Front Cover
 Front Matter
 Title Page
 Table of Contents
 List of Illustrations
 Back Cover

Group Title: favourite holiday book for boys
Title: The favourite holiday book for boys
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00028400/00001
 Material Information
Title: The favourite holiday book for boys
Physical Description: viii, 760 p., 36 leaves of plates : ill. (some col.) ; 22 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Evans, Edmund, 1826-1905 ( Engraver )
Cooper, James Davis, 1823-1904 ( Engraver )
Ross, Charles H ( Charles Henry ), 1842?-1897 ( Illustrator )
Crane, Walter, 1845-1915 ( Illustrator )
Brunton, William, d. 1878 ( Illustrator )
George Routledge and Sons ( Publisher )
Wyman & Sons ( Printer )
Publisher: George Routledge and Sons,
George Routledge and Sons
Place of Publication: London
New York
Manufacturer: Wyman and Sons
Publication Date: [1876?]
Copyright Date: 1876
Subject: Natural history -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Sports -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Games -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Handicraft -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Wit and humor, Juvenile   ( lcsh )
Children's plays   ( lcsh )
Children's stories   ( lcsh )
Children's stories -- 1876   ( lcsh )
Puzzles -- 1876   ( rbgenr )
Prize books (Provenance) -- 1876   ( rbprov )
Bldn -- 1876
Genre: Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Children's stories   ( lcsh )
Puzzles   ( rbgenr )
Prize books (Provenance)   ( rbprov )
Spatial Coverage: England -- London
United States -- New York -- New York
Statement of Responsibility: with illustrations.
General Note: Date of publication from inscription.
General Note: Added title page, frontispiece, and some plates printed in colors.
General Note: Some illustrations engraved by E. Evans and J. Cooper, and drawn by Charles H. Ross, Walter Crane, Brunton.
General Note: Contains fiction, non-fiction, plays, and word and picture puzzles.
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00028400
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Holding Location: University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier: notis - ALZ6340
oclc - 61250498
alephbibnum - 002391450

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
    Front Matter
        Front Matter 1
        Front Matter 2
        Frontispiece 1
        Frontispiece 2
    Title Page
        Page i
        Page ii
    Table of Contents
        Page iii
        Page iv
    List of Illustrations
        Page v
        Page vi
        Page vii
        Page viii
        Page ix
        Page x
        Page 1
        Page 2
        Page 3
        Page 4
        Page 5
        Page 6
        Page 7
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Full Text

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THE ORVILLE COLLEGE BOYS. By 'the Author of East Lynne."
1, 65, 129, 207, 257, 321, 426, 449, 513, 577, 680, 705
Richardson . . . . . 28, 90
By Lieut. C. R. Low . 34, 113, 154, 193, 280, 363
Quin, F.C.S. . . . . . .44
AND THE LAKE. By the Rev. J. G. Wood, M.A.
51, 103, 161, 224, 298, 374, 414, 466, 547, 602, 674, 751
PUZZLES . . 59, 122, 188, 251, 316, 382, 444, 510, 572
ANSWERS TO PUZZLES 128, 192, 200, 279, 345, 448, 472, 554, 618
J. C. Atkinson . . . . 82, 169
HUNTING. By Sidney Daryl . . . * 97
CRYPTOGRAPHY. By Edward Rule . . . 175

How TO BIND A BOOK . . .
THE ELECTROTYPE PROCESS. By Charles F. Quin, F.C.S.. 243,
By G. G. Preece . . ..
SWIMMING. By Sidney Daryl . .
the Rev. H. C. Adams, M.A. 385, 489, 555, 619, 641,
SAILING. By Sidney Daryl. . . ..
FISHING. By Sidney Daryl . . . .
SHOOTING. By Sidney Daryl . . . . .
GLASS-BLOWING FOR BOYS. By the Rev. J. Lukin .
A WORD ABOUT DOGS. By Sidney Daryl . .
FOOTBALL. By Sidney Daryl . . . .
CHARLEY SMITH'S TRAP.' By Thomas Miller .
THE END OF THE CANDLE. By Clement Scott .
OUR THEATRE AT HOME. By Sidney Daryl . .
PLAY . . . . . . . .








"ME" .. 193


BOY 449

NOTE.-The Plate entitled The Waves and their Inmates, No. 2, was spoiled in
the printing. The coloured frontispiece and title-page are given instead.


Lieut. C. R. Low. CLEMENT SOTT
Rev. J. LUKIN.
R. ev. J. G. WOOD.



See the coloured Title-page.

HERE'S a song of the sweetness of labour;
We must toil and our backs we must bend:
Life's struggle sits down like a neighbour,
And grips with the hand of a friend.
Contentment can -wrestle with sorrow,
Then up to the collar--nor shirk,
For to set to our music we'll borrow
Some lines from the poem of Work!
No morn the horizon has tinted,
No rays that have burst through the blue,
But have taught us a lesson, and hinted
What men with strong muscles can do.
We have sunlight to glitter and cheer us,
And daylight to mend what we spoil,
And the pilot of promise will steer us
And guide us through tempests of toil.
No night in its mantle has folded
The din of the world and its dust
But has welcomed whom labour has moulded
And saved from the riot of rust.
When shadows of gloom have entwined us
And life in oblivion steep,
We can welcome the fetters that bind us,
For Work is the sister of Sleep.
There is work for the mate and the master,
There is work for the man and the boy;
Light-hearted, prepared for disaster,
Strong-handed, and aiming at joy.
They will find the sweet streams who've obeyed us,
And the sources from which they can spring;
But the Boys of Old England must aid us,
And this is the song they must sing.



See the coloure Frontispiece.

A WAY! away!
The shout to play
Is heard from field and thicket:
A merry scene
Is on the green,
And champions of the wicket
In honest rivalry will try
Like Englishmen to win or die!
Come, fling to fate
Your books and slate,
No more through Euclid flounder,
Play hide and seek
With musty Greek,
Off Latin take "a rounder,"
And let the music of the swing
Some brighter recollections bring.
All cares have flown:
Some scamper down
The hillside, set with brambles :
The woods suggest
A hidden nest,
Anid copses call for scrambles,
Or in some meditative nook
Conceal the student-and his book.
There's not a trace
On any face
Of sulkiness or sorrow;
The seeds that they
Have sown to-day
Will spring to grain to-morrow
For those who play will, after rest,
Awake to industry the best.



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"Ile took up the Pistol, looked at it az(Drain critically, held it

for a minute before him, takincr -aim, fired it off."


By the Author of East Lynne," The ,Channings," 9c.


HE glowing sunset of a September
Ni evening was shining on the fair grounds
Scii around Orville College, lighting up
SI~ .the scene of stir and bustle invariably
presented on the return of the bojs to
their studies after the periodical holi-
days. A large, comfortable-looking,
and very irregular building was this college. But a
moderate-sized house originally, it had been added
Sto here, and enlarged there, and raised yonder, at
different times as necessity required, and with
regard to convenience only, not to uniformity of
"architecture. The whole was of red brick, save the
little chapel jutting out at one end; that was of
White brick, with black divisional strokes, as if
the architect had a mind to make some distinction
"by way of reverence. The Head Master's house
faced the lawn and the wide gravel carriage-drive that encircled it; the
school apartments, ending in the chapel, were built on the house's left
the sleeping-rooms and domestic offices were on its right. It was only
a private college-in fact, a school-founded many years ago by a Dr.
Orville, and called after him; but it gradually became renowned in the
world, and was now of the very first order of private colleges.
Situated near London, in the large and unoccupied tracts of land
lying between the north and the west districts, when the college was


first erected, nothing could be seen near but green fields. It was in a
degree isolated still, but time had wrought its natural changes; a few
gentlemen's houses had grown up around, and a colony of small shops
came with them. The last improvement, or innovation, whichever you
like to call it, had been a little brick railway station, and the rushing,
thundering trains, which seemed to be always passing, would occasionally
condescend to halt, and pick up or set down the Orville travellers. In
want of a name, when the houses spoken of began to spring up, it had
called itself Orville Green--which was as good a name for the little
suburb as any other.
Dr. Brabazon, the head master, stood at the door to receive his coming
guests. It had been more consistent possibly with the reserve and
dignity of a head master, to have ensconced himself in a state chair
within the walls of his drawing-room or library, and given the boys a
gracious bow as each introduced himself. Not so the doctor. He was
the most simple-mannered man in the world-as these large-hearted and
large-minded men are apt to be,-and he stood at the hall door, or went
to it perpetually, with a hearty smile and outstretched hands for each
fresh arrival. A portly, genial man he, of near sixty years, with an
upright line of secret care on his brow that sat ill upon it, as if it had
no business there.
The boys on this occasion came up, as was usual, to the front, or
doctor's entrance; not to their own entrance near the chapel. The
number of students altogether did not exceed a hundred. About forty
of these were resident at the head master's; the rest-or nearly the
rest-were accommodated at the houses of other of the masters, and a
very few-eight or ten at the most-attended as out-door pupils, their
friends living near. No difference whatever was made in the education,
but these last were somewhat looked down upon by the rest of the boys.
They arrived variously: some driven from town in their fathers' hand-
some carriages, some in cabs, some used the new rail and walked from
thence, some had come by omnibus. Dr. Brabazon received all alike,
with the same genial smile, the same cordial grasp of the hand. He
liked all to make their appearance on the eve of school, that the roll
might be written and called: the actual business beginning on the
A pair of beautiful long-tailed ponies, drawing a low four-wheeled
open carriage, came round the gravel sweep with a quiet dash. The
driver was a, well-grown youth, who had entered his eighteenth year.
He had high, prominent features of an aquiline cast, and large sleepy
blue eyes: a, handsome face, certainly, but spoilt by its look of pride.



His attention during his short drive-for they had not come far-had.
been absorbed by his ponies and by his own self-importance as he drove
them. It was one of the- senior boys, Albert Loftus. By his side sat
another of the seniors, a cousin, Raymond Trace, a quiet-looking
youth of no particular complexion, and his light eyes rather sunk in his
head; eyes that he had a habit of screwing together- when at his
studies. He had been reading a book all the- way, never once looking
up at his cousin, or the road, or the ponies, and .answering in civil
monosyllables when spoken to. Behind sat another college boy, younger,
Master Dick Loftus. Master Dick possessed very little pride indeed,
and was a contrast to his brother. He had amused himself, coming
along, with a pea-shooter, and hung out a flag behind-all to. the happy
ignorance of the driver and Mr. Trace. A groom in plain livery, nearly
bursting with suppressed laughter, made the fourth in the pretty
"Well, Loftus, I'm very glad to see you: you're rather late, though,
considering you are so close," was the doctor's greeting. "How are
you, Trace ? Dick, you rebel, I hope we shall have no trouble this
The doctor laughed as he said it. Dick, a red-faced, good-humoured
boy, met the hand and laugh readily. He knew he was a favourite,
with all his faults.
Sir Simon's compliments to you, sir, and he will do himself thea
pleasure of calling shortly," said Mr. Loftus. Dick, take those things
Mr. Loftus had slightly altered the phraseology of the message : "My
respects to Dr. Brabazon, and I'll give him a look in soon," was the one
sent. The groom had been depositing a few things on the ground, and
Dick was loading himself, when a close carriage drove in. A lady sat
inside it in solitary state, and a young gentleman sat on the roof
"Halloa It's Onions !"
The remark came from Mr. Dick Loftus. He dropped the things
summarily, went out, and began a dance in honour of the new arrival.
Loftus the elder seized on a square parcel done up in brown paper, and
disappeared, leaving the other things to their fate. "Onions" got
down by the chariot wheel, and shook hands with Dick.
They called him Onions as a sort of parody on his name "Leek."
The college was in the habit of bestowing these nicknames. Joseph
1 Leek, at any rate, did not mind it, whatever others, thus distinguished,.
might do, and would as soon be called Onions, as Leek, at any time.;


Nothing upset his temper or his equanimity. He was one of the coolest
boys that ever entered a school, and was a universal favourite. His
father, General Leek, was in India; his mother, Lady Sophia, whom
Dr. Brabazon was now assisting from the carriage, was an invalid in the
matter of nerves, and always thankful to get the boy to school again the
first day of term.
The pony carriage drove off; Lady Sophia Leek's carriage was not
long in following; other carriages, and cabs, and flies came up and went;
and there was a lull in the arrivals. Dr. Brabazon was standing at his
drawing-room window (a light pretty room on the right of the hall) and
was trying to call to mind how many were still absent, when he saw
some one else approaching, a small black travelling bag in one hand,
and dressed from head to foot in a suit of grey.
Who's this ?" cried he to himself. "It looks too tall for Gall."
Too tall certainly for Mr. Gall, who, though the senior boy of the college,
was undersized. And too old also. This gentleman looked two- or
three-and-twenty; a slender man of middle height, with pale, delicate
features, and a sad sort of look in his pleasant dark eyes.
"It must be the new German master," thought Dr. Brabazon, and
he hurried out to meet him.
The new German master it was, Mr. Henry. There was a peculiar
kind of timid reticence in his manner which seemed foreign to himself,
for his face was a candid, open face, his voice frank. Dr. Brabazon put
it down to the natural shyness of one who has resided abroad. Mr.
Henry, of English birth, had been chiefly educated in Germany. He
spoke German as a native, French also: for some few years he had
been a professor at the University of Heidelberg, and had come thence
now, strongly recommended to Dr. Brabazon.
I am very glad to see you," said the doctor, taking his hand in his
simple, cordial manner. "Welcome to England! I have been ex-
pecting you since the morning."
"We had a bad passage, sir; the boat was late by many hours. It
was due at ten this morning, and we only got in an hour or two ago."
The words were spoken without any foreign accent. Not only that:
the tone was that of a refined Englishman. The fact gave satisfaction
to Dr. Brabazon, who liked his pupils to be surrounded by good asso-
ciations in all ways.
Will you kindly tell me where I am to lodge ?"
Here, for a few days," said Dr. Brabazon. "As you were so com-
plete a -stranger, we thought you might like best to fix, yourself, upon
lodgings. It is some years since you were in England, I think ?"



Nine years, sir."
Nine years Dear me You have not many friends, then, I con-
clude, in your own country ?"
Mr. Henry shook his head. "Few men are much more friendless
than I am."
And the accent sounded friendless. There was something singularly
attractive about this young man, in his gentle manner, his sensitive,
-shrinking shyness (for so it seemed), his sad, earnest brown eyes : and
Dr. Brabazon's heart went out to him.
"You shall be shown your room, Mr. Henry," he said, and then
my daughter will give you some tea."
Later, Dr. Brabazon took him through the passages, on either side of
which were rooms appropriated to particular studies, to the lofty
hall, which was the chief schoolroom. A long room, with high
windows on one side of it; the masters' desks in the angles of the
room, and the long desks of the boys ranged against the sides. Dr.
Brabazon's place was at the upper end, in the centre, facing the door, so
that he commanded full view of all. Three masters lived in the house;
the Reverend Mr. Jebb; Mr. Baker, the mathematical master; and
Mr. Long, who took English generally, some of the natural sciences, and
was supposed to superintend the boys out of hours. Mr. Jebb assisted
Dr. Brabazon with the classics, and the latter took divinity. The other
masters lived out. Dr. Brabazon introduced Mr. Henry to the clergy-
man and Mr. Long, and left him. Mr. Baker was not there.
The boys were renewing private friendships, telling tales of their
holidays, hatching mischief for the coming term, criticising a few new
comers, and making a continuous hum. Their ages varied from ten to
eighteen. On the whole, they seemed a rather superior set; for one
thing, the terms were high, and that tended to keep the school select.
A sudden Hiss-is-s," from the lips of Master Richard Loftus-or,
as he was called in the school, Loftus minor-suppressed almost before
it was heard, caused the group, of whom he was the centre, to look round.
What is it, Dick ?"
"Don't you see ? whispered Dick. "A nice amount of brass he
must have to show himself here again Look at him, Onions; he looks
more of a sneak than ever."
Onions lifted his eyebrows in his cool, but not ill-natured manner, as
he surveyed the boy coming in. It was Edwin Lamb. His hair was
of a glowing red, and his eyes were not straight; not for that did the
boys dislike him, but because he had been found out in one or two dis-
honourable falsehoods (they brought it out short, "lies "), and was more


than suspected of carrying private tales to Mr. Long. They called him
Le Mouton," "the Sneak," Jackal;" in short, there was a great
amount of prejudice against him, more, perhaps, than the boy really
Don't let a fellow speak to him! Don't let's "
Hold your tongue, Loftus minor. Allow bygones to be bygones.
Time enough to turn against Lamb when you find fresh cause."
"The rebuke, spoken civilly, came from Raymond Trace, who hap-
pened to overhear, and who never willingly offended anybody. Not
that Trace was a favourite in the college; none of them liked him
much, without being able to explain why. Dick Loftus turned with a
quick, scared look, wondering whether Mr. Trace had also overheard a
private colloquy he had been holding with a very chosen companion,
Tom Smart. He did not answer Trace; as a rule the younger fellows
had to obey the seniors.
At the sound of a bell, they began to hurry into a small place, called
the robing-closet, where their caps and gowns were kept. Putting on
the gowns, and carrying the caps in their hands, they went to the call-
room, waiting there to be marshalled into chapel. The caps, or
trenchers, were used always; the gowns were worn in chapel and on
what might be called state occasions, such as the examinations, also at
lectures; sometimes they wore them out of doors, but not in school
ordinarily, nor when they were at play. The masters' gowns, worn
always in public, were of the same make as the boys'; the caps were all
alike in form, but the masters' were distinguished by a scarlet tassel in
addition to the black one.
It was a small pretty chapel, the size of an ordinary room, the lectern
slightly raised, and a standing desk for the lessons. The senior boys,
meaning those of the first desk, read the lessons in turn. Part of the
service was intoned, part read, part sung. Mr. Long, a good musician,
took the organ to-night, and Dr. Brabazon, as was usual, was in the
reading-desk. Mr. Loftus, as first senior present, left his place to read
the first lesson. He read very well; clearly and distinctly, though
somewhat coldly. Raymond Trace read the second lesson. His voice
was subdued; its accent to some ears almost offensively humble-offen-
sive because there was a ring in it of affected piety that could never be
genuine. No such voice as that, no such assumption of humility, ever
yet proceeded from a truly honest nature.
'That young man is a hypocrite !" involuntarily thought the new
master, Mr. Henry. Heaven forgive me he added, a moment after;
" what am I that I should judge another "


He did not know the name of the reader; he did not know yet the
name of any one of the boys surrounding him; but he had been study-
ing their faces, as it was natural he should do, considering that he had
come to live amongst them. Instinct led Mr. Henry to study the
human countenance-to be studying it always, unconsciously; and it
rarely deceived him.
On ordinary evenings the supper was served immediately after chapel,
but on this, when neither things nor scholars had shaken down into their
routine, there appeared no signs of its being ready. Several of the
fellows were expected yet, and the discipline, obtaining customarily,
had not commenced. Two of them, 'at any rate, took some undue
advantage of it. Going out after chapel was against the rules; perhaps
Mr. Dick Loftus considered he might, on this night, break it with
Hanging up his gown in its place, he 'went stealing along the passages
again towards the chapel, carrying a brown paper parcel, which he tried
to cover with his trencher, lest curious eyes might be about. His friend
Smart went stealing after him, and they turned off through a door into
an open quadrangle; on three sides of which ran a covered gallery or
passage, with a brick floor and gothic pillars, called the cloisters; on
the fourth side were the great gates that formed the scholars' entrance.
A truck of luggage was coming in from the railway station; Dick and
the other slipped past it.
Now what had these two got in that parcel, guarded with so much
care ? Mischief, you may be sure. It was the parcel that Loftus major
had picked up on his arrival, and taken off to his room, and it contained
nothing less than a pair of pistols. Mr. Loftus had recently purchased
these pistols; he thought their acquisition one of the greatest feathers
his cap could display, and had not resisted the temptation to take them
with him to show his compeers. Of course some secrecy had to be
observed, for Dr. Brabazon would as soon have allowed him to bring a
live bear into the college, and the case they lay in had been well
wrapped in wadding, and otherwise disguised. Loftus minor, Mr. Dick,
who was burning to finger these pistols, and had not yet obtained the
ghost of a chance to do it, thought he saw it on this evening. He found
out where his brother had placed them, brought them down, hid them
while he went into chapel, made a confidant of Smart, and the two stole
out with them. They had no particular motive in taking the pistols
out, except that there was little opportunity for a private leisurely
view indoors.
Crossing the wide road, they plunged into what was called the plan-


station; a large plot of ground intersected with young trees; or, rather,
trees that had been young, for they were getting of a sheltering size
now. A cricket-field lay to the left, beyond the chapel end-window;
the station was in the distance, houses were dotted about; none, how-
ever, in the immediate vicinity. It was a beautiful moonlight night;
and the boys chose an open place amid the trees, where there was a
bench and the beams were bright; there they undid the parcel, and
touched the spring of the box.
Bright beams beyond doubt; but not so bright to the four admiring
eyes as the pistol barrels. Never had such pistols been seen, although
Loftus major-as Mr. Dick communicated in open-hearted confidence-
had only given an old song for them at some pawnbroker's. They lifted,
they touched, they stroked, they cocked, they took aim. The caps were
on; and it was only by an amount of incomprehensible self-denial, that
they did not fire. But that might have betrayed all; and Dick Loftus,
though daring a great deal in a harmless sort of way, did not dare that.
Dick fenced with the one, Smart with the other; they were like a
couple of little children, playing with make-believe swords.
All in a moment, Dick caught sight of a trencher, poking itself
gingerly through the trees, and regarding them. A master's trencher,
too, for the two tassels, one over the other, were distinctly visible.
With a smothered cry of warning to his companion, Dick vanished,
carrying his pistol with him. Smart, nearly beside himself with terror
when he comprehended the situation, vanished in Dick's wake, but in
his confusion he dropped his pistol into the sheet of wadding on the
The coast clear, the spy (an unintentional spy, it must be confessed)
came forward. It was not a master; it was one of the boys, who, in
coming out, had unwittingly caught up a master's trencher in mistake
for his own. He took up the pistol and examined it-he turned over
the wadding on which it lay, and the brown paper, and the case;
scrutinizing all carefully in the moonlight, and coming on a written
direction at last.
Oh, indeed 'Albert Loftus, Esquire' What does he want with
pistols ? Is he thinking to shoot any one of the fellows? And Mr.
Dick has stolen a march on him, and brought them out, has he ?"
He took up the pistol, looked at it again, critically held it for a
minute before him, taking aim, and fired it off. The answer to it was
a human cry and a fall; the charge, shot or bullet, whichever it might
be, had taken effect on some one but a few paces off. The culprit
remained perfectly still for one minute; possibly scared at what he had



done; he then quietly put the pistol on the case, crept off on tiptoe
amidst the trees, and came face to face with the new master,
Mr. Henry.
Mr. Henry was on his road to the station to order his luggage to the
college. He had left it on his arrival, not knowing where he was to
lodge.- Dr. Brabazon had offered to send a servant, but Mr.' Henry
coveted the walk in the cool, lovely night; he and his head were alike
feverish from the effects of the sea voyage; so they directed him through
the plantation, as being the nearest way.
Face to face. But only one glimpse did Mr. Henry catch of the
meeting face, for the boy's hand was suddenly raised to cover it, even
while he took flight. A moan or two, and then a loud shout for assist-
ance-as if the sufferer, on second thoughts, deemed it would be better
to shout than to groan, guided Mr. Henry to the spot. He was lying
close by, in an intersecting path of the plantation, a boy of some sixteen
years, whose trencher showed he belonged to Orville College.
Who is it ?" asked Mr. Henry.
"Talbot," shortly answered the boy. "I say, though, who are you ?
How came you to shoot me ?"
"(It was not I who did it. I heard the shot as I came up. Where
are you hurt ?"
"In my leg, I think. I can't move it. I only got in by this train,
for I missed the one in the afternoon, and was running through here,
full pelt, when somebody takes a shot at me Cool, I must say! "
The master raised him, but the right leg seemed nearly helpless, so
he laid him down again, and ran to. the college for assistance. But as
he was turning away, the white wadding on the bench caught his eye,
and he found the pistol and its accessories. These he carried with him.
Dick Loftus, hiding in the distant trees, could bear the suspense no
longer. Something was wrong; some untoward event had occurred;
and he came forward in disregard of Smart's prayers and entreaties.
Dick was of an open honourable nature, in spite of his pursuit of mis-
chief and his impulsive thoughtlessness: he never hesitated to take his
escapades on himself, when real necessity arose.
"I'm blest Why, it's the earl, Smart!" he shouted out. "It's
the Earl of Shrewsbury !"
Is that you, Dick ? exclaimed the wounded boy, looking up as
Dick bent over him in the moonlight. Did you do it ?"
No, I didn't," said Dick. "I say, old fellow, is it much ? I wish
his pistols had been buried before I'd brought 'em out !"
"How was it all ? Whose are the pistols ?" questioned Talbot. And

:5 9


Mr. Dick, in an ecstasy of contrition, but vowing vengeance against the
shooter, whoever it might be, entered on his explanation. To do him
justice, he gave it without the least reserve. And Tom Smart, shivering
amid the thickest trees, daring to stir neither one way nor the other,
lest he should be seen, and who had not heard the salutation, wondered
whether Dick would keep his word, and not mention his name in con-
nection with the calamity.
A fine commotion arose in the college when Mr. Henry got back with
the news. One of the gentlemen had been shot in the plantation !-
shot by a fellow student! It was incredible. Mr. Henry quietly gave
Dr. Brabazon an account of the whole, as far as he was cognizant of it:
how that he had heard a shot quite close to him, followed by a cry, and
had caught a glimpse of a youth stealing away. He gave no clue as to
who it was, apparently did not know, and of course could not know
that it was he who had fired; he recognized him as belonging to Orville
College by the cap. It was but a hurried explanation; there was no
time to waste in question and answer; Talbot must be seen to.
He was brought in on a hurdle, and a surgeon summoned. On the
first day of this boy's entrance at the college, when Dr. Brabazon, the
roll before him, asked his name, the answer was, "James Talbot."
"James Talbot, Earl of Shrewsbury?" jokingly responded the doctor,
in allusion to one noted in English history; and from that hour Talbot
had gone by no other name in the school. Of a good-natured, generous
disposition, he was ever ready to do a kind action, and was liked im-
mensely. Not that he had much to be generous with; his father was
a banker's clerk, very poor, struggling with life, and pinching himself
in all ways to keep his son at Orville.
Not during the first confusion did a suspicion that the offending
pistol could have "any connection with a certain brown paper treasure-
parcel upstairs, penetrate to the brain of Loftus major: not until
Dick's name arose into prominence. Up to his room stepped Mr.
Loftus, six stairs at a stride, pulled open a drawer, essayed to lay his
hands upon the parcel, and-found it was not there. He could not
believe his own eyes; he stared, he felt, he stood in a mazed sort of
bewilderment. Meddle with his things that wretched Dick, who was
nearly three years his junior, and held at arm's-length accordingly !-
with his new pistols, that were only bought en cachette When Loftus
major recovered his equanimity sufficiently to think, he came to the
conclusion that hanging would be too good for Dick.




T HE Reverend Mr. Jebb and the new German master stood over the
bed of James Talbot. The surgeon had been, extracted the shots
from the leg, and pronounced the injury to be not material. Talbot
must be kept quiet he said, both in mind and body.
"It's a very strange affair," murmured the clergyman into Mr.
Henry's ear. "Dr. Brabazon's opinion is, that it must have been
Loftus minor after all, who .fired off the pistol."
It never was, then," unceremoniously spoke up the patient. When
Dick Loftus says he didn't do a thing, I know he didn't."
You are not to talk, Talbot," interrupted Mr. Jebb : and Mr
Henry began to ask who Loftus was.
"He is brother to the second senior of the school," was the clergy-
man's reply. "You may have remarked Loftus major in chapel, from
the circumstance that he read the lesson."
"Which of the lessons? I noticed the readers of both."
The first lesson. The second was read by Trace."
Trace ?" echoed Mr. Henry.
"You are thinking it an uncommon name. Raymond Trace; he is
cousin to the Loftus boys. There's quite a romance attaching to their
history," proceeded the clergyman, who was a bit of a gossip, and he
dropped his voice as he spoke. "The two fathers were in partnership
in Liverpool, stock and share brokers, quite a first-class house, and
much respected. Unfortunately they took in a partner, and before two
years were over he ruined them. He issued false shares, put forged
bills in circulation-I hardly know what he did not do. They were
quite ruined ; at least it was ruin compared to what their former wealth
had been. The house was broken up; Mr. Loftus retired to the Isle of
Wight, he ,had lived there previously, never having taken a very
practical part in the business; and Mr. Trace went abroad, hoping to
.carve out another fortune. I hear.he is doing it."
"And these are the sons?" observed the German master, after a
"These .are the sons. Mr. Loftus has several children, Mr. Trace
only this one. Mrs. Loftus and Mrs. Trace were sisters. Their brother,
Sir Simon Orville, a retired city man, lives here close to the college; he
is some distant relative of its founder. The three boys were placed at




it two years ago, and it is thought Sir Simon pays for them. They
spend their vacations generally at his house: Trace, at least, always
does. He has no other home in England: Mrs. Trace is dead.
The injured boy stirred uneasily, and Mr. Henry turned and
hastened to him. "Do you feel much pain ?" he kindly asked.
Rather sharpish for that," was the answer. I say, sir, you-you
don't think I shall die ?" and the bright brown eyes looked wistfully up
at the master's, as the sudden question was whispered. "It's my mother
I am thinking of," added Talbot, by way of excuse.
"So far as I believe, there's no danger," replied Mr. Henry, bending
down to him and pushing the hair off his hot brow. Only put your-
self trustingly into God's care, my boy-have you learnt to do it ?-and
rely upon it, all shall be for the best."
Miss Brabazon and a nurse came into the room and the gentlemen
rose to leave it. Talbot put out his hand and detained Mr. Jebb.
"I say, sir, who is that ? "
"The new foreign master. Do you keep yourself tranquil, Talbot."
With the morning came the discipline of school rules. Talbot was
going on quite favourably, and all outward excitement had subsided.
The breakfast hour was half-past seven; from eight to a quarter-past
the pupils from the masters' houses arrived, also those who lived alto-
gether out of bounds, with their friends or in lodgings; slightingly
called by the college, these latter, outsiders." During this quarter
of an hour the roll was called, and the boys did what they pleased; it
was recreation with them: at a quarter-past eight the chapel bell
called all to service.
The boys stood in groups this morning in the quadrangle, not availing
themselves of their liberty to be noisy during this quarter of an hour,
but discussing in an undertone the startling events of the previous night.
Dick Loftus had openly avowed the whole; and somebody, not Dick, had
contrived to betray Mr. Smart's share in it. Dick protested that who-
ever had peered at them was a master; he judged by the cap. It
appeared equally certain that it could not have been a master : the only
masters arrived were Mr. Jebb and Mr. Long, and they, at this very self-
same hour, had been with Dr. Brabazon in his private study. But it
was easy for any one of the senior boys to have taken up a master's
trencher by mistake, or to have gone out in it wilfully to mislead. Had
the boy, whoever it was, purposely shot Talbot ? The opinion, rejected
at first,,was gaining ground now; led to, possibly by the appropriation
of the master's cap: altogether it was a very unpleasant affair, en-
shrouded in much mystery.


William Gall was there this morning, the senior of the school; a
slight, short young man, the age of Loftus major, with an undoubted
ugly face, but an honest one, and dark hair. There was not much good
feeling existing between Gall and Loftus, as was well known, but it had
never broken into an open explosion. Gall despised Loftus for his
pride and his fopperies, his assumption of superiority and condescension;
and Loftus looked down on Gall and his family as vulgar city people.
The Galls lived at Orville Green, but the son was an in-door scholar.
Mr. Gall was in some mysterious trade that had to do with tallow;
there was plenty of money; but Loftus thought, on the whole, that it
was out of the order of right things for the son of a tallow-man to be
head of the college and senior over him.
Three or four new scholars came straggling in during this quarter of
an hour, and they attracted the usual amount of attention and quizzing.
One of them was a tall, agile, upright boy of sixteen or more, with a hand-
some, open countenance, dark chestnut hair, and bright grey eyes. He
stood looking about, as if uncertain where to go. Mr. Longwent up to him.
"Are you belonging to the college ?-a new student ?"
If you pass through that side of the cloisters and turn to the left
you will find the call-room. Mr. Baker is there with the roll, inscribing
the new names as they come in, and he will add yours. What is your
name 3"
There was a free, frank sound in the voice, though the words spoken
had been but two; and the boy lifted his hat (he would not get his cap
and gown for a day or two) with somewhat of foreign courtesy as he
turned away to the cloister. Mr. Henry, who had heard the name,
hastened after him and overtook him in the cloister passage.
"You are George Paradyne ?"
"Yes. And you are "--
Mr. Henry."
Their hands were locked together; they gazed into each other's faces.
"I don't think I should have known you," said the boy.
No ? I should have known you anywhere. It is the same face,
not changed; but you have grown from a little boy into a great one."
Your face is changed. It is thinner and paler, and-some-
how "
"Well ?" said Mr. Henry, for the sentence had come to a stop mid-
way, "speak out."
"It's a sadder sort of face than it used to be. Are you quite well ?"



"Yes, I am well. I don't know that I am strong. Good-bye for
now," hastily added Mr. Henry; "Mr. Long has told you where
to go."
The boy continued his way up the cloister, and: another ran up to
Mr. Henry-a second-desk boy named Powell.
I say, sir, do you know that new fellow ?"
"I used to know him," replied Mr. Henry, "but I have not seen
him for several years."
Lamb says he thinks he is an outsider. I like the look of him.
Where did you know him, Mr. Henry ?"
At the Heidelberg University. He was a young pupil there, when
I was a junior master."
Mr. Powell's face grew considerably longer. "At the Heidelberg
University Does he speak German ?"
"He used to speak it perfectly. I daresay he does still."
"That's blue, though," was the rejoinder. I'm going in for the
German prize, but who can stand against a fellow who has been in Ger-
many ? He's sure to be at our desk. What's his name, sir ?"
You will learn it in good time, no doubt," called back Mr. Henry,
who was hastening away as if he were in a hurry. And Mr. Powell
vaulted over the open cloister wall into the quadrangle, which was.
against rules.
A few moments and the chapel bell rang out. The boys got their
caps and gowns and went into the call-room. Dr. Brabazon came up in
his surplice and hood, and they followed him into chapel.
Possibly it was because Mr. Trace had no duty to perform-for Gall
and Loftus read the lessons-that his sight recreated itself with scanning
the new scholars. Not so much the whole of them, and there were nine
or ten, as one-George Paradyne. It was not a stare; Trace never
stared,; his eyes were drawn together so closely that even Paradyne him-
self could not have known he was being looked at; but, nevertheless, so
intent was Trace's gaze, so absorbed was he in the new face, that at the
end of the Te Deum he quite forgot to sit down, and remained standing,
to the amusement of his friends.
I wonder if it is," spoke Trace to himself, as they left the chapel.
And he inquired of two or three what that new fellow's name was, but
could not learn it.
He's some crony of the new master's," spoke Powell; I saw them
shaking hands like mad. It'll be an awful shame for him to be put in
our class, if he is up in German."
Trace had not waited to hear the conclusion; the boys were hastening


to take their places in school. On this morning, until their state of
advancement could be ascertained, the fresh boys were ordered to a
bench opposite the first desk. Trace, who sat, next to Loftus, directed
his attention to this new boy.
"Do you recognize him, Bertie," he asked in whisper.
"Recognize him? no," drawled Mr. Loftus, as if it were entirely
beneath him to recognize any-new fellow. And he could think of nothing
but his new pistols, which Dr. Brabazon had taken possession of:
Look at his face well," continued Trace. "Can you see no likeness
to one you once knew V"
Not I," and this time Mr. Loftus did not speak until he had taken
a good look at the boy. Don't know the face from Adam."
Well, perhaps I am mistaken," mused Trace. It's a long while
since I saw the other."
But, nevertheless, in spite of this conclusion, Trace could not keep
his eyes off the face, and his studies suffered. Dr. Brabazon examined
the new boy; 3he found him thoroughly well advanced, and a suspicion
arose in the school that he would be placed at the first desk. Loftus
heard somebody say it, and elevated his eyebrows in displeasure. When
the school rose, Trace went up to Mr. Baker.
I beg your pardon, sir; would you allow me to look for one minute
at the roll ?"
At the roll ?-what for ?" returned Mr. Baker, who was a little man
with a bald head.
"I think I know one of the new boys, sir. I want to see his.
There was no rule against showing the roll, and Mr. Baker took it out
of his desk. Trace ran his finger down the new names-which were
entered at the end until their places should be allotted-and it halted
at one.
George Paradyne !" he mentally read. Thank you, sir," he said
aloud, with the quiet civility characteristic of him: and Mr. Baker
locked up the roll again.
For once in his college life, a burning spot of emotion might have
been seen on Raymond Trace's cheek. A foul injury, as he regarded it,
had been done to his family and fortune by the father of George Para-
dyne; and he deemed that the son had no more right to be receiving his
education with honest men's sons, as their equal and associate, than
darkness has to be made hail-fellow-well-met with light. Loftus was
leaning over the open wall, his legs in the cloisters, his head in the
quadrangle, and his arm round a huge pillar, ruminating bitterly on the



wrongs dealt out to himself, on Dick's wickedness, and the ignominy of
possessing pistols that one can't get at, when Trace reached him.
I thought I was not mistaken in the fellow, Loftus. It is George
"Who ? cried Loftus, starting round, aroused by the name.
"George Paradyne : Paradyne's son."
No Do you mean that fellow you asked about ? It can't be."
"It is. I knew him, I tell you; and I've been looking at the name
on the roll. Your memory must be a bad one, not to have recognized
the face also."
Loftus drew a deep breath, as if unable to take in the full sense of
the words. But he never displayed much surprise at anything.
"I don't suppose I saw the fellow three times in my life," he
presently said. "We did not live on the spot, as you did; and it is so
long ago."
What's to be done ? He can't be allowed to stay here."
Loftus shrugged his shoulders, French fashion, having no answer at
hand. Brabazon is not aware of who he is, I suppose ?"
Impossible; or he'd never have admitted him. One can overlook
some things in a fellow's antecedents; but forgery-that's rather too
strong. If the rest of the college chose to tolerate him, you and I and
Dick could not."
Mr. Loftus threw up his condemning nose at the latter addition.
Dick, indeed! Dick seemed to be going in for something too bad on
his own score, to be fastidious as to the society he kept.
What's the matter? inquired one of the first-class boys, Irby,
coming up to them from the middle of the quadrangle, and leaning his
arms on the cloister wall, to talk face to face.
"That new fellow, Paradyne-do you know which he is ?" broke off
Irby nodded. "A good-looking chap, don't you mean? well up in
his classics."
Well up in them by the help of stolen money, I suppose," spoke
Trace, an angry light for a moment gleaming in his eye. You have
heard of that dreadful business of ours at Liverpool, some four years
ago, Irby, when Loftus & Trace, the best and richest and most respected
firm in the town, were ruined through a man they had taken in as
partner ? "
I've heard something of it," said Irby, wondering.
This new fellow, Paradyne, is the man's son."
Irby gave a low whistle. Let's hear the particulars, Trace."



And Trace proceeded to give them. Irby was a great friend of his,
and there were no other ears in view. Loftus drew himself up against
the pillar, and stood there with his arms folded, listening in silence, all
of them unconscious that Mr. Henry was on the other side of the pillar,
taking a sketch of the quadrangle and the chapel.
You heard something of the tale, reader, from Mr. Jebb last night,
and there's not much more to be told. Trace, speaking quietly, as he
always did, enlarged upon the wrongs dealt out to his father and Mr.
Loftus, by the man Paradyne. It was the most miserable business that
ever came out to the world, he said, blighting all their prospects for life;
never a rogue, so great, went unhung.
"And he had only been with them. a couple of years," he wound up
with; only a couple of years The marvel was, that he could have
done so much mischief in so short a time "
The marvel was, that he could have done it at all without being
detected," interposed Loftus.
Ay," corrected Trace; "people could not understand how he con-
trived to hoodwink my father. But that came of over-confidence: he
had such blind trust in Paradyne."
"Why did they take him in partner at all ?" asked Irby.
"Ah, why indeed !" responded Trace, pushing his trencher up with a
petulant jerk, as if the past transaction were a present and personal
wrong. But the business had grown too large for one head, and Mr.
Loftus was almost a sleeping partner. If we could only foresee the end
of things at the beginning!"
"Let it drop, Trace," said Loftus. "It's not so pleasant a thing to
The fellow called himself Captain Paradyne; he came introduced
to them grandly," resumed Trace, in utter disregard of the interruption.
" Of course he dropped the Captain' when he joined them."
"Was the man hung ? questioned Irby.
"Neither hung nor transported: he saved himself. On the evening
of his first examination before the magistrates," continued Trace, after
he was put back in the cell, he took poison."
Irbyis eyes grew round with awe. What a wicked simpleton he
must have been to do that! Poor fellow, though," he added, a feeling
of compassion stealing over him, I daresay he "
"When you undertake to relate a history, gentlemen, you should
confine yourselves to the truth. Mr. Paradyne did not take poison. He
died of heart disease, brought on by excitement."
The interruption was Mr. Henry's. He quietly put his head round



the pillar, and then came into full view, with his sketch-book and
"How do you know anything about it ?" demanded Trace, recovering
from his surprise.
I do happen to know about it," was the calm answer. The case
was bad enough, as Heaven knew; but you need not make it worse."
It was reported that he took poison," coldly persisted Trace.
Only at the first moment. When he was found dead, people
naturally leaped to that conclusion, and the newspapers published it as
a fact. But on the inquest it was proved by the medical men that he
had died from natural causes. I think," added Mr. Henry, in a dreamy
kind of tone, that that report arose in mercy."
The three boys stared at him questioningly.
To his friends the business of itself was cruel enough-the discovery
that he whom they had so respected as the soul of honour, was un-
worthy. Then followed the worse report of his self-destruction, and in
that shock of horror the other was lost-was as nothing. But when
the truth came to light on the following day-that he had not laid
guilty hands on himself, but that God had taken him,-why, the re-
vulsion of feeling, the thankfulness, was so great as to seem like a very
boon from Heaven. It enabled them to bear the disgrace as a lesser evil:
the blow had lost its sting."
"Did you know him ? questioned Trace.
"I knew him in Germany. And these particulars, when they
occurred, were written over to me."
"Perhaps you respected him in Germany ?" cynically added Trace,
who could not speak or think of the unfortunate Captain Paradyne with
his usual degree of equable temper.
"I never respected any one so much," avowed Mr. Henry, a scarlet
spot of hectic arising in his pale cheeks.
Trace made no rejoinder. To contend was not his habit. It was
impossible he could think worse of any one than of the unhappy man in
question, and nothing had ever convinced Trace fully that the death was
a natural one.
He has been dead four years," gently suggested Mr. Henry, as if
bespeaking their mercy for his memory. "As to his son, it must be a
question for Dr. Brabazon, of course, whether or not he remains here;
but I would ask you what he, the boy, has done, that you should visit
the past upon him ? Can you not imagine that the calamity of itself is
a sufficient blight on his life? Be generous, and do not proclaim him
to the school."



It would be more generous not to do it," candidly avowed Irby, who
had a good-natured, ready tongue: Of course it was not the boy's
fault; we shall lose nothing by it."
"C Lose!" repeated Mr. Henry. "If you only knew the gain!
There's not a kind action that we ever do, but insures its reward;
there's not a word of ill-nature, a secret deed of malice, but comes home
to' us four-fold, sooner or later. Look out carefully as you go through
life, and see whether I do not tell you truth."
"Young Paradyne is free for me," said Mr. Loftus. And Irby nodded
his head approvingly.
Thank you greatly; I shall take it as a kindness shown myself,"
said Mr. Henry, and he turned and looked at Trace.
"Of course if Mr. Henry wishes the thing to be hushed up, and Dr.
Brabazon to be left in ignorance-- "
"Stay," said the master, interrupting Trace's words. "You heard
me say a moment ago that it must be a question for Dr. Brabazon
whether or not he remains here. But I think that Dr. Brabazon would,
Sin either event, counsel you not to denounce the boy publicly."
I am not given to denounce my companions publicly, or privately
either; as you perhaps will find when you are used to us," was the civil
rejoinder. "If the doctor condones the past, why, let it be condoned;
I can't say more. But the sooner the question is decided, the better."
Mr. Henry turned round with the last word, and applied himself to
his drawing. Loftus and Irby strolled away, and Trace besought an
interview with Dr. Brabazon, and told him who Paradyne was. To do
Trace justice, he spoke without prejudice ; not alluding minutely to past
facts, but simply saying that the new scholar, George Paradyne, was the
son of the man who had committed all sorts of ill, and ruined his father
and Mr. Loftus.
"And you and Loftus think you can't study with him !" observed the
doctor, when he had listened, and asked a few questions.
I did not say that, sir: it is for you to decide. We shall get over
the unpleasantness by degrees, no doubt, if he does stay on."
"Very well, Trace; I'll consider of it. Keep a strictly silent tongue
about it in the college."
The interview did not last many minutes. Soon after its ter-
mination, an authoritative cry was heard down the cloisters for Loftus
maj or.
Here," shouted Loftus from the other end of the quadrangle.
"You are to go in to Dr. Brabazon."



Away went Loftus in his indolent fashion; he rarely hurried himself
for anything. Dr. Brabazon met him at his study door : he put into
his hands a parcel tied with string, and sealed at the ends with the
doctor's seal.
Your pistols, Loftus. I shalt have something to say to you later in
regard to them and the calamity you have most unjustifiably been the
means of causing. Take them back at once; and make my compliments
to Sir Simon, and say I particularly wish to see him. Perhaps he will
oblige me by coming over : to-day, if possible. You'll be back to dinner,
if you put your best foot foremost."
Mr. Loftus flung on his gown and cap, and went away with the parcel
in an access of private rage. It was so mortifying! it was the very
acme of humiliation !-a dog with a burnt tail could feel jolly, in
comparison. Some of the middle-school boys, leaping over the road from
the plantation, came right upon him. That incorrigible Dick was one of
them, and he recognized the parcel.
It's the pistols," proclaimed Dick. "Brabazon has turned them out.
I say, Bertie, though, that's not so bad; we had bets that he'd confiscate
"A pity but he could confiscate you," was the scornful retort thrown
Dick laughed. The throIng echoed it. But Mr. Loftus went -on his
way, and made no further sign, his fine figure drawn to its full height,
and his nose held in the air.

(To be continued.)


I/-`I~i~ -CI zl--


~~--, ~ ~ ------- II

7--c -- -z--- - -


rT face page 21.

ints mz Smorts aJ ntetim^.


^^j KNOW very well that, as a general rule, young gentle-
men of the present day do not believe in the system of
learning sports and pastimes by book tuition; they
prefer to instruct themselves by going directly to the
practice without troubling about the theory. I am not
going to quarrel with them for their very pardonable error, if error it
be; after all, a good stroke with an oar, or straight round-arm bowling,
is not to be acquired by reading. What I hope to be able to do in
the course of my papers on sports and.pastimes, is to give some useful *"
hints, that by their brevity and pertinence may not be unacceptable.
With this much of preface, tinkle, tinkle, up goes the curtain, and my
performance commences.
Despite their general appreciation and use of out-door exercises, our
worthy forefathers do not seem to have numbered skating in the list of
their amusements until very late on in humanity's history; indeed, it is
not till what are familiarly known as modern times that we really find
it brought much into practice. It is more than probable that it first origi-
nated with the Dutch, who, in that particular branch of the art known as
fast skating, are unequalled. In fact, Holland may not inappropriately
be termed the land of skates. There, in the winter time, the frozen lakes
and canals are turned into thoroughfares, and are thronged with pas-
sengers from morning to night, especially by the working classes, whc
find in them the most expeditious road for transporting them to theii
daily labours, or carrying their wares to market. Dutch skaters are not
what can be called graceful in their movements; everything is sacrificed
to speed, and they care little what appearance they present so long as
they get over the ice with celerity.
To give some notion of what these glassy highways are like, I may


instance the ship canal from the Helder to Amsterdam, which is nearly
eighty miles in length, 120 feet broad, and twenty-five feet deep ; thus
affording, when open, passage for the largest merchant ships. The scene
on the canals of Holland is highly picturesque,-the women with their
baskets on their heads, and their short bright-coloured petticoats,
bending over their long skates, as they hurry along to the nearest market
In Russia, as is well known, for upwards of six months the great
part of the travelling is done in sledges, which are horsed and capari-
soned according to the rank and wealth of the owner. Here, too,
skating has been for some time a very favourite amusement, and many
of the most noble ladies in the land are skilful adepts in the art. In
Canada it has also become the favourite recreation during the winter,
and there he who really is fond of it as an exercise-though, by the way,
not unattended with danger-may journey away over fields of ice miles
and miles in extent. It is unnecessary to consider how long skating
has been the vogue in this country. Of late there has been little oppor-
tunity for indulging in it, owing to the mildness of the winter, and the
protracted absence of Jack Frost.
To learn to skate well is a by no means easy task. In using the
word "well," I mean with grace and finish, and without any of that
awkwardness which is very common among those who think they can
skate. It is extremely difficult, I had almost said impossible, to tell
a beginner how to commence, what to do when he finds himself standing
alone upon his skates for the first time on the ice, with his legs trying
hard to run one away from the other in opposite directions, and his
head inclining in an ominous manner in the direction of a back fall. The
most important thing of all is courage;-as with swimming so with
skating, you can never hope to succeed unless you set out with pluck
and confidence. Take my advice, do not have anything to do with
chairs, sticks, or artificial supports of any kind or description; but first
watch the movements of some expert in the art, and then try to imitate
him. You are sure to have many awkward tumbles and bumps, but
you must give no heed to them-it is by them that you pay your footing.
The least objectionable plan, if you have not nerve enough to attempt
alone, is to obtain the assistance of two friends, who can skate, and sup-
porting yourself between them get them to assist you in the earlier
stages. But if you can avoid even this, do, as thereby the time it will
take you to feel quite at home on your skates is only lengthened.
It will be as well, however, for me to say something with reference to
fastening the skates on, as therein lies the condition precedent to accom-



polishing steadiness and confidence. If your fingers are cold and you
yourself nervous, the chances are that a strap will be half drawn up or
a screw insufficiently secured, and after the first two or three tremulous
strides, you find yourself in a laughable but at the same time rather
painful situation. The best kind of boots to wear with every kind of
skate are good stout Balmorals, made of strong, supporting leather
throughout, as they fortify the ancle, where weakness is sure to show
itself. To these the skates should be firmly secured, strapped, and
screwed, care being taken not to impede the free action of the foot by
"tight lacing."
There are various kinds of skates more or less popular. I would,
however, warn beginners against getting what are known as "fluted"
skates, which it is frequently very erroneously thought are best for
novices. They not only induce a very bad style, but are dangerous,
inasmuch that when the groove becomes clogged, they bring their
wearer down, to a certainty. Neither are the Dutch class to be desired,
and except for travelling long distances over the ice, they are of no use,
as it is next to impossible to cut
any figures with them. The
/ accompanying sketch (No. 1)
shows a very popular and really
good description of skate. In
Buying such as these, care should
be taken to see that the leather
No. toe, when laced up, fits closely
over the boot. It should also be borne in mind, that the height of
the blade at the back should not be more than an inch, and in the
front about three quarters of an inch. A greater depth than this
will not only cause inconvenience, but much weaken the ankles, which
in the early lessons are put to severe, and with many people, painful
test. The skates much worn by the London Skating Club, for simplicity
of fastening are unequalled. The only objection to be made to
them is that they require a pair of boots to be specially made to fit
them. The front portion is fastened to the sole of the boot by means of
a pair of claws, into which it is slipped; this brings the small piece of
upright steel on the heel of the skate in line with a hole pierced across
through the heel of the boot from one side to the other. Through
these two a small iron bolt with a head to it is passed, and on the
further side a small nut is screwed on, which, with the assistance of a
strap-which, by the way, is often not used-passing round the instep
from the back of the skate, completes a fastening which does not take


two minutes to accomplish. I can warmly recommend this description
of skate not only to those who have become sufficiently advanced in the
art to cut figures, but to beginners also. As will be seen, they are
round at the heel ; consequently the stopping process is different from
that with the square heels; but speaking from personal experience and
having taken my earliest paces in them, I believe that not only can
ease and confidence be more readily acquired, but, never having to change
your kind of skates, when the time comes for cutting figures the diffi-
culty of so doing is lessened.
There is also another description of skate; as described in figure No.
2, which also requires a pair of boots especially adapted to it. As will
be seen by the accompanying sketch, the simplicity of its fastening is the
great recommendation, the boot and the skate being secured to one
another with the greatest facility.

No. 2.
Having got upon his feet, the beginner should first try and balance
himself. Though I have said that nothing can be done without courage,
I do not mean that care and discretion should be thrown overboard, and
wild and desperate recklessness be indulged instead. The first effort
should be to keep the legs as near together as possible; the toes should
be more apart than the heels, which must be close to one another.
When he finds that he can stand firmly on his skate, the novice should
first strike forward on the inside edge with his right foot, bearing the
greater part of his weight on the front part of the blade. The hands
should be ready for any emergency, either to balance or save in falling.
And here I might parenthetically remark, that it is highly dangerous to
carry either a stick or an umbrella, for not only do they get in the way,
but in the event of a tumble not at all unfrequently bring about the




most serious accidents. Having pushed forward the right foot about a
yard, the right leg should be straightened, and then the left must be
brought up close alongside it, and is struck out in precisely the same
manner, the weight of the body being thrown on to it in turn. As this
is done, the foot that is not being used should be lifted up. This is the
most elementary form of skating. As he improves, the beginner should
endeavour to keep his inactive leg as long off the ice as he can, and in
time he will find himself describing very nearly a circle. Thus starting
from the right foot, he would go thus-


and gradually increasing in the speed of his movements, he will gain
much confidence by such practice.
The next thing to be done is to learn the outside edge, and this will
require a great deal of patience, and necessitate no end of falls, unless
the pupil is very quick and singularly fortunate. It is the first step
towards what is called figure-skating. Here, in commencing, the move-
ment is somewhat the same as in preparing for the inside edge, with this
difference, that in striking forward with the right foot, the left shoulder
is thrown forward, the right drawn back, and the head turned as if
looking over it. In addition to this, the weight of the body must be
thrown on the outside edge of the skate. The result of this will be that
the foot takes a direction exactly opposite to what it does on the inside
edge. When the stroke has been ended, the left leg is brought up to
the right, with a slight jerk, which brings the body into its proper
position; the left foot is then passed over the right about eight inches in
advance of it, an impetus is given by a firm stroke from the inside edge
of the right foot, and the left is pushed forward, the right shoulder
being brought forward, the left dropped back, and the head inclined over
the left shoulder. When once this rather difficult movement is accom-
plished, the beginner will be on the high road to becoming thoroughly
conversant with the art; but I would warn him that probably more
tumbles occur in the course of learning the outside edge than in any
other branch of skating education.
With reference to cutting figures, I can do no more than give some
general hints, with the preliminary remark that I would not advise any
one to be in too great a hurry to get to the advanced stage. They must
be most thoroughly at home in their skates, and able to cut the outside


edge with perfection and facility, both forward and backward. For
instance, the figure of 8, which is no easy task to accomplish, is done on
the outside edge forward, the first circle being made with one leg, and
the second with the other. When, however, the second stroke is taken
for the second circle, the impetus given by the foot that has just made
the first circle is from the outside instead of the inside edge; thus when
the right leg has performed its part, the left is thrown across it, a strong
pressure still being retained on the outside edge of the right skate, by
which an impetus is given without any waiting at all; Great care
should be taken here not to throw the body towards the left side too
hastily, or with a jerk, as very little will upset you.
The "Mercury" used to be a very favourite figure at one time, and is a
variation of the movements of the inside and outside edges forward, per-
formed at great speed. Having gained considerable impetus by a previous
run, and being on the outside edge of the right foot, the left is raised
from the ice a little way behind the other, the toe being pointed down-
wards and the right arm extended. Thus the skater glides over the ice
like a winged Mercury. The Spread Eagle is also popular, and is pro-
duced, after good speed having been attained, by the assumption of a
squatting position, the knees being turned out right and left, and the
movement performed on the inside edge of the right skate forward, and
the outside edge of the left skate backward.
The inside edge backward, as described in the figure of 3, is
commenced by a movement on the outside edge, which completes the
first loop; then the skater should lean forward and press on the toe of
the same foot inside, and keeping his head in the direction he wishes to
go, will find a backward motion taking him, which will enable him to
finish the tail of the 3.




The outside edge backward had best be attempted at the conclusion
of cutting the figure 3. The same direction as has been taken with
the foot by which it has been described is continued only on the other;
thus, supposing the right has been the one employed, when the lower
loop has been finished the left is put down on the outside edge, the right
shoulder drawn back, and the head turned over the right shoulder. This


movement must be done, at the commencement, gently and slowly; and
the first effort should be to lift up the leg with which the figure is
originally cut. With practice, the beginner will be able to take the
same movement with it; and, when he has mastered these two very
trying branches of the art, he will be able to cut almost any figure.
There are a variety of figures for him, which I will not pretend to
discuss : as I said before, so I again repeat, let him watch some good
skater, and imitate his movements as nearly as he can.
However enthusiastic the aspirant be to perfect himself in the art,
he should be cautious not to venture upon the ice till it really bears
without those unpleasant stroller's cracks. If he should by accident
find himself on rotten ice, he should, as the Yankees say, make tracks"
as quickly as he can; and, if he fall through, he should stretch his arms
straight away from him on either side, so as to rest, as far as possible, on
the surrounding ice, treading water the while.

It will not be out of place to append here the treatment to be pursued
with persons who have been immersed in the water for any time, until'
a doctor has put in an appearance.
The body should be removed, in a horizontal position, to a room where
there is a fire. The clothes should at once be taken off, and a thorough
good rubbing follow, until the skin is perfectly dry. This should be
done quickly. Meanwhile blankets must be heated, as also towels.
The patient is wrapped in the blankets, and his lower extremities
rubbed with the towels. Hot-water bottles may be applied under the
arm-pits, and to the soles of the feet and the palms of the hands. Care
should be taken that the head is higher than the rest of the body, and
smelling-salts may be applied to the nose. If the patient can take a
little brandy or wine-and-water, it may be given. For further remedies,
it is best to await the doctor. It should, however, always be borne in
mind that, though animation is suspended, it may be restored after two
or three hours, and the most important means is to keep up regular
friction of hands, legs,-in fact, every portion of the body.





S HAD been a sojourner in London for some years when
one Christmas I resolved to go down to my old home in
I Bedfordshire, to enjoy myself for a few days. I was
the more inclined to do this, having received a note to
the effect that my presence would be most welcome,
inasmuch as in the little village of Milford was to be held a Christmas
Festival; and knowing that I had a penchant for magic lanterns and
exhibitions thereof, my friends thought it a good opportunity for making
myself amiable, and at the same time amusing the rustic inhabitants of
my native village. I must confess that I was heartily glad of the
chance which presented itself. I certainly had made a hobby of the
magic lantern, and from a boy I had doated on the pictures which
shone forth through the darkness, displaying in their richest colours
the long heard-of but unseen wonders of far-off lands, as well as the
comicalities which all boys (young and old) can appreciate. In addition
to this I lay claim to a laudable desire to promote the happiness of my
fellow-creatures, more especially of that portion yclept "juvenile."
The scene is Euston Station. The snow lies thick upon the ground.
A cab has noiselessly whirled me, with a fun-loving cousin of mine, and
two carefully-packed parcels-one containing two dissolving-view lan-
terns, with the various slides, and the other two single lanterns intended
as presents, and of one of which more anon.
Now, porter, take care of those parcels," shouts Charlie; "there's
a whole exhibition in them, and you'll spoil it if you smash them."
We see them safe into the luggage-van, and after seating ourselves,


and beholding a rush of late-comers, and hearing the fiend-like shriek of
the engine, we are whirled away through the falling snow to Bedford-
shire, which lies fifty miles away.
"I hope they'll let no old maid's heavy box fall upon those lanterns,"
I ejaculate, as we fly past Harrow.
Bring an action against the company, if they do," replies Charlie,
and then falls to rubbing his hands with glee as he thinks of a little
scheme brewing in his mischievous head, and in which one of the said
lanterns is to play a part.
We rush on through Hertfordshire, and as the distance is lessened
which separates us from our destination, the night comes on, and we
begin to wonder who will be at the station to meet us; and as we are
cogitating, we rush shrieking into Bletchley Station, and after changing
trains we find ourselves on the junction line which will take us to the
little town of Ampthill, a mile or two from which is Milford.
Past Fenny Stratford and over the canal bridge, stopping for a mo-
ment at Woburn Sands, where lilies of the valley grow by thousands in
the sweet summer time, and after disdaining to loiter at other stations,
we find ourselves at Ampthill, or rather at the station, for the town lies
three miles away. We look out of window, and as we hear voices borne
on the frosty air we think we know to whom some of them belong.
A lamp is thrust into our faces, and we step on the platform. "Ah,
father, is that you?" cries Charlie, as a stout hearty old gentleman
bustles up, followed by a lad extremely like himself, and who is
brother to Charlie.
Porter, do mind what on earth you're about with those parcels, and
remember they are glass and not india-rubber." A fact the porter
doesn't forget, as he places them in a capacious trap which stands in
front of the little hostel just outside the station, and feels a shilling
drop into his hand.
Well, uncle, how are you, and how's mother and aunt and the girls,
and how are you, Bob?" I exclaim, as I feel my hand grow hot beneath
the squeezing and shaking of my Uncle John and Cousin Bob.
"All right, my boy," says Uncle John. But come along, and let's
get over the five miles between here and home as quickly as we can.
Holloa, Brown where have you put the parcels ? Oh, all right Now,
Bob, don't kick them to pieces. You get up behind with Charlie, wrap
your feet up well in the cloth, George," and away we go over the snowy
ground as fast as a good trotting mare can carry us.
We pass the time right cheerfully, chatting of things past and present,
and in making inquiries and answering them; and, as we go slowly up



the hill on which Millbrook lies straggling, I overhear Charlie gleefully
whispering to Bob that It'll be the greatest fun in the world," to
which Bob replies, Oh, won't it ?"-the result of which conversational
fragment is a strong belief in my mind that mischief is brewing of which
Uncle John knows nought.
We have climbed the hill and bade good night to the solitary turn-
pike-man, and are running alongside the boundary of one of the finest
old parks in England, with trees that date their birth a thousand years
back, and over the undulating slopes of which lofty and- lowly have
passed, full of entrancement as they gazed upon the lovely scene. As
we look along the straight road we can see the outpost lamp of the little
town of Ampthill; on our right we can hear the tall pines of the long,
dark plantation swaying in the wind, but we know that on the soft
green velvet carpet beneath them all is tranquil; on the left, the huge
bare arms of the park oaks look spectral by the light of the white snow.
Just as we entered the town, and opposite to the "Alameda," a beautiful
avenue of lime trees-which in the summer time forms a favourite public
walk-at the entrance to which are some old gates brought from Spain,
Uncle John suddenly pulled up. A cottage door opened, and a man came
out, running briskly across the crisp snow to the side of the trap. As a
painted board informed all passers-by, this was John Barwood, tailor,
and not only a tailor, but an honest, good-tempered man into the
bargain. More quips and cranks had passed across his tailor's board
than ever were smuggled into Joe Miller, and more deeds of kindness had
he done to his neighbours than he himself could enumerate. He loved
bees, and kept them in swarms; he loved children, and kept them too,
but in a lesser multitude. Everybody liked the man, and Uncle John
shared in the general partiality, and saluted John with a hearty "How
d'ye do, Barwood; is the screen ready ?"
No, sir, I've been working hard at it, but I'm afraid it won't be ready
for an hour yet; if it won't be too late, I'll run over with it. How do
you do, Mr. George," addressing me, "glad to see you home again. I
can see London has rot taken all the fun out of you, Master Charles !"
John was fated to verify the last statement in a fashion he little
dreamed of, and I suspect that Charlie had got an inkling from Bob of
the fact that the screen would not be ready, and that the tailor, knowing
it was wanted, would offer to take it to Woodlands, the farm-house in
which my uncle resided.
Very well," said Uncle John, but don't be late. You tailors are
not a very punctual race, you know, and we don't want to be knocked
up at one in the morning to take in a Magic Lantern screen."



Mr. Barwood protested that he would be punctual, and bidding us
good night, betook himself to his shop to finish the screen.
"We soon reached Milford, and were brought safe to the farm, and
found my mother and aunt with a whole troop of boys and girls ready
to receive us. Merry boys and bright-eyed girls they were too; some of
them cousins of mine, others visitors who had been invited to spend
Christmas with the boys of Woodlands. We greeted each other as
people only do at Christmas time and when they have been long parted,
and the travellers soon found themselves despatching a hearty meal in
front of a good old English fire, blazing upon the capacious hearth.
The table cleared and snugly drawn round the fire, conversation soon
turned to the expected festival, and, at the solicitation of the juveniles,
the parcel containing the lanterns was brought in. They were carefully
unwrapped and at last stood forth in all their pristine newness, as I had
received them but a few days before from the manufacturer. The two
which had been brought as presents were also set before their recipients,
who were not slow to scrutinise them inside and out, and to view the
slides with a jealous eye as they held them to the light.
"I think, my boy," said Uncle John, "you had better give them a
lecture on the way to use these things, or they'll be melting the solder,
and playing all sorts of tricks with them."
I will,' to-morrow," I replied, "for I shall want them to help me at
the exhibition, and they may as well know how to do it for themselves
on some other occasion."
"All right; now, mamma, let those snapdragons come up, and let the
boys burn their fingers before they go to bed."
And the boys accordingly did, not sorrowfully but laughingly and
with the right kind of glee, which proved contagious enough to make
the old folks hold their sides more than once.
But in the midst of the fun Charlie and Bob had disappeared. During
the discussion on the lanterns, they had signified their intention of going
to meet Mr. Barwood and relieve him of the screen. At the same time
I noticed they held a close conference with one of the happy recipients
of the lanterns, which ended in Charlie borrowing his lantern with a
slide or two for an hour.
"Mind, Charlie," cried Uncle John, Barwood will come along the
lanes, and the snow is deep in some places."
"I'll take care," responded Mr. Mischief; "I shall take' a lantern
with me ;" which was perfectly true, although not in the sense in which
his father understood the information, for the only lantern he had was
the magic lantern.



The result of going to meet the tailor must be told as it was narrated
to me by the chief actors in the matter. Mr. Barwood had left home
about the time he promised. His nearest way lay through some bye-
lanes, which, after a heavy fall of snow, would in some places make
walking dangerous; however, he knew the way well, and as the hour
was late and time precious, he did not hesitate to go through the lanes
in preference to taking the high road, which would add a half mile to
his walk. Charlie and Bob must have left the farm about the same
.time as the tailor left Ampthill. They knew every inch of the way and
were careful to avoid the pitfalls which lay strewn thickly around.
About a quarter of a mile from home they came to a turn in the lane
where, on one side, in the corner forming the angle, a high but very
thin hedge stood. By some curious freak, the snow had so lodged upon
the hedge as to form a white curtain up to a height of some four feet
from the ground. In fact, to the casual observer at night the hedge
would be invisible, and would look like a mound of snow by the side of
the road. On the other side was a turnip field. This was just the spot
Messrs. Mischief & Co. had sallied forth to find, and here they prepared
to carry out the object of their journey. They selected a place behind
the hedge opposite to the angle, where, through a small hole, the pro-
jecting tube could be thrust, while they remained unseen. After
stamping about in the snow for a few minutes to keep themselves warm,
they heard clear whistling notes musically forming themselves into a
good old psalm tune, with which Barwood beguiled his way to the farm.
In a moment they were behind the hedge, and the lantern was drawn
forth from its wrapper, the lamp lighted, and all prepared.
The tailor came merrily on, carrying the screen rolled upon wooden
rollers over his shoulder. Just as he had got to the climax of a tune
sweetly whistled forth he came to the angle of the lane, and a flash of
light darted across, leaving on the opposite side a white disc of light that
looked like a great eye glaring at him through the darkness. Barwood
halted and for a moment contemplated the light. All was darkness and
stillness around. There was no house within half-a-mile, and tradition
said the lane was haunted. No man is brave in the presence of a
ghost. He who flinches not in the shower of shot and ball on the
battle-field trembles in the midst of black darkness at the sound of a
groan. Barwood would probably have run from a ball, as any reasonable
man, not paid to be shot at, would do, but he cared for no ghosts. As
he stared atthe light he heard a stifled noise, and there, on the bank
of snow, appeared a great hideous face, such as he had never pictured
in his imagination.



We were enjoying the snap-dragons, when Messrs. Charlie and Bob
came in looking very red and warm, as after a good hard run.
"Well, did you meet Mr. Barwood ? "
"Yes, father, he's coming," said Charlie, and the pair sat down and
joined in the fun, looking mischievously at each other the while.
In a few minutes a great noise was heard outside. "Eyes as big as
saucers ? You must have fallen asleep and dreamed," said a voice.
"Look at me, do I look like it said the tailor's voice. "If I did I
dreamed I sprained my ancle, and I'm not awake 'yet "
"What's the matter? crys Uncle John, coming out. "What's the
matter ? cry Charlie and all the boys.
What's the matter ?" said Barwood, out of breath. "Why, just at
Deadman's Corner-something-great rolling eyes and a horrible mouth
--and the screen's gone "-for he hadn't breath to tell how he had
gone headlong over the hedge.
"( The screen gone-where ?" cried the whole company.
As they asked, the tailor stood, with staring eyes, looking into one
corner of the kitchen, and pointing speechlessly at some object-the
screen itself, which stood there. At the same time Bob and Charlie
were suddenly seized with such writhing contortions combined with
great shouts of laughter as they rolled on the floor, that the whole com-
pany turned with one accord upon them. In a moment Mr. Barwood
saw to the bottom of the affair, and Uncle John saw it too.
"Why, why! Charlie! Bob! what's it mean? There, forgive
them, Barwood, it's Christmas time, you know. Come over to-morrow
to the exhibition, and we'll make you jolly. How comes this, boys ? "
almost ready to burst with laughter himself.
"Ha ha oh we couldn't help it-it was- -ha ha !-it was-


(To be continued.)



SIbhnturm of 4esnua Mabpstcipt,
BY LIEUT. C. R. LOW, (late) I. N.

SAPTAIN HAWSEPIPE was, in many respects, a cha-
racter. He was a tall, athletic, raw-boned man, with a
face the contour of which was angular and as hard as
nails. One would think that he could undergo any
amount of "punishment," as the pugilists call it, with
all the sang-froid of Tom Sayers himself. The eyes were small and
deep-set, the nose long and high, and the general aspect of his features
would be characterized as singular, and the more so, as they were
tattooed all over with representations of birds and wild animals. This
gave a most grotesque expression to the countenance, which would
doubtless have been thought by some sinister, if not repulsive, but for the
good humour which beamed (like a broad expanse of sunshine on a
bleak and rugged landscape) over the whole physiognomy of the man.
This geniality of temper twinkled in the little, quickly-moving, restless
eyes, in the corners of the large though somewhat coarse mouth, and
found vent in the loud peals of laughter in which he would indulge at
any joke that tickled his fancy, and which explosions of mirth were of
so boisterous and stentorian a character that you would think you were
in the presence of the dreaded Ogre of nursery rhymes, or the Titan of
school-boy days.
He was a good old man was the "skipper" of the Ramchundra
East Indiaman, and all hands, from the chief mate to the ship's cook's
mate or the loblolly boy would obey his orders with alacrity, or do any
suit or service he might require with as much anxiety to please, as if he
were the Cham of Tartary himself, and with a great deal more hearty
good-will than that mighty though mysterious potentate could command.
I was once engaged in a pirate affair with him, where we had rather

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" Catch hold of the rope, there's a shark close to you."

lo face page 34.


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y *-'&




f-f lj



a narrow escape from three proas, crammed full of those miscreants,
who chased us some five miles down the river from Canton, keeping up
a hot fusillade the whole of the way; and it was only by dint of almost
superhuman exertions on the part of the Chinese boatmen who pulled
our Sampan," and also, in a great measure, to the heavy and
continuous fire we three Englishmen kept up from a good stock of
rifles which we had brought with us to guard against the possibility of
such an attack-that we escaped with our lives, after killing and
wounding a large number of our assailants, who, crowded together in
dense masses in their row-boats, offered a splendid mark to our rifles.
On that occasion the gentleman who made up the trio with Captain
Hawsepipe and myself (not reckoning one of the Ramchundra's seamen,
who had seized the steering-oar), was an unerring shot, and did great
execution with his Westley Richards but just before the pirates
desisted from their chase, he received a musket-ball in the wrist, which
put an end to his shooting for many a day afterwards.
"C All's well that ends well," is a trite though true saying, but had
you on that memorable occasion seen our jolly old friend, even in that
most critical period of the chase when our assailants were gradually
gaining upon us, explode into roars of laughter, as he knocked over a
John Chinaman," you would never have forgotten it. I know, for my
part, I wondered at his utter indifference to danger, for I was counting
the minutes that would probably elapse before the blood-thirsty wretches
howling in our rear would overhaul us, and cut all our throats.
The captain, after the pirates had had enough of it, and the pursuit
had been discontinued, and while we were refreshing the inner man,
gave us at my request the particulars of his adventures in Borneo
when taken prisoner as a boy by a party from one of the tribes, half
pirates, half robbers, which used to infest that island in days gone by ;
thanks, however, to the energy of Rajah Brooke and the English men-
of-war which have co-operated with him so much to the benefit of
commerce and the well-being of the benighted inhabitants of that little-
known island, piracy may now be said to be a thing almost of the
That great innovator, "steam," has worked wonders there as else-
where, ior a screw gun-boat can pounce down upon a nest of these
ruffians against wind and tide, when, in old times, a sailing ship-of-war
had often the mortification of seeing a squadron of these craft escape her
clutches, after a long and successful chase; the breeze, which in those
latitudes is very capricious, would perhaps fall light, and the crews of
the proas, after taking in all sail, and putting out their long sweeps
D 2


would soon leave astern the dreaded Feringhees, and leisurely pulling
round the nearest head-land would disappear up one of the numerous
creeks that intersect the coasts of Borneo, and the intricate navigation
of which defies all pursuit.
I will tell the story, as it was told to me, in the first person, and so
put the reader into personal contact with my friend, Joshua Hawsepipe,
Master Mariner.

"Well, my lad (said he, taking a long pull at a tankard of .brandy and
water, hot and strong, for he made one of the sampan" men light a
fire, and set the kettle a boiling without loss of time), Well, this was
my first voyage, for I was but twelve years of age, and had much diffi-
culty in persuading my poor mother, God bless her (said he, raising
his hat reverently), to allow me to follow my bent and go to sea. Oppo-
sition to my wishes was found to be useless, and both father and mother
at length gave their consent, and after getting my outfit, I sailed from
Plymouth onboard one of the brigs of war of his late Majesty King
George the Third.
The Minnow, 12-gun brig, was a small vessel, and had been built
during the Revolutionary War with France. She was, therefore, very
old, and, having seen a good deal of hard service off the coast skirting
the northern shore of the Mediterranean, where she had received more
than her share of the blows which, in those days, were bandied about
pretty freely between the belligerent powers, was not considered by
those nautical men who could form an opinion very seaworthy. While
employed under the command of a most brilliant young officer, destroy-
ing the depots and semaphore stations along the southern shores of
France, she had dozens of times been struck with round shot, and in
fact had been so severely handled on such-like occasions that she should
by rights have been broken up, and not ordered, as was now the case,
to a distant station like Australia. The Admiralty knew that she
would have to pass through some of the stormiest seas in the world
before reaching her destination, but a consideration of that sort did not
"deter My Lords." As Shylock says, Ships are but boards, sailors but
men; and then, there is the peril of waters, winds, and rocks." Sailors are
not much given to womanish fears, but a leaky ship is what "Jack" has
a wholesome dread of. The Minnow was patched up hastily, and the
command of her given to a very old and distinguished officer, who only
now, received this tardy and dubious reward for his lengthened service
in consequence of the outcry made by some of the press, echoing the
sentiments of indignation which the public generally entertained at



the neglect with which Commander Norris had been treated by the
When Captain Norris hoisted his pennant, the best men flocked to his
ship, and I, being lucky as I was told, was one of the first to be shipped
as boy on board her. After bidding my friends good-bye, and shedding
some tears at the parting with my kind parents, though I strove to
hide my emotion-for I thought such a display of weakness from
a Jack tar" was childish in the extreme-I made myself quite at
home on board the little brig, and turned my attention to mastering
my duties. The captain was immensely popular among the crew, and
he had been fortunate in having secured the appointment to his ship of
a seamanlike set of officers, who were not more distinguished for smart-
ness than for kind consideration.
We scarcely ever had any misconduct among the men, and punish-
ment of any kind was extremely rare. The "cat-o'-nine-tails" was
never let out" of the green-baize bag in which it was kept confined; and
the captain took occasion to tell his men the first Sunday they all mus-
tered on the quarter-deck in their clean new uniform,, consisting of blue
jacket, straw hat, and white pants, with the great collar of the blue
"jumper" thrown back, all in fact much the same as now-a-days-that
he never flogged, and hoped not to commence with the sailors of the
Minnow. That Sunday muster "at divisions" of all hands created
a great impression on my mind; for it was the first time I had ever
seen a man-o'-war's crew arrayed in the neat dress, which, being at the
same time serviceable and characteristic, is surely one of the happiest
ideas, in the shape of uniform, ever struck out of the inventive brain of
master tailor. The "Articles of War" were read out to us by the
captain, in a loud, clear voice, while the old man bared his white and
venerable head as he enunciated the orders issued by his Majesty for the
governance of the Navy. All hands, including the officers, followed
motions, and doffed their hats, while complete silence prevailed, as we
listened respectfully to the terrible laws, which form that "draconic"
code. Prayers were then read on the quarter-deck, which had been
previously rigged with flags, and fitted with an extemporized pulpit, and
then the hands were piped below. So passed the first day on board the
Minnow ; and from that time until her destruction, I may say, the
duties of the brig were carried on with strict discipline certainly, but
with a thoughtful consideration also for the comfort of the men, which
it would be better for the country's interests could it be found in more
of Her Majesty's ships.
I will not inflict on you the wearisome task of listening to an account



of the gales we encountered during the passage, and the ships we spoke;
for were I to do so, my tale would read much like a page from a
passenger's diary. There is a great deal of sameness about long sea
voyages; and it is well it should be so, rather than that the monotony
should be broken by such perilous occurrences as carrying away masts
or springing a leak. The old brig gave us a great deal of trouble; for
she was anything but watertight; and during the bad weather, of which
we had a fair share, her timbers used to strain and work in an alarming
manner, creaking the while as if in mortal agony. The captain spoke
of putting into Cape Town, or Symons Bay, for the purpose of caulking
the ship; but fine weather setting in, he changed his mind, and he set
studding-sails on both sides, and left the African continent astern, with
a spanking westerly wind driving the old tub along at the wonderful
speed, for her, of eight knots an hour.
Our destination was Sydney; but the ship, just before she gained the
longitude of the Straits of Sunda, for the second time encountered such
bad weather that the captain determined to go through those straits, and
steer for Singapore, where he intended to effect some necessary repairs.
The little brig leaked so greatly that a party of hands were sent to the
pumps, and night and day the clank of the breaks" could be heard as
the seamen relieved each other. After the gale had been blowing about
ten days, it abated, giving us some rest and quiet; and a fair breeze
which set in from the southward sent us fluking up until we sighted
We coasted for some distance along the shores of that beautiful
island, and were delighted with the sight of land once more after four
months of nothing but sea and sky; and such a coast, with surely the
most glorious scenery on this earth. It was of that tropical character
which positively seems to glow with beauty; that luxurious voluptuous
beauty of Oriental climes, which one must go to the golden East itself
to understand. No man can do justice to the rich foliage and varied
tints, which at last almost weary the eye with their wealth of splendour,
a perfect "embarras de richesse," as it were. Is there so brilliant a green
elsewhere ? and in what country, of our more frigid and less favoured
continent, can a traveller see the umbrageous forests and thick jungle
of gorgeous flowers and creeping plants actually dip their arms into the
crystal tide at high-water ?
"One day an event occurred which broke the hitherto pleasant cha-
racter of our voyage, and brought to my mind, in a painful manner, the
peculiar dangers of a sailor's life. The noontide heat had been very
great, and as there was not a breath of air stirring, the captain allowed




a few of the most expert swimmers on board to bathe alongside in a
sail which was lowered into the water, so as to prevent all danger
arising from sharks, with which these seas are teeming. No sooner did
some of the more hardy of the sailors find themselves in salt water, than
they determined to swim round the ship; it was such slow work, they
thought, dipping in a sail like old bathing women-two of them, accord-
ingly, contrary to strict orders, struck out and swam round the ship.
On their return, a young fellow, an "ordinary seaman" as he was rated,
left the protecting sail to perform the same feat, and had got half-way
round the ship, when some of his shipmates, who were standing on the
forecastle, saw, only a short distance astern, a sight which involuntarily
brought a cold shudder even over the oldest seamen on board who
witnessed it. About twenty yards from the rudder-round which the
water was gurgling and sweeping in playful eddies, as the ship rose and
fell on the gentle swell-could be distinctly seen a fin-nothing more
than the triangular-shaped, brown-tinted dorsal-fin of some fish, which,
indeed, looked innocent and harmless enough, as the sun for a second
glanced on it. It only appeared for a moment, and then was gone.
But, oh, horror! that object betrayed the presence of one of those
dreaded monsters, which are as pitiless and voracious in the deep, as on
land is the most savage specimen of the Bengal tiger of the Sunder-
bunds. Well did each man in the group of sailors standing on that
forecastle-as he caught sight, for one fleeting instant, of the glistening
fish's fin-know that the most fearful of deaths menaced their unfortunate
messmate, who, all unconsciously, was swimming into the very jaws of
the shark. For an instant there was a pause, then a general exclama-
tion of terror broke from the lips of the spectators. What had to be
done to save the swimmer must be done quickly; but the agonizing
question was, what could be done 7 It would only frighten the wretched
youth were they to apprise him of the imminent danger menacing
his life, and perhaps cause him to lose his presence of mind at the
critical moment when all his energies were most required. It is well
known that sudden fear has been the cause, under similar circumstances,
of quite paralyzing a man. On the other hand, every moment he was
nearing the monster, and action must be taken immediately.
The whole of the party jumped off the forecastle, and ran aft to the
waist of the ship, opposite which the young sailor was quietly swim-
ming. One of his messmates, an experienced old salt, motioned with
his head to his comrades to keep quiet and say nothing, while he-
jumping up on some spare top-masts, and other spars temporarily stowed
in the water-ways "-called out to young Masters :-


"I say, my lad, look alive; here's the captain coming this way, and
if he sees you larking about there, contrary to orders, he'll stop your
grog. Come, here's a rope's-end; swarm it, if you are man enough."
At the same time he desired his comrades to run aft and lower the
first cutter, which was always kept ready for use on any emergency.
The unconscious youth laughed, but did not offer to avail himself of the
rope's-end, which he could have easily seized. He moved about in the
water for. a minute, as if undecided whether he would do what his
companions had done before him, which was to swim round- the ship's
stern, and come on board from the port-side, or climb up the rope
hand over fist."
"Look alive, man," said the old forecastleman in a louder tone, and
with an expression and look of anxiety that he could not hide.
"What's up ?" said young Masters, seeing something had gone
wrong; and just at that moment the heavy cutter's blocks began to
creak as the falls" ran through them. It was no use now attempting
to conceal the danger that menaced the unhappy sailor, for the glis-
tening fin of the huge fish was again visible above the surface, not more
than ten yards from the spot where he was calmly treading" water,
quite at a loss to understand what all the fuss was about. The alarm
had quickly spread all over the ship. The captain, officers, and all
hands came flocking to the side, where could be seen now plainly
enough the back of the shark, and the disturbed water whirling round
in dimpled eddies as the creature sank again beneath the surface.
There was one general shout of, Catch hold of the rope, there's a shark
close to you;" and half-a-dozen lines were thrown almost over the
young man. All were within easy reach; but the fearful words, which
had awaked him like a night-mare from the enjoyment of his innocent
pastime, seemed just at the critical moment to paralyse his every energy.
Had he retained his presence of mind all might yet have been well; but
for two or three seconds he remained irresolute. His face was blanched
to a deadly pallor, and he turned his head round to catch sight of his
terrible enemy, instead of seeking to take advantage of the precious
-moments still left him. He was like a bird, when, fascinated by the eye
of a serpent, it feebly flutters its wings, and, with a stony gaze, awaits
the approach of its destroyer. The next minute the cutter touched the
-water, and the few men who had jumped into her shoved off from the
-ship's side with a vigorous push of their hands, which carried enough
way on the boat to bring her on to the scene of action, while a stout
topman armed himself with a boat-hook to drive off, if possible, the
voracious fish. But, alas! all was too late! As young Masters, at



length recovered from his fatal apathy, seized hold of a rope with con-
vulsive tenacity, and while his shipmates on board were in the very act
of dragging him through the water close up to the ship's side, the
shark made one fell rush from where he had been last seen, some ten
yards distant, and with unerring accuracy and marvellous swiftness
was, in the twinkling of an eye, close up to his victim. They had raised
Masters partially out of the water, when the blood-thirsty monster,
determined not to be so easily robbed of his prey, turned over on his
side, and with a sudden snap, like a dog at a bone, caught his wretched
victim by the right leg a little above the knee; one agonizing shriek
rang out loud and clear in the still air, thrilling through the brain of
the eye-witnesses, and curdling the very blood in the heart of the boldest
man there. This terrible scene was enacted before the eyes of every
man on board the brig. Some few ran about in a purposeless sort of
manner, and one or two actually jumped up on the rail with the
intention of diving down after their messmate, but were prevented from
carrying out so foolish a resolve. All were horror-stricken; but all
were powerless to act. Those in the boat tried to strike the monster;
but the unhappy youth, who was forced to let go the rope, covered the
fish with his body as he fell back into the water. The sea round the
spot was stained deep with the warm blood of the sailor, and we could
see that his leg had been frightfully torn by the shark's teeth, as for one
brief moment he clung with desperation to the line. The two disap-
peared beneath the water, and only a few bubbles rose to the surface,
marking the spot beneath which the poor youth was doubtless strug-
gling in the pitiless grasp of the great fish.
We all waited with unspeakable anxiety for the re-appearance of
Masters; soon, within a few feet of the cutter, there was an agitation of
the water, and then the mangled body of the ordinary seaman floated
to the surface.
His shipmates instantly drew him into the boat; but the wretched
young sailor merely gave one gasp and expired. His right leg had been
torn off in the most shocking manner; all the arteries and muscles of
the limb were exposed, and the flesh itself hung about in shreds. The
clothes of the oarsmen who lifted him on board were literally saturated
with blood, as the gore drained out of his body in a thick scarlet flood.
The shark had bitten the leg off a little above the knee, and then sailed
away with his ghastly meal, so that we saw no more of him.
It is probable that the poor fellow who fell a victim to disobedience of
orders, died as much from drowning as from the effect of the shock
to his system, although he would speedily have bled to death had such


not been the case. His body was brought on board, and the same
evening was consigned to the deep, amid the sincere regrets of his
So the Minnow skirted the northern coast of Java, and passed
through the Straits. Soon after we pointed the ship's head towards
Singapore, the whistling of the wind through the cordage betokened a
change, while in an incredibly short time the sea began to tumble about,
and the skies overhead looked as if we were going to have dirty
weather" again. The glass" fell rapidly, and the ever careful
captain quickly shortened sail," and made all snug aloft, for the im-
pending tempest.
That night the indications of something more than an ordinary gale
of wind became so unmistakable, that the captain issued orders that
the top gallant masts should be sent down on deck. When this
manoeuvre was carried out the top sails were close-reefed, the guns
secured with extra breechings and lashings, while the boats and spars were
all made safe, and every precaution taken to guard against accident
below and aloft. None too soon was the captain's foresight and judg-
ment thus properly exercised, for hardly were the men down from aloft,
where they were taking the second reef in the foresail, than the storm
burst upon us in all its fury. In the first shock the ship was thrown
almost upon her beam-ends; but she quickly righted herself and flew
along before the wind. Subsequently the Minnow was "laid to," for
the tempest had increased so rapidly that the commander had fears she
might be "pooped by the heavy sea which roared after the vessel, and
chased her as she flew before the gale like a thousand furies bent upon
our destruction. The pumps had to be kept constantly going, and still
the water gained upon us. Slowly but steadily, inch by inch, and foot
by foot, we were beaten back by the unstable element. The sailors, all
"good men and true," worked with a pluck and energy admirable to
behold. It was sad that it was to be all to no purpose About two in
the morning the ship began to roll very heavily-it seemed as if she
"would never recover in some of her lee-lurches; at length a mountainous
sea gathered ahead, and came bearing down upon the devoted craft like
a charge of cavalry on a battle-field; the white crests of the horses were
flung high into the air as the fierce storm swept over them with resist-
less fury. The little brig, burdened with four feet of water in her hold,
could not rise quickly enough to meet the powerful enemy which was
menacing her destruction.
There was a cry from the first lieutenant and commander, who were
both on deck at the time, to hold on," when the black surging mass,



with a roar, like an avalanche when overwhelming an Alpine village,
burst upon our decks. The fore-mast snapped close to the deck like a
carrot, and, tearing away the "channels," the whole mingled debris of
spars, sails, with "standing" and "running" gear, were carried in a
confused mass over the side. The sea made a clean sweep over the decks
also, and some thirty men were hurried into eternity in almost a shorter
time than I have taken to narrate it. Those seamen who had saved
themselves by clinging to the main rigging, or springing up above the
reach of the wave, now inspired by the example of all the officers, seized
hatchets, capstan-bars, or anything they could lay their hands on, and,
with vigorous blows, smashed open the ports and bulwarks, so as to
release the floods of water which here nearly knee-deep were rushing
down below in torrents, filling the lower decks and holds. All the
officers and sailors of the watch below came crowding up to see what
was the matter, for we thought the ship was about to go down bodily.
Every man there strove to render assistance at this critical moment.
There were no faint hearts or craven spirits on. board H.M.S. Minnow.
All worked with a will, and the decks, which presented a complete scene
of devastation, were soon cleared of the superincumbent mass of water.
The binnacle, skylights, everything movable, in fact, had been carried off
in the greedy maw of the ocean, and the brig presented the appearance of
a wreck. To relieve her in her heavy rolls, the gun-lashings were cut
away, and the bright row of frowning cannon, the pride of the respective
gun's crews, "the old girl's teeth," as they affectionately called them,
were all consigned to Davy Jones's locker."
When we had pitched them overboard, the ship seemed to be sensibly
relieved; but it was only for a time. The heavy straining which the
timbers-and, in fact, the whole frame of the ship had undergone,
seemed to have shaken her considerably; she leaked all over like a
sieve, and the old and honourable wounds she had gained in conflicts
with more material but less formidable enemies; the shot-holes to wit
-which had been "plugged" and caulked, whereas they should have
unfitted the ship altogether for further service-now began to work open.
The water ran into the hold faster than ever, and our chance of weather-
ing this typhoon-for it was nothing less-became small indeed. My
thoughts recurred with bitter regret to my happy home, which I should
see no more, and when too late I cursed my folly for not listening to the
advice of my parents and kind friends. How it all ended my readers
shall learn in the next chapter.

(To be continued.)


o to i rmahe a gicaitoQt for a tnur ;




HE first thing to do is to procure a pennyworth of the
little hollow glass balls, with stems to them, used by
artificial flower makers to imitate currants and grapes.
You may buy them at any artificial florists' material
makers, of whom there are several in Coppice Row,
Clerkenwell. It will be as well for you to take a little box with you,
filled with cotton wool, in order to prevent them being broken, for I
must warn you that they are extremely fragile articles and require the
greatest care in handling.
Having succeeded in getting them home safely, without sitting on
them or otherwise interfering with their spherical shape, you must
examine them carefully in a good light, and pick out the one that is
most free from scratches, specks, and bubbles, and fill it with clean
boiled water. This, at first sight, seems almost impossible, owing to the
slenderness of the stem communicating with the bulb; but, by taking
advantage of one or two natural laws, we may fill the little sphere with
the greatest ease and certainty.
We must first make a temporary handle for our little globule. Take
a piece of smooth firewood and cut from it a flat stick about as thick as a
lucifer match and three or four times as broad. Cut a slit down the
middle of the flat side and insert in it the stem of the little globule,
which will be held firmly by the natural spring of the wood.
We next require a candle or a lamp and a cup of perfectly clean
recently boiled water.
Hold the globule stem upwards about three inches above the candle,
until it is just hot enough to be held against the back of the hand with-
out inconvenience. Without delay plunge it stem downwards into the
cup of water and hold it there for a few seconds. On lifting it out you




will find that, owing to the expanded warm air inside of the globule
having shrunk by immersion in the cold water, a small quantity of that
liquid has entered the interior. Remove the globule from the cleft
stick and wipe it perfectly dry. Re-insert it in its handle, and hold it
once more over the candle until the water boils and sends forth a tiny
jet of steam from the stem. You must now plunge it once more into
the cold water, when, if the water was boiling, you will find that the
little apparatus becomes completely filled as it cools. If a portion of air
still remain in the globe repeat the boiling and plunging into the cold
water. If you are anything of a glass-blower and know how to use the
blow-pipe, you may seal the end of the stem by melting the glass; but if
you are not possessed of these useful accomplishments, you must fill up
the end with a morsel of bees'-wax or paraffin candle, so as to fill up
the little tube and prevent the water from leaking out. A touch of
sealing-wax at the end of the stem will help to make all safe and water-
tight. It is not necessary that the bulb and stem should be absolutely
full of water; a bubble of air the size of a pin's head, but not larger,
will not materially interfere with the success of the operation.
It may be, perhaps, as well to mention that if you do not live near
Clerkenwell, you can purchase arsenic tubes for a penny a-piece at
Griffn's in Garrick Street, Covent Garden; How's in Foster Lane,
Cheapside; or Jackson & Townson's in Bishopsgate Street; or at any
operative chemists in a country town, which will answer the purpose
quite as well.
The next operation is to fit a holder to our little lens-for such it is
now that it is filled with water.
You must beg from the butler or from mamma, if you do not keep so
expensive an adjunct to your household, a round, smooth, soft wine-
"bottle cork, and cut off from the best end a piece the least shade larger
than the diameter of your little lens. Your knife must be very sharp,
and your eye very true, to do this properly, as there is always great
danger of cutting the cork crooked. The two flat faces of the cork
should be quite parallel, otherwise the image formed by the lens will be
blurred and indistinct. The best way of insuring this is to nick or
pencil a line round the cork, which is equidistant from one of its flat
You must next bore a hole through the centre of your little cork
cylinder, so as to transform it into a tube. Here, again, steadiness of
hand and truth of eye will be required. The best way is to commence
the hole with a red-hot wire, and then enlarge it with a penknife, whose
diameter is a little less than that of the lens. If you have such a thing


by you as an old magnum bonum pen, an ordinary penholder, or even
a metal tube somewhat smaller than the little globe, you can sharpen
their edges on a hone, and use them as a punch. The cork should be
placed flat on the table, and the punch used exactly like a gimlet, taking
care that it cuts its way at right angles to the surface.
I have dwelt at some length on the preparation of the cork tube, be-
cause on its exactitude of form depends the whole worth of the microscope.
Having made the cork cylinder to your liking, enlarge the hole at one
end, and cut a slit in the flat portion to admit the stem of the lens; so
that the surface of the globe is almost, but not quite, level with the
other flat surface of the cork. Figs. 1 to 4 will illustrate this better
than half a page of description.
Having fitted the lens nicely into the cork, it remains to blacken the
former, so as to destroy what opticians call "false light," which would
have the effect of blurring the image. Take a cake of Indian ink, or
lamp black, and rub it on a plate, with a few drops of water, until you
can rub off no more. Add to this a drop of thick gum and as much
sugar as will fit on the top of a penknife, to prevent the gum from
cracking. Mix them all up together, and paint the lens and its stem
all over, with the exception of two circles, which must be exactly
opposite each other. Figs. 5 and 6 represent the front and side view
of the lens after having been painted. When quite dry, insert the
lens in its place, as shown in Fig. 4, and fix it in its position by a
slight touch of gum here and there. A neat slip of cork should also
be gummed into the slit formed for the insertion of the stem.
By the way, if you have no Indian ink, or lamp black, you may
manufacture some extemporaneously by smoking a plate over a candle or
lamp, and mixing the black up with gum and sugar as before. A gas
flame gives the finest deposit.
We must now fit the lens-holder with diaphragms, back and front.
Cut from a thin visiting card two circles the exact size of the ends of the
lens-holder, and cut out from their centres neat holes about the size of a
small pea; paint them black, and gum them securely on each end of
the lens-holder. If you know a friendly saddler or shoemaker, you had
better ask him to punch out these holes for you, as it is somewhat
difficult to cut out so small a hole with exactitude. The card diaphragms
should almost, but not quite, touch the surface of the lens. If you have
worked the flat surfaces and the central hole truly, you will find that the
holes in the diaphragms are exactly opposite to each other.
If you happen to have access to a lathe, and have profited by Mr.
Temple Thorold's excellent instructions in last year's BOY's MAGAZINE,



you will find yourself saved an immense deal of trouble by turning the
lens-holder out of wood.
Having finished the lens-holder and fixed the lens and diaphragms
in their places, we must next form a little paper tube to slide on the lens-
holder and hold the slip of glass upon which the object is placed for obser-
vation. Take the piece of cork remaining after cutting off the lens-holder,
and form upon it a little paper tube, about the eighth of an inch shorter
than the lens-holder, by gumming round it a long slip of paper, until
you have seven or eight turns. Of course the first round is not to be
gummed, otherwise it would stick to the cork. You must take care to
wrap the paper round pretty tightly, otherwise the gum will not stick.
When quite dry, remove it from the cork, which may be cut out, if
necessary, being of no further use. If the tube is too small to fit the
lens-holder somewhat tightly, put a pencil through it, and roll it on a
flat surface until it is sufficiently expanded. If, on the contrary, it fits
too loosely, you must gum a slip of paper round the lens-holder.
Having made it fit to your satisfaction, trim the edges carefully,
if necessary, so that they are quite square and neat.
Before proceeding any farther, it will be necessary for you to deter-
mine the thickness of the glass-slides you intend using.
Go to a glazier and ask him to pick out for you the thinnest pieces of
glass he has amongst his waste. From these get him to cut you a
number of lengths exactly a quarter of an inch in width. When you
get these home, you can easily break them up yourself into pieces an
inch and a half long, by simply scratching them at opposite edges with
an old file, or even a sharp flint, and snapping them quickly across. A
few will possibly not break evenly; but you are sure to succeed, if you
only make your notches deep enough.
Take the little pasteboard tube, and at about the eighth of an inch
from one end cut two slits exactly opposite to each other, slightly more
than a quarter of an inch in length, and in breadth equal to the thick-
ness of two of the slips of glass. The intention of the object-holder is
to slide the object backwards and forwards before the lens, so as to be
able to adjust the focus. It may help you a great deal if you know
that the focus of a globe filled with water, is as nearly as possible half
its diameter. Thus, if the globe is half an inch in diameter, distinct
vision will be obtained when the object is held at about a quarter of an
inch from the surface of the lens. Fig. 7 represents the object-holder
fixed in its position.
You have now a little microscope which magnifies objects 25 or 30
diameters; that is to say, it causes them to appear 25 or 30 times their



natural length and breadth. It will not, of course, show you objects
such as you would be able to see with an instrument costing ten or a dozen
shillings; but it will enable you to observe a vast number of interesting
and instructive facts that cannot fail to please you and reward you for
the labour and pains you have bestowed on your little apparatus.
The preparation of the objects is a comparatively simple matter; the
principal difficulty being to know what to look at. Let us take for
example the dust from a moth's wing.
Having assured yourself that the insect is dead-forunnecessary cruelty
to any of God's creatures is unmanly and cowardly-blow off any dust
that may have fallen on the wings, and gently touch one of them with a
clean, dry finger. Transfer the dust adhering to it to the middle of one of
your glass slides, and cover it immediately with another. Holding the two
slips of glass firmly together between your finger and thumb, cover the
edges all round with sealing-wax. When the wax is cold, it may be
smoothed down neatly with a hot knife; any that has run over on the
surface of the slide being cleaned off with a sharp pen-knife, when it is
quite cold.
Before sealing up the slides you should place between them a little
square or round label cut out of thin paper, with a number inscribed
upon it corresponding to another attached to a descriptive list kept in a
book. Except you can write very neatly, you will hardly be able to
attach a description to your slides; the labels being too small for any-
thing but a number. Place the slide in the object-holder, so that the
object is exactly opposite the hole in the diaphragm, and hold the whole
apparatus up to the light. Gently slide the object-holder backwards
and forwards until distinct vision is obtained. You will find the object
a most interesting one. A mass of broad, flat scales will meet your eye,
possibly notched at the top, or strongly ribbed,,oval like a battledoor, or
square with the corners rounded off, but always with a strong, stumpy
quill at one end which fits into a corresponding hole in the substance of
the wing, just as the feather fits into a hole in the bird's skin, or your
own hair fits into your own head. A well-lighted white cloud is the
best illumination for the microscope; but of course that cannot always
be obtained at a moment's notice. The sky, a lamp, or even a candle,
can be all used for the purpose. Whatever the illuminating medium is,
the microscope, as a rule, should be so held as to face the middle of the
source of light. When using a candle or lamp, the observer should sit
a yard or two off. A few experiments, however, will soon practically
teach the young observer lessons that it would take pages to write.
It is hardly necessary to say that the microscope, when not in use,


should be kept in a box or drawer that is dust tight. If the surfaces of
the lens become soiled or dusty, they should be cleaned with a camel's
hair pencil. The whole apparatus will look much neater, if the cork
cylinder, as well as the object-holder, be painted black.

/ 1 f, 2I, /7 / '


The objects to be looked at are really so numerous that I can only
give you the barest description of a few of them, leaving you yourselves
to find out those indicated by the scanty list with which I am going to
"furnish you.
Taking the mineral kingdom first you will find that sal-ammoniac,
blue-stone, nitre, and several salts, form very pretty objects, when
crystallized on a slide. A weak solution of the salt should be made-say
a piece the size of a pea to three or four teaspoonfuls of water. The
slide having been warmed, a drop of the solution is placed on it, and the
whole is put away in a warm corner until crystallization has taken
place. You then examine the slide in the microscope to see if the expe-
riment has succeeded; if it has you cover it immediately with another
slide, taking great care not to crush the crystals.
The animal kingdom affords an almost inexhaustible supply of objects.
The hair of the head and beard, hair from caterpillars, bees, crabs,
and spiders, are all beautiful objects. If you examine some very coarse
wool.you will find its surface covered with slight projections, while that
of human hair is comparatively smooth.



The scales 'of fish-especially those of the sole, eel, and perch-are
very interesting objects, being corrugated in beautiful patterns. The
wings of flies, bees, wasps, &c., will form a study in themselves. If you
have made your microscope carefully, you will be able to see that their
transparent portion is covered with minute hairs. Notice, also, that
the arrangement of the ribs is different in every species.
The vegetable kingdom is also unfailing in its supply of objects.
Thin slices of rush, cork, wood of various kinds, cut both with the
grain and against it, will teach you much respecting the structure of
'plants. Cooked rhubarb or tea-leaves, well pulled to pieces with a
couple of needles, will show you-sometimes after a long search-those
very curious spiral vessels that exist in different parts of plants.
A scarlet geranium petal with the lower surface torn off, will show
you the arrangement of colour-cells in flowers. If you double a petal
in two, and examine the folded edge, you will see that the colour-cells
form tiny mountains on the surface, giving it that peculiar velvety
appearance that man tries in vain to imitate.
The little instrument is hardly powerful enough to show the ultimate
structure of the pollen grains of flowers; but a close examination will
soon prove to you that they are not shapeless masses. The hairs of
different plants are also great pets of the microscopist.
The scum from the bottom of stagnant ponds and ditches contains a
vast number of living beings that are quite bewildering in their variety.
You may manufacture quite a miniature menagerie for yourself, by sus-
pending a few pieces of almost any vegetable matter in water until a
scum is seen on the surface.
In conclusion, let me remind you that there are four cardinal
virtues which every microscopist must possess, and without which no
one can expect to become more than a clumsy dabbler. They are
patience, neatness, cleanliness, and intelligence.
You should accustom yourself, from the very first, to take notes of
everything you see. You should also practise drawing. You will find
that most objects visible through your little microscope are very
simple in structure, and may be sketched and coloured with great
accuracy after a few days' practice. Every microscopist works as much
with his pencil as with his microscope, and by beginning early,
you will acquire habits of dexterity and observation that will soon
entitle you to possess an instrument of very much greater power and
value than, your little PENNY MICROSCOPE.

$e Mavt5 an tit mr M|irob ;



Ig NN the mythology of every land, the innate curiosity of the'
Human mind betrays itself. Whether we take the
Ancient tales of Greece or Rome; whether we decipher
the hieroglyphs of Egypt; whether we revel in the
fanciful romances of the glowing East, or are enchained
by the stern, yet not less poetical legends of the frozen North: we find
that the prominent idea is the insatiable desire of possessing hidden
knowledge. In some few instances this ruling passion aspires to the
spirit of prophecy, but in nearly every case is contented with its present
sphere, and only seeks for a more extended knowledge of the material
universe, its riches and its capabilities.
Sometimes the fortunate hero is enabled to soar through the air ; he
ascends to the skies, and learns the secrets of the stars. Sometimes he
penetrates to the central chambers of the world, anoints his eyes with
magic salve, and the treasures of earth are unveiled to his cleansed
vision. Sometimes he enters into alliance with the semi-spiritual
beings that people the elements, and becomes a temporary partaker of
their privileges. Perhaps the deities of the sea claim affinity with him,
and carry him down into the ocean depths; where, with the nobles of
the sea and their attendant Nereids, he held strange festivals in sub-
marine palaces. Perhaps the Naiads of the river became enamoured of
him, decoyed him beneath the waves which they ruled, and kept him a
very willing prisoner in their mysterious home, enchained by their
beauty, and forgetful of his earthly love.
In imagination we follow their adventures, speed our course through
the sky, sink into the earth, or traverse the waters, and picture to our-
selves the wonders which such privileges would reveal to us. Specially


does imagination revel in the depths of ocean, and disport itself among the
caves of ocean, paved with gems and pearls, hung with living tapestries
of sponge and seaweed, and peopled with strange, weird, shapes, that
crawled upon its sides, or bright glittering fishes, that darted through
its portals.

Methought, I saw a thousand fearful wrecks;
A thousand men that fishes gnaw'd upon;
Wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pearl,
Inestimable stones, unvalued jewels,
All scattered in the bottom of the sea."

Thanks to modern inventions, many of these hidden wonders are now
disclosed, and the curious inquirer can see these beings without the
assistance of either Nereid or Naiad. Some of these wonders will be
described in the following pages, and those who will endeavour to search
for themselves will find that not even the vivid pages of fairy lore
could picture beings of stranger aspect, or endow them with more
singular power, than may be seen in a few gallons of water while we
sit at ease in our own rooms. We need not take the trouble to
descend in a diving-bell, nor fit on our head the diver's enormous
helmet; for we can find in a small vessel of salt or fresh water enough
to give us occupation for many a long year, and to disclose to us many
of the secrets of nature. In the following pages I shall endeavour to
show how anyone can penetrate into the wonders of the deep, and can,
in the seclusion of his own room, study the manners and customs of the
inhabitants of the waters.
The history of aquaria is quite recent, but in the few years of its
existence it displays many of the characteristics of more important his-
tories, and has its origin, its rise, its decadence, and its renovation.
,Some years ago, a complete aquarium mania ran through the country.
Every one must needs have an aquarium, either of sea or fresh water,
the former being preferred.
There were grand etymological discourses in the learned papers respect-
ing the correct name which ought to be given to it. Some called it viva-
rium, but were met by objectors who said the Zoological Garden was
equally a vivarium, and so was a dog-kennel or a stable. In order to
meet the difficulty, they proposed the word aqua-vivarium-a word
which certainly had the advantage of being correct, but the disadvantage
.of being complicated. Then came others who preferred the name
aquarium, and straightway this name was adopted by common consent.
It is true that exact linguists rejected the word, citing the Latin dic-


tionary, which states that aquarius was either a water-bailiff, a water-
man, or "the man who carries the watering-pot" in the Zodiac. Still
aquarium is a simple and easy word, and entirely superseded aqua-viva-
rium, just as in a later year the word telegram superseded telegrapheme.
The fashionable lady had magnificent plate-glass aquaria in her
drawing-room, and the schoolboy managed to keep an aquarium of lesser
pretensions in his study. The odd corners of newspapers were filled
with notes on aquaria, and a multitude of shops were opened for the
simple purpose of supplying aquaria and their contents. The feeling,
however, was like a hothouse plant, very luxuriant under artificial con-
ditions, but failing when deprived of external assistance.
Perhaps the beautiful plate-glass aquarium fell to pieces, dis-
charged several gallons of sea-water over the fashionable carpet, and
covered the fashionable furniture with sea-anemones, crabs, prawns, and
other inhabitants of the waters. Or some of the inmates died, and the
owner was too careless to remove them. Consequently they were left
in the holes to which they had retreated, and in a few days they avenged
themselves for the neglect by rendering the water so fetid that no one
with ordinary sensibility could remain in the room. The schoolboy was
very careful of his aquarium for a time, but in a month or two became
tired of the constant attention required for its maintenance, and so gave
it up.
So, in due course of time, nine out of every ten aquaria were aban-
doned; many of the shops were given up, because there was no longer
any custom; and to all appearance the aquarium fever had run its
course never again to appear, like hundreds of similar epidemics.
But there was one element of strength in the aquarium possessed by
none of the others. This was the study of Nature in one of her hitherto
unstudied phases. Those who merely treated the aquarium as a toy
soon became tired of it and cast it away accordingly, but those who saw
its real capability became more enamoured of it daily. Now, there-
fore, the number of aquaria is not nearly so great as was the case
some years ago, but those that are in active existence are properly
tended, and the teachings carefully learned. As I hope that many of
my readers will desire to establish and to maintain aquaria, both of
fresh and salt water, I will give a few hints as to the stocking and
managing them.
Now, in the first place, the very name of AQUARIUM terrifies many,
especially those who are unversed in its easily-solved mysteries. The
very name seems somewhat pretentious, and the popular idea of the
aquarium is quite consonant with such an idea. The word aquarium



suggests an expensive structure of plate glass, shining metal, and elaborate
rockwork, tenanted with rare- actinise, strangely-shaped crustacea, and
gorgeous fishes, and decorated with seaweed of light green, dark purple,
and rich scarlet.
Of course, it is perfectly possible to have such structures, and to fill
them with such inhabitants; but for all practical purposes there is not
the least necessity for either the elaborate vessel or the costly inmate.
After an experience of some twelve years, I am disposed to multiply
the vessels rather than to expend money in animals ; and have found that
the simpler a vessel can be, the better it is for an aquarium, provided it
fulfils certain conditions.
There are two forms of vessels which are generally offered to the
public, and both of them are about as bad as bad can be. The one is a
deep, oblong vessel made of plate-glass, with a metal bed and metal
framework. Set a pack of playing-cards on its edge, and there is the
precise shape of the aquarium generally sold in ordinary shops. This
being rather expensive, many persons demur at its price, and are then
offered the ordinary gold-fish globe, or an improvement thereon-a
vessel that looks like a glass-bell standing on its head, and fixed into a
wooden pedestal. I shall now proceed to show why these forms are
entirely wrong; and then describe a variety of shapes which are well
adapted to the purpose, and which are equally easy to be obtained and
cheaply to be purchased.
In the first place, all glass-vessels have one radical error: they admit
too much light; and, as a general rule, the creatures which inhabit the
water are not loving of light. Many of them lurk unseen in holes, or
under stones, or among roots; and even those which do show themselves
boldly are always glad of darkened places of refuge, whereto they can
fly when alarmed. Vessels wholly made of glass afford no such
privileges, and therefore the inhabitants are often sadly inconvenienced,
and in many cases die, Isimply because they are worn out by want
of repose.
Moreover, as if the poor animals were not sufficiently worried, the
aquarium is often put on a table or stand, and placed exactly in front
of a window, so as to have as much light as possible upon it, and to have
the water warmed by the direct rays of the sun, until the miserable inmates
are half-killed with the heat and totally dazzled by the light. Such an
excess of light is injurious in another sense, especially in marine aquaria,
because it encourages the growth of conferva and seaweed to such an extent
that they become a positive nuisance, instead of a useful accessory.
The form of the ordinary-shaped tanks is quite wrong. They



certainly hold a large quantity of water, and therefore are thought fit
to contain a large number of inmates. But it must be remembered that
fishes, and other inhabitants of the waves, exhaust the water by their
respiration quite'as much as we exhaust air.
If you put a quantity of fishes into a small and deep vessel full of water,
some will die in a very short time, and only a few hours will elapse
before all will have perished. It is therefore as absolutely necessary
that the abstracted oxygen should be restored to the exhausted water,
as that the atmosphere of a crowded room should be replenished with
fresh air. In consequence of this necessity, various plans for aeration
were employed by aquarium-keepers. Ingenious pumps were attached
to the tanks, by means of which streams of air were forced through the
water. Some persons employed syringes, filled them with water, and
squirted the water into the tank with such force as to carry a quantity
of air among the inhabitants of the aquarium. Others were content
with taking up some of the water and letting it fall back with a splash,
so as to produce the same result.
Now all these proceedings were absolutely necessary, on account of
the shape of the tank, and the stillness of the water. Many marine
creatures, such as certain crustacea, molluscs, and sea-anemones, live
close to the shore, and are accustomed, not only to be left dry during
extreme low water, but to have the spray dashing about them twice a
day, as the advancing tide breaks over the rocks or sand. But the very
form of the common oblong tank opposes itself to both those conditions.
It is so deep that a perfect stillness reigns, and presents so small a
surface to the air that there is no chance of oxygenizing the water
except by artificial means. Water absorbs the oxygen of the air with
wonderful rapidity, and if a sufficient surface be exposed, it will absorb
enough to supply the wants of respiration for a goodly number of
inhabitants. Were it not for this fact, the fishes in a pond would soon
die for want of oxygen.
It will now be seen that an aquarium which is to fulfil, as far as
possible, the same conditions as the river, the pond, or the sea, ought to
be as wide as possible, so as to present a large superficies of water to the
air. Moreover, it must not be made of a transparent material, such as
glass, but its sides ought to be opaque, except in front; and the front
should not be turned towards the window. Should the reader happen
to possess one of these ordinary tanks, he can vastly improve it by
covering the back and the ends with thick pasteboard, so that the light
is shut out, and the pasteboard can easily be removed for the purpose of
inspecting the interior of the tank.



But there is no need whatever for a complicated glass-tank, which is
so deep that the owner finds great difficulty in getting at the various
objects, and is too heavy to be moved, and occasionally apt to worry its
owner by a sudden disposition to leak. Any kind of tub or pan will do
for an aquarium, provided that the owner cares more for the inmates
than the appearance of their dwelling. I have now at my side a
common earthenware pan, eighteen inches wide, and three deep, in
which are flourishing half a dozen sea-anemones, two kinds of seaweed,
and a number of purpura and other common shells.
A crab lived in it for a considerable time, and would probably have
been alive now but for a singular misfortune. One evening, before the
lamps were lighted, I was coming up the stairs to my room. It is
situated at the top of the house, and upon the third stair from the front
door I trod upon something, and crushed it. On bringing a light and
looking to see what strange object could have been on the stairs, I was
equally surprised and sorry to find that it was my little crab. It was
all but dead, and recovery was hopeless. The fact was that I had for-
gotten to cover the pan, and the crab must have clambered up the side
and, hitching itself on one of the shells, got out of the pan and traversed
the room. But how the creature contrived to get out at the door of my
room, and make its way down two flights of stairs and along a landing,
is a mystery which I cannot solve.
I was the more sorry because the creature had learned to overcome its
first dread of a human being, and, instead of scuttling under a stone when
I approached, remained quite unconcernedly on the top of an ulva-
covered flint, or crawled leisurely over the bottom of the pan. At first
it was sadly discomfited at its inability to burrow; the yellow colour of
the pan evidently giving it the idea that it was upon its accustomed
sand; but it soon gave up the attempt, and seemed quite reconciled to
its prison.
In this primitive tank there are some flints, with a little ulva and
enteromorpha adhering to them. I had some with specimens of the
ocean barnacle; but as the creatures declined to live, the stones were
removed. As to the anemones, they have chosen to fix themselves so
tightly in an old pomade pot in which they were conveyed to my house,
that I have not disturbed them.
Of course, in a vessel of this kind, the loss of water by evaporation is
very rapid, and must be repaired by constant supplies of fresh water.
There is not the least difficulty in adding the needful water, nor need it
be distilled, as is stated by some aquarium-keepers. I simply use soft
water, taking care that it is clear, and pour it into the pan without any



precaution. I do not pour it upon the anemones, because the fresh water
might fill the jar in which they have stationed themselves, and so
damage them seriously. Otherwise, I just pour in the water, and let it
mix itself as it likes, without stirring it or doing anything to disturb
the inmates.
Once or twice, when I have been away from home for a day or two,
the evaporation has been equal to nearly one third of its amount, and
the remaining fluid formed, in consequence, an exceedingly concentrated
solution of marine salts. The inhabitants did not like the state of
things at all. The shells were all out of the water, and the anemones
much contracted, although the tips of their tentacles protruded. When
the fresh water was added, they withdrew the tentacles entirely, and made
themselves as flat as they could; but in an hour they had recovered
themselves, and were waving their long tentacles in all their beauty.
If the young observer is lodging at the sea-side, let me advise him to
set up-not one large aquarium, but a series of pans, previously taking
care to propitiate the landlady, who is sure to offer very forcible objec-
tions to such articles. Get a glazier to cut glass-covers for your pans, or
the inmates will escape, and the pans be filled with dust.
"We will now proceed to a short description of the various vegetable
and animal inhabitants of an aquarium, and will begin with the simplest,
namely the Seaweed.
There are many species of seaweed, which are either pretty in colour,
graceful in form, or imposing in appearance, which can never be kept in
an aquarium. Not only will they die with great rapidity, but they cause
an ugly appearance in the tank, giving out slime and other unpleasant
substances, and often producing an odour peculiarly abominable, which
cannot be easily described, but which, when once smelt, is never for-
As a general rule, the young aquarium-keeper may reject almost
every seaweed that he finds, and to this rule there are but a very few
exceptions. He may think it rather hard to be obliged to do so,
because some of them, especially those belonging to the red division,
are so pretty that they are for a time extremely ornamental, while
others are so elegant or so curious in shape that it is, at first, very hard to
resist the temptation of placing them in the tank. Such, for example, is
the Delesseria, whose fronds may often be found on the shore after a gale,
having been torn from their attachments by the waves. It is so elegant in
shape, and so lovely in colour, that even an experienced aquarium-
keeper can seldom pass it, as it lies on the shore, without picking it up
and admiring its exquisite fronds, so delicate in structure, and so leaf-



like in form. Nothing looks better in an aquarium for a day or two,
Sbut then its beauty fades, the frond becomes paler in spots, then is
ragged at the edge, and finally breaks up into fragments. So it is with
the curious corallines, with their strange chalky skeleton; and so it is
with the whole of the red seaweeds, in spite of their enticing beauty.
As to the brown varieties, many of them 'are so large that they could
not be placed in any ordinary tank, but there are some which are small
enough to find space, and curious enough to induce a beginner to place
them in the aquarium. Such, for example, is the strange-looking
Pavonia, whose fan-like fronds, with their regular dark bands, are not
very frequently found on our coasts, except those of the extreme south.
Some years ago, however, I observed a large colony of the Padina
growing upon a ridge of rocks running seaward from Foreness Point, at
Margate. Every visitor to this place
S fl knows the rocks, dark with their
heavy covering of seaweeds, that pro-
S ject into the sea, and are left bare
at low water. Through these rocks
run, at various intervals, certain
channels which are free from the
bladder-wrack, and other large algSe,
with which the rocks are so thickly
clothed, and which serve to conduct
theaters of the receding tide back
to the sea.
One day, at very low tide, when wading along one of these channels,
I saw a long ridge of some kind of alge, different from those species
which were most prevalent, but, owing to the ripple caused by a sharp
breeze, could not discover what it was. On gathering it I was surprised
to find that it was the Padina pavonia itself, just the very last species I
should have expected to find at Margate. One might hope to discover
many of the more hardy species, but to find an alga which is mostly
confined to the extreme south, off the Margate shore, which lies open to
the north wind and gets the full benefit of it, was a circumstance which
could hardly be expected.

(To be continued.)


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rmq hozt,
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tn3 njn,
Mhk tn3 sxx3 f3nmqi tnmenk


Mzmoh qtn



Xh ib3ipn
am ok,


rtnh Pxen,

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Oh 53xpo2 qsx32 3ozti an33opj.

Lic inuise sl
Hs ysswlck

sslng hyyl

ss Mhgiss



M innis hyy dych, 'icy cccp dhp dci,
M Nssltc hyyl hmcs hrclnle cicicy,
Rciilwocm !
I am a word of nine letters.
My 9, 2, and 4 is a river in Scot-
land ;

My 6,


8, and 9 is part of the

human frame;
And my whole is a town of Scot-

5. Why
bread ?

is the


like good

To every one who goes a distance,
I'm found of very great assistance;
Cut off my head, you'll find, no
We're friends to those who walk
about ;

.Once more


and if you

I can be served in shape of fish;
Transpose 'twill be an easy task,
To find me in a good wine cask.

7. What are the two most diffi-
cult surgical operations that can
be performed ?
8. Why is a prudent man like a
pin ?
9. What sort of soldier would
be best for a night attack ?
10. When is a curtain not a
curtain ?
11. Why is a blind man like a
newspaper ?
12. Why should there be more
marriages in winter?
13. What sort of a day would
be a good one to run for a cup ?
14. When does an M.P. display
most physical strength ?
15. My first lives in my whole,
which is composed of my second.

16. My first is found in
second and also in my whole.


17. My first and second are use-
ful articles, and my whole an
English town.


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1. An article for holding water.
2. Another name for beer.
3. Used by ladies.
4. Another name for paper.
5. To lounge.
6. A girl's name.
My initials and finals form two
useful articles.
1. A deformity.
2. A town in Russia.
3. A lake in Africa.
4. A town in Scotland.
5. To throw.
6. A girl's name.
7. To lounge.
8. A town in Greece.
9. A town in North America.
10. A. Scottish hero.
My initials read downwards name
a poet, and the finals one of his
1. Poison.
2. What we see with.
3. To part with, for a price.
4. A gulf in Columbia.
5. A Roman coin.
6. A pronoun (reversed).
7. A river, near which a battle
was fought.
8. A space of land.
9. A boy's name (reversed).
My initials read downwards, and
finals upwards, will give a Roman
Emperor and a city he conquered.
1. A country.
2. A Jewish doctor.
3. A part of a cow.
4. A ball for a gun.
5. A Grecian tragic poet.
6. An ancient father of the
Church (curtailed).
7. A very large island.
My initials read downwards, and
finals upwards, will give the names
of two large countries.

1. A
2. ?
3. A
4. I
a cow.
5. i
6. B
7. N
8. N
9. 1






7 is a vehicle.
7, 8 is a market.
11 is a fowl.
10, 2, 5 is given by

6, 5 is an animal.
9, 10, 11 is an adverb.
, 3, 8 is a noun.
6, 8 is an animal.
2, 8 is at most doors.

My whole, a word of 11 letters,
is a place in Wales.
My first was used in ancient
My second is part of a plant.
My whole is a nutritive medi-
cinal food.
My whole is an auxiliary verb;
behead me, and I am a part of a
house; again, and I am an in-
definite adjective pronoun.
My first is a boy's name.
My second is bitter.
My whole is a province in India.
My first is a vehicle.
My second is not high.
My whole is a town in Ireland.
My first by country folk is seen,
In ditches, fields, and meadows
For three parts of the year ;
My second you will find in Kent,
Or down at Burton-upon-Trent,
Where Allsops brew their beer;
My third is three-fourths of a land,
Whose mines are rich in silver
On mountain tops so drear.
My whole's an insect you may see
Full robed in pea-green livery.



1. A city of England of ancient
2. A city abroad by an earthquake
thrown down;
3. A department of France and a
river beside;
4. A beautiful woman who .was
Iphis's bride ;
5. What travellers take on the
banks of the Rhine :
6. A promise oft made to the
spirit divine;
7. A power now used to make the
news fly;
8. A medicine that makes one's
face all awry;
9. A town on the Mediterranean
10. A country whose slaves were
lately set free;
11. A city of France, where oft
died her kings ;
12. The name of the horse that
was furnished with wings;
13. A bird that will hunt for mice
like a puss;
14. A cook lately slain by the
hand of a Pruss;
15. A liquid now found in wells
under ground;
16. A shape that is neither square,
long, or round;
17. A river whose waters would
make one forget;
18. A substance for traps to take
birds is oft set.
The initials-and finals to you will
show forth
Two large mercantile ports in the
north ;
'Twill make it more easy, and give
you less trouble,
To know the initials and finals are


Cool chat.
I hit no seat.
A tin loan.

1. 5, Pa.-Three-fifths of steam.
2. 551, an opera.-A Turkish
3. 100, Aunt Kent.-An island
of North America.
4. 1000, as great.-An English
5. 500, or ney.-An adverb.
6. 1101, poop non.-A silly
7. 1051, O T are.-A Turkish
8. 51, Hue.-A friend of Job.
9. 1150, rake E.-A kind of fish.
10. 150, bake wart.-An Irish
11. 152, U heer. A noted
French minister.
12. 1001, A bad an.-A son of
13. 106, as hen.-A town in
14. 1051, none A.-A flower.
15. 1000, a shot.-A man's
The initials and finals, read
downwards, will name two noted
Dutch painters.

1. A prison.
2. A river in S. America.
3. The god of Marriage.
4. An historian (reversed).
5. An agricultural portion of
land (reversed).
6. Anger.
7. To hush.
8. The whole.
9. A river in South America.
10. Not old.
My initials and finals read down-
wards will name two celebrated


A trap gone.
Se I can grin.
Red coate.




1. 1151, Ha, E. -A man's
2. 1050, Ba-a-a-a.-A state in
North America.
3. 1000, Harp not to N.-An
English county.
4. 701, Re.-A Saxon leader.
5. 500, R. hay.-An island near
6. 1000, paste E.--A Swiss

7. 200, shone best.-A town in
Cape Colony.
8. 52, port.-A state of Barbary.
9. 10, tree E. -An English
10. 650, O hear.--An English
The initials will name a manu-
facturing town, and the finals the
county it is in.

1. To pass by sea.
2. To bend on the knee.
3. A personal pronoun.
4. A ray of light (beheaded).
My initials and finals (read up-
wards) will give two of the Hebrides.

I have taken fifty twice,
One I've taken, taken thrice,
I have added to the store
Just an hundred and no more,
What I've gotten to a t,
Is unlawful certainly.

40. To me dear.

My first is three-fourths
kind of meat,
Which some are forbid to

of a rich

touch or






to eat ;
My second 's one half of a parson
or priest,
'Tis also two-thirds of a snarling
old beast;
My third is a fruit, 'tis- also a tree-
But give it a head, 'tis part, then,
of me;
My whole is an animal peevish and
Whose coat is not feathers, nor
hair, nor yet wool.

My first is an animal, a cunning
old thief;
Beheaded, it makes a strong sort
of beef.
My second is worn by the beaux
and the belles ;
Behead, all perfect in heaven it
My whole is a bell-shaped, pink-
coloured flower,
That shelters the bee in a sun-
shining shower !

My whole is a verb, curtail me
and I'm a verb, curtail me again
and I'm a verb, curtail me again
and I'm a verb, curtail me again
and I'm an interjection, transpose
me and I'm an interjection.

I I Ii I -I I i

- --"------

I I I I I I t I -5-


..... != .- ------ _.,~-

.------ ..-" \\-,\ I /

-I j

To face payj 64.

"Those city tradespeople," he echoed, making a circular sweep
with his stick, as if to challenge the attention of the crowd.

To face I .: r, 65.


my free forgiveness to the offender if he will only come forward in
honour and avow himself. Talbot is going on well; will be amidst us
again, I hope, in a few days; there's no earthly reason for refusing to
confess. Mrs. Talbot, sitting now with her son, says she forgives him
heartily. She is a Christian woman, gentlemen, and she is sorry for the
boy, instead of angry with him, because she knows how sorry he must
be himself. Accidents and moments of thoughtlessness happen to us all,'
she has just remarked to me : and so they do. Come I hope there's
some honour left amidst us yet."
The appeal elicited no response. And yet, that one of the boys present
had been guilty, there could be little doubt; or that he had gone out in
a master's cap by accident or design. In the confusion of the news the
previous night, when a rush was made to the robing closet, the caps of
the two masters, then arrived, were found hanging there. Upon the
boys being mustered, all who were known to have returned to school
answered to their names. There was no confusion, no sign of guilt ob-
servable in any one of the responders : nevertheless, the offender must
have made a run, as if for his life, sneaked in, replaced the cap, and
mingled with the others.
Won't you speak ?" reiterated the Doctor, casting his eyes around in
But not one answered.
Up went the birch, and came down again on its stump. Dr. Brabazon
was by no means a choleric man; but he could be so when greatly
Mr. Henry-no, don't rise, don't quit your place-of what height
was the boy you saw running away ?"
The Doctor's voice-a sonorous voice at all times-went rolling down
the spacious room to the opposite corner, where Mr. Henry sat behind
his desk. The latter hesitated in his reply, and the boys turned their
eyes from the Head Master to him.
"I cannot say positively, sir; it was so momentary a glimpse that I
"Yet you met him-as I am given to understand-face to face !"
I did; but he glided aside at once amidst the trees. He was of a
good height."
Tall enough for a senior boy ? "
Yes, certainly : I think so."
The birch agitated itself gently, as if the Doctor's hand shook a little,
and he looked full at the first desk, regarding those seated at it in
individual turn,



"I thought I could have trusted you all; I deemed there was not one
of you that I might not have relied upon. Gall, did you do this ? I
ask you, more for form's sake, for you had not come back to college.
Did you fire, by accident or design, this pistol off in the plantation last
night "
No, sir, I did not," replied Gall, slightly rising in his place to
Did you, Loftus major ?"
The exceeding satire of the question, as addressed to him, the
wronged owner of the abstracted weapon, nearly struck Loftus major
Of course I did not, sir."
Did you go out of college after prayers ? "
"Trace, did you go out of college after prayers, and fire off this
pistol ?"
"No, sir." And Trace's usual civility of tone was marked by a dash
of remonstrance at being asked. Suspect him, Mr. Trace, the model
boy of the school What next ?
Irby, did you ? "
No, sir. It wasn't me, sir."
Fullarton, did you ? "
I did not get back until this morning, sir."
True. Brown major, did you do it?"
Brown major, a simple fellow in most things, but with a rare capa-
city for Latin and Greek, opened his eyes in pure wonder. "Please,
sir, I never fired off a pistol in my life, sir. I shouldn't know how to
do it, sir."
And so on. Not a boy at the first desk acknowledged it; and they
numbered twelve. The Doctor glanced at the second desk; some tall
boys were there; but he said no more. Perhaps he thought suspicion
did not lie with them ; perhaps he would not afford them opportunity
for telling a falsehood.
It seems, then, I am not to be told. Well,"-and he turned par-
ticularly to the seniors-" I must believe that some mystery attaches to
this affair, and that not one of you is guilty. I will trust you still, as I
have ever done : only-do not let it come to my knowledge later that
my trust is a mistaken one."
He flung up the lower compartment of his table, put in the birch, and
shut it down with a bang. An uncomfortable feeling was on the Head
Master that day.



By the Author of East Lynne," The Channings," "c.


SR. BRABAZON sat at his desk-table,
birch in hand. Not often were the whole
of the boys assembled in hall as on this
afternoon; there were smaller rooms
Appropriated to particular branches of
Study. A huge birch, apparently made
out of ten besoms : the stump rested
on the table, the pointed end with its tickling twigs, tapered aloft in the
air. This formidable weapon, meant to inspire wholesome awe, had
never been used within the memory of, the oldest boy; very rarely was
it taken from its receptacle to be held in terrorem over the different
desks, running down the side walls of the long room, and along the end
of it.
The shooting of James Talbot the previous night in the plantation:
was it an accident, or was it done of deliberation ? This was what the
Head Master wanted to get at : and he very particularly wanted to get
at the gentleman who did it. Dick Loftus had made a clean breast of
it, off hand; for it was in Dick's nature so to do. But, in spite of all
the questioning, privately, individually, and collectively,-in spite of
putting the school upon its honour,-in spite of the offered promise that
the boy, if an accident, should be held harmless, nobody came forward
to confess; the whole lot remained, as the Doctor in his vexation ex-
pressed it, "hard and obstinate as nails." So then the birch was
got out.
Gentlemen, I feel sure it was a pure accident, and I could extend


A thirteenth boy had been added to the first desk, in George
Paradyne. Mr. Baker had directed him to take his place at it after
morning school, in accordance with some words let fall by the Head
Master, of the boy's proficiency. The first desk was a very exclusive
desk, not to be invaded lightly by a new-comer, and the decision, an
unusual one, did not find favour. Paradyne was greeted with a stare of
surprise, and the desk turned their backs upon him.
The afternoon studies proceeded as on other afternoons; but neither
masters nor boys felt at ease. Trace especially was in a state of
inward commotion, calm as he appeared outwardly. He supposed that
Dr. Brabazon had decided to retain Paradyne in the college, and he re-
sented it utterly. Mr. Trace had also one or two private matters of his
own troubling him, that it would not be convenient to speak of.
Loftus, as you perceive, was back in his place. He had walked on to
his uncle's, carrying the banished pistols in all the ignominy of the
position. Sir Simon Orville's residence was about half a mile from the
college. Pond Place it was called; an appellation that was supposed to
have originated from a large pond in the vicinity, and was excessively
distasteful to Mr. Loftus. A lovely spot, however, whatever it might
be called, with the brightest and rarest flowers clustering on the green
slope before the low white house. Sir Simon happened to be tending
some of these flowers, as it was his delight to do, when Loftus entered,
and that young gentleman was a little disconcerted at the encounter. In
his present frame of mind, he really did not want the additional
humiliation of having to explain to his uncle.
Halloa cried Sir Simon, in surprise. "What brings you here ?"
He was a little round man, with a red, kind face, shaped not unlike
the head of a codfish, and light hair that stuck up in a high point above his
forehead : one of the most unpretending, outspeaking men ever known,
who could not conceal that he had been "born nobody," imperfectly
educated, and had made his fortune laboriously and honestly by the work of
his hands. Now and then he burst out with these revelations before
the school boys, to whom he was fond of declaring his sentiments, to the
intense chagrin of Mr. Loftus, and the dancing delight of Dick. Sir
Simon was an old bachelor, very kind and good, hospitable to every-
body, and making much of his nephews. He was fond of Albert
Loftus, distinguishing the really good qualities of the boy's nature,
though ridiculing his pride and self-assumption. He'll get it taken out
of him," Sir Simon would say: and, to do the knight justice, he spared
no opportunity of helping on the process of extermination.
Twitching at his grey garden coat, which caught, with the suddenness


of his turning, in a beautiful shrub that bore white flowers, Sir Simon
looked in his nephew's face; not quite so lofty a face as usual.
"1 What's the matter, Bertie ? What's in that parcel ? "
So Bertie Loftus had to explain: he had taken a brace of pistols to
school, and the Doctor had despatched them back again. Sir Simon
enjoyed the information immensely; that is the despatching back"
portion of it. He knew very little about pistols himself; could not
remember, like Brown major, to have handled one in his life, and
regarded them rather in the light of a dangerous animal that you were
never sure of.
I should have buried them in the ground, had I been the Doctor,
instead of giving them back to you. 'You'll come to some mischief, Mr.
Albert, if you meddle with edged tools."
"I'd as soon he had buried them, as sent me back with them in the
face of the school," avowed Loftus, in his subdued spirit. And he went
on to disclose the calamity that the pistols had caused. Sir Simon was
Albert You have shot a boy?"
It was that miserable Dick," returned Loftus, looking as chop-fallen
as it was possible for him, with his naturally proud face, to look. I'm
very sorry, of course; but it was not my fault, and Dick ought to be
No; you ought to be punished for taking the things to school,"
returned Sir Simon. "It would be punishment enough for my whole
life, sir, if I had been the means of putting a fellow-creature's life in
danger. Here, stop! Where are you going with them now ? "
"To put them away." answered Loftus, who was turning to the
"' Are thev loaded?"
"No; not now."
I'd not permit a loaded pistol to come inside my house, look you,
Albert. You'll shoot yourself, sir, that's what you'll do. And it's that
poor Talbot, is it ? I knew his father when I lived in Bermondsey."
Away went Loftus, feeling no security that the pistols were not going
to be confiscated here. He locked them up in the room he occupied when
staying at his uncle's, and came forth again directly, delivering the
Head Master's message as he passed Sir Simon.
"Very well; I'll come, tell Dr. Brabazon. I suppose he is going to
complain of this underhanded act of yours."
Mr. Loftus supposed so too: had supposed nothing else since the
message was given him. He set off back again, leaving Pond Place



behind him and the cherished pistols that had come altogether to
Sir Simon Orville knew the hours at the college, and he timed his
visit so as to catch Dr. Brabazon at the rising of afternoon school. The
Doctor took him into his study : a pleasant room, with a large bay window
at the back of the house, partially overlooking the boys' playground,
with its gymnastic poles. The middle compartment of the window
opened to the ground, French fashion.
Sir Simon spoke at once of the unhappy accident that his nephews
had been the means of causing; asking what he could do, how he could
help the poor boy, and insisting that all charges should be made his.
He then found it was not on that business Dr. Brabazon had sent
for him, but on the other annoying matter relating to George Paradyne.
The Doctor stated the circumstances to him : that one of the new
scholars entered that day had been recognized by Trace to be the son
of the man Paradyne.
"It vexed me greatly," said the master; somehow the term seems
to have begun ungraciously. I suppose there's no doubt that the boy is
the same ? "
"I daresay not. Raymond ought to know him."
"A Ay; well, it is a very- vexatious matter, and one difficult to deal
with. Just at first, while Trace was speaking, I thought there could
be only one course-that of putting Paradyne away. But the cruel
injustice of this on the boy struck me immediately, and I could not help
asking myself why we should visit on children the sins of their fathers,
any more than-than Dr. Brabazon seemed to hesitate-" we
visit the sins of children on their parents."
Sir Simon brought down his stick with a couple of thumps. It was
a thick stick of carved walnut-wood, that he was rarely seen without,
and he had a habit of enforcing his arguments with it in this manner.
Dr. Brabazon understood'this as meant to enforce his.
And so I decided to do nothing until I had seen you. I would not
have assigned him his place in the school, but Mr. Baker did so before
I could stop it. But for your nephews being here, I should take no
notice of the matter, but let the boy remain on. As it is, I must
leave it to you, Sir Simon. If you think he ought not to be in the
same establishment as your nephews-their companion, as it were-
I'll put him away. Or, if you think it would be very objectionable to
Objectionable to them !" cried Sir Simon, bringing down his stick
again; "I can only tell you this, Doctor, that if my nephews were




mean enough, and ill-natured enough, to carry out those old scores upon
the boy, I'd disown 'em."
Trace, I am sure, will not like the boy to stay, though he may silently
put up with it. I saw that."
"Trace has got his silent crotchets just as much as anybody else,"
cried Sir Simon, a shade of anger in his tone. I'll talk to him; I'll
talk to the three. Treat Paradyne as you do the rest, Dr. Brabazon;
I would ask it of you as a personal favour. I turn the boy away!
I've just as much right to do it as he has to turn me out of Pond Place.
Deprive the boy of an education; of the means by which he'll have to
make his bread ? No ; a hundred times over, no," concluded Sir Simon,
in an explosive tone, the stick descending again.
Very well; he shall stay. And if circumstances force me to put
him away later,-that is, if the facts become known to the school, and
the boy's life is thereby rendered unhappy, why-but time enough to
talk of that. It might happen, Sir Simon."
Sir Simon saw that it might. Who knows of it he asked.
"Your two nephews and John Irby. I have strictly charged them,
on their honour, not to speak of this : I called them in before afternoon
school. Dick does not appear to have heard the name yet; but I shall
speak to him. It is unfortunate the name should be so peculiar-
Sir Simon nodded. It's odd the boy should have come to this
particular school. Is he one of your boarders ?"
"No ; he is an out-pupil; not in any master's house at all. About
five weeks ago I received a letter from the country, from a lady of the
name of Paradyne-I remember thinking it an uncommon name at the
time-asking if there was a vacancy in the college for a well-advanced
out-door pupil, and inquiring the terms. There happened to be a
vacancy, and I said so, and sent the terms; in a few days she wrote
again, saying her son would enter. She has come up to live here. I
asked Paradyne this morning where he was going to live, and he said
close by, with his mother."
They never much liked her," observed Sir Simon, who was casting
his thoughts back. Mrs. Trace said she spent too much."
I suppose they lived beyond their means, these Paradynes."
"No; it did not appear so ; and the mystery never was cleared up
where the abstracted sums (enormous sums they were !) had gone, and
what they had gone in. Mrs. Trace, my poor sister Mary, was of so
very quiet a disposition herself, caring nothing for dress or show; and
Mrs. Paradyne, I suppose, did care for it. I remember my brother-in-



law, Robert Trace, said to me, after the explosion, how glad he was
that they had lived quietly; no blame on that score could attach to
him. The Loftus's were different; they spent all before them. I
suppose you know the particulars ?"
Not at all. I never heard them."
"Then I'll tell you the story, from beginning to end, in a few brief
words. My brother-in-law, Robert Trace, who was always up to his
eyes in business-for Loftus would not attend to it-had some matters
to transact for a Captain Arthur Paradyne,-the selling out of shares, or
the buying in of shares, I forget which; and an intimacy grew up
between them. Paradyne had come in to some money through the death
of an aunt in Liverpool; previous to that he had lived in Germany, on
a very small income, as I understood. He seemed a thorough gentleman,
and, I should have said, an honest, open-dealing man. In an unlucky
hour Robert Trace-who had been hankering after a third partner for
some time, though Loftus could not see what they wanted with one, as
they kept efficient clerks-proposed to Captain Paradyne to invest his
money-two or three thousand pounds I think it was-in their concern,
and take a share. Paradyne consented; Mr. Loftus murmured at first,
but at last he consented ; and the firm became Loftus, Trace, & Paradyne.
Things went on smoothly for two years, or thereabouts, though Paradyne
proved an utter novice in business matters, as those military men,
gentlemen by birth and habit, often do; and Trace grumbled awfully.
Not publicly, you know; only in private to me, whenever I was down
at Liverpool. Then came the crash. Paradyne was discovered to have
played up Old Harry with everything; the money of the firm, the shares
of customers, all he could lay his hands on. Strange to say, it was
Loftus, the unbusiness man, who was the one to make the first discovery.
Only think of that!"
Dr. Brabazon merely nodded. He was listening attentively.
Mr. Loftus had gone 'to Liverpool for a few days. Something struck
him in looking over the books, and he called Robert Trace's attention to it.
That night they went into the thing together, and saw that some roguery
was being played. The next day it was all out, and ruin stared them
in the face. On the following morning Mr. Loftus caused Paradyne
to be arrested, and telegraphed for me. When I got down at night, the
man was dead."
"Dead !" exclaimed Dr. Brabazon.
He was dead, that poor Arthur Paradyne. Ah! when Loftus met
me with the news, it was a shock. He had been taken before the
magistrates for examination, was remanded, and put in a cell in the


lock-up, or whatever they call the place. One of the clerks, a young
man named Hopper, was allowed to have an interview with him, and
half an hour afterwards Paradyne was found dead in his cell. Of course
it was assumed that he had taken poison; but when the doctors made
the examination, they found le had died of disease of the heart;-a
natural sequence to the events of the day, for one whose heart was not
It was very shocking altogether."
"Ay,it was. And with his death ended the investigation. 'Whypursue
it ?' Trace asked; 'let it drop, for the wife and children's saee.' Robert
Trace was a hard man in general; but I must say he behaved leniently
in this case. It did not, so far, touch his pocket, you see; for all the
investigation in the world would not have brought back the wasted
money, or undone the work. The concern was wound up; Mr. Loftus
had to move into a small house, and otherwise reduce his expenses;
Robert Trace went to America with a little money I lent him; and
Mrs. Paradyne disappeared."
"It was a dreadful thing for her," spoke Dr. Brabazon.
"Yery. People, in their indignation against Paradyne, could not
think of her; but I did, and I went to see her. She was very bitter
against her husband; I could see it, though she said little."
"Did she tell you how the money had gone "
"She did not know. The discovery that he had been using it came
upon her with the same astonishment that it had upon the rest of us.
One thing she could swear to, she said to me-that it had never been
brought home, or used in any way for her or his children. I can't quite
recollect about the children," broke off Sir Simon; there was one, I
know, for I saw him-a fine boy; I suppose the one now come here;
but I have an impression there were more."
Had she nothing left--the mother ?"
"I asked her. She told me she had a small income, nothing like
enough to -keep her. I wonder how they have lived ?" continued Sir
Simon, after a pause.
The son has been to a thorough good school," observed Dr. Brabazon.
" Did Mr. Paradyne acknowledge his guilt ? "
"He denied it utterly, so Loftus told me; made believe at first to
think they were accusing him in joke."
A sudden light, something like hope, appeared in Dr. Brabazon's eyes
as he raised them to Sir Simon.
Is it possible that he could have been innocent?" he eagerly



No, it is not possible; there was no one else who could have had
access to the shares and things," was the answer. But Sir Simon looked
grieved, and was grieved, to have to make it.
.And so it was decided that George Paradyne should remain.



IN the comfortable apartment which was made the family sitting-room,
where Miss Brabazon might usually be found by anybody who
wanted her, sat a young lady on this same afternoon. A laughing,
saucy, wilful girl of thirteen, with short petticoats, and wavy brown
hair hanging down. It was Miss Rose Brabazon. Dr. Brabazon had
had two wives and lost them both : he had several older children, all
out in the world now, but this was the only young one, and spoilt
accordingly. That is, all out in the world save his eldest daughter, whom
you will see presently. Miss Rose was supposed to be at her studies.
Sundry exercise-books -wre before her on the square table, covered
with its handsome green cloth, in the middle of the room; in point of
fact, she was inditing a private letter, and taking recreative trips to the
window between whiles,-a large, pleasant window, looking out on the
gymnasium-ground, with a view of the Hampstead and Highgate hills
in the far distance. At least seventeen of the boys were madly in love
with Miss Rose, and Miss Rose reciprocated the compliment to about
half of them.
The door opened, and Miss Brabazon came in: a middle-sized, capable,
practical young woman of thirty, with a kind, good, sensible face. She
was the prop and stay of the house; looking after everything; to the
well-being of the large household, to the comfort of her father aud of the
boys, and to the education of Rose. Her dark hair was plainly braided
on her face, and she wore a dress of some soft blue material, with lace
collar and cuffs. Crossing over to a side-table, she laid down a book she
was carrying, and then looked at the address of two letters in her hand,
which had just been given her by the postman as she crossed the hall.
Miss Rose, all signs of everything unorthodox hidden away, was diligently
bending over her studies.
Is that exercise not done yet, Rose ?"



"It is so very difficult, Emma."
You have been idling away your time again, I fear. Have you
practised ?" continued Miss Brabazon, glancing half round at the
"Not yet, Emma."
"Have you ledrnt your French ?"
"I've not looked at it."
What have you been doing ?"
Miss Rose Brabazon lifted her pretty face and shook back her wavy
hair from her laughing blue eyes.
I thought you'd perhaps give me holiday this afternoon, as you were
so much occupied up-stairs with Lord Shrewsbury and his mother."
"1 Now, Rose, you knew better. And be so kind as to call the boys by
their right names. I wish you'd be a steady child !"
Rose laughed. Sir Simon Orville's here, Emma. I saw him at the
study window just now with papa."
Of course That's the way you get your lessons done, Rose."
Miss Rose tossed her pen-wiper into the air and caught it again.
She had the peculiar faculty of never listening to reproofs; at least of
listening to profit.
Whom are those letters for, Emma ?"
Not for you," answered Emma. You may put the books away
now, and go and wash your hands."
Books, exercises, pens, ink, were all hurried into a drawer in the
side-table, and away went Rose, meeting Mr. Henry at the door, for
whom Miss Brabazon had sent. He was no longer in his grey travelling
clothes, but was in a black surtout coat, looking, Miss Brabazon thought,
very entirely a gentleman, with his quiet manner and refined face.
Is this for you?" she asked, holding out one of the letters, which
bore on it a foreign post-mark. It is addressed Doctor Henry."
He took it from her with a smile. "Yes, thank you; it is for me.
Is there anything to pay I"
"No. Are you really Dr. JHenry ?"
Oh, Miss Brabazon, it is only my degree at the Heidelberg
University. I drop it over here. I see this is from one of the
professors. He forgot, I suppose: I wrote down my name for them all,
' Mr.' Henry."
But why should you drop it ?"
"It is much better. Fancy a young man like I am being called
doctor here! The masters would look askance at me, and the boys
laugh at me. Please don't mention it, Miss Brabazon."



Certainly not, as you wish it. I do not quite see your argument,
though. Here's papa."
Dr. Brabazon came in with a quiet step. He threw himself into a
chair, as one utterly weary. Oh, these boys, these boys !"
"Is anything the matter, papa ?"
"Not much, Emma; save that I feel out of sorts' with all things.
Don't go, Mr. Henry, I want to speak to you. You are acquainted
with young Paradyne, I hear."
A sort of bright hectic flashed into Mr. Henry's face. Miss Brabazon
noticed it. When she knew him better, she found that any powerful
emotion always brought it there. Yes, sir, I knew him in Germany.
He is a very clever boy."
"Ay, he seems that. I like the boy amazingly, so far as I have seen.
What about his past history ?"
Dr. Brabazon looked full at the German master. Mr. Henry under-
stood, and found there was no help for it; he must respond; though he
had an invincible dislike to speak of the Paradynes and their misfortune.
You mean that unhappy business in Liverpool, sir ?"
I do. I am very sorry the boy has been recognized here. You
may speak before my daughter, Mr. Henry,"-for the Doctor saw that
he had glanced uneasily at Miss Brabazon. I told her of it to-day ;
she is quite safe. It seems almost a fatality that the boy should have
come to the very place where Trace and the Loftuses were being
"Yes it does," was the sad response: and Dr. Brabazon little thought
how bitterly that poor sensitive young German master was reproaching
himself, for he had been the means of bringing the boy to Orville
I'd not hesitate to keep the boy a minute, if I were sure--"
"Oh, sir, don't turn him out!" interrupted Mr. Henry, his voice
ringing with pain. "To dismiss George Paradyne from the college
might prove a serious blight upon him; it might follow him every-
where, for the cause could not fail to be noised abroad. Better let him
stay now and face it out : he may-it is possible he may-in time-live
it down. I beg your pardon, Dr. Brabazon; I ought not to have said
so much."
My good friend,"-and the Doctor was little less agitated than Mr.
Henry,-" you never need urge clemency on me. Heaven knows that
we have, most of us, secret cares -of our own; and they render us-or
ought to-lenient upon others. If I could wipe out with a sponge the
past as regards young Paradyne, I'd do it in glad thankfulness. He is



to remain; it is so decided; and I hope the past will not ooze out to
the school. That's all I fear."
In himself he is, I think, everything that could be wished," said the
usher in a low tone; "a good, honourable, painstaking boy, with the
most implicit trust in his late father's innocence."
Dr. Brabazon lifted his eyes. But there are no possible grounds to
hope that he was innocent! Are there ?"
"Not any, I fear."
"Well, well; better perhaps that the lad should think it. You were
not in Liverpool when it happened ?"
I was in Germany. The account of it was sent to me."
By whom ?-if I may ask it."
By Mrs. Paradyne."
"She does not believe her husband to have been innocent ?"
Oh, no."
Has Mrs. Paradyne enough to live upon ?"
Her income, I believe, is very small indeed."
Then how does she give the boy this expensive education ?"
I fancy some friend helps her," was the reply. And I know that
a considerable reduction was made in the terms of the last school, on
account of the boy's fluency in French and German."
I suppose you have kept up a correspondence with them, Mr.
Henry ?"
Yes; though not a very frequent one."
When you knew Mr. Paradyne, was he an honest man ?"
Strictly so; honest, honourable, entitled to every respect. I have
never been able to understand how he could fall from it."
One of those sudden temptations, I suppose, beginning in a trifle,
ending-nobody knows where. Unhappy man!"
The head-master said no more, and Mr. Henry left the room with his
letter. Miss Brabazon found her tongue.
"Papa, how strangely sensitive he seems to be, this new master of
yours! Did you see the hectic on his face V"
Poor fellow, yes. He is very friendless; and to be so gives us a
fellow-feeling for the unfortunate, Emma."
Are you aware that he is Dr. Henry ?"
Is he ? He took honours abroad, I believe. We don't think much
of that, you know."
He drops the title over here ; does not care that it should be known.
Did it strike you, papa, while he was speaking, that he must have
some secret trouble of his own ? "



No. I was thinking, Emma, of somebody else's secret trouble."
Miss Brabazon evidently understood the allusion. Her countenance
dropped, and she turned to busy herself with the tea, which was coming
in, and Sir Simon Orville with it. He had been up to see Talbot. Later,
after tea, Sir Simon was out in the cricket-field, Loftus, Trace, and the
scholar Irby gathered round him. He had gone out, calling for Trace,
calling for Loftus ; and when other of the boys came flocking up-for it
was a red-letter day when they could get Sir Simon-he sent them
away again.
I want only these two graceless ones," he said: "you all be off,"
and the boys went shouting and laughing. "Yes, you, Irby, you may
He talked to them for a few moments very plainly and earnestly.
Loftus was the first to respond.
"I have already said, sir, that Paradyne is safe for me, and I can keep
my word."
I'll never tell upon him, Sir Simon," added Irby; I'll make him
my friend, if you like."
Is the fellow to stop ?" asked Trace.
"Yes, sir, he is to stop," replied Sir Simon, turning sharply upon the
speaker. It is Dr. Brabazon's pleasure that he should stop, and it is
mine also. What have you to say against it ?"
Nothing at all," quietly replied Trace.
That's well," returned Sir Simon, in a cynical tone of suavity. And
now, mind, you Trace-- Loftus, you mind-if unpleasantness does
arise to this unlucky boy through either of you, I'll-I'll-by George I
I'll make him, young Paradyne, my heir."
He turned off in the direction of the plantation, curious to examine
the scene of the last night's outrage. Quite one half of the college had
gathered there. Sir Simon laid his hand upon Dick Loftus.
So This was your doing !"
Don't, uncle," said Dick, wincing; I'm as vexed about it as you
can be. I'd rather have been shot myself."
A pretty pair of nephews I've got !" exclaimed Sir Simon, using
his stick on the ground rather violently, to the admiration of the sur-
rounding throng; "the one smuggles pistols into the school, and the
other brings 'em out and shoots a boy! "
I didn't shoot him," said Dick.
You were the cause of it, sir. If Talbot dies, and the thing comes
to trial, were I the judge on the bench, I should transport you for seven
years, Dick Loftus, as accessory in a second degree."



"Talbot isn't going to die," debated hardy Dick.
And serve him right," put in Mr. Loftus, answering the semi-threat
of Sir Simon. Transportation for seven years would be just the thing
Dick deserves. What right had the young idiot to meddle with my
pistols ? "
"What right had you to have pistols to be meddled with ?" retorted
Sir Simon. And to have 'em loaded ? And to keep 'em where Dick
could get to them ? I'd transport you for fourteen."
Mr. Loftus did not like the tables being turned on him. He drew his
head up with a jerk.
"And you the senior, save one, of the school, who might have been
expected to be a pattern to the rest added Sir Simon, mercilessly.
You'd not have done it, would you, Gall ?"
The senior boy, quietly looking on, lifted his eyes at being addressed.
I don't think I should, Sir Simon."
It was an inoffensive answer enough, in regard to words; but the
quiet tone of condemnation, the half compassionate smile that accom-
panied it, angered Loftus out of his pride and his prudence.
It's not likely he would. Pistols would be of no use to him.
What do those city tradespeople want with pistols ? "
The insolent retort was not lost on Sir Simon, for it gave him an
opportunity that he was ever ready to seize upon; ever, it may be said,
watching for-that of putting down the lofty notions of his otherwise
favourite nephew.
Those city tradespeople," he echoed, making a circular sweep with
his stick, as if to challenge the attention of the crowd. Hark at him !
Hold your tongue, Gall; I'll talk. Has he changed ranks with Talbot,
do you know, boys, and become a lord ? City people! I'm his uncle;
but he ignores that. I wasn't in the City; never aspired to it; I was
only in Bermondsey; a tanner. A tanner, boys, as some of your fathers
could tell you; Orville & Tubbs it was. Tubbs is there tanning still;
Tubbs & Sons, and a good snug business they've got. I wasn't born with a
fortune in the bank, as some folks are; I had to make my way by hard
work, and with very little education, and I did it. I had no Orville
College to learn Latin and Greek and politeness at, though they do tell
me I'm related to its founder. Perhaps I am ; but it's only a sixteenth
cousin, boys."
A shout of laughter: the boys' satisfaction had grown irrepressible.
Sir Simon laughed with them.
We were thirteen of us to get out in the world, boys and girls, and
our father a clerk on three hundred a year. It seemed a fortune in



those days ; because a man's children expected to go out and work for them-
selves. I went out at twelve, boys; my father put me to a fishmonger,
and I didn't like it; and he gave me a flogging for caprice, and sent me
to a tanner's. I didn't like that-you should have smelt the skins !-
but I had to stick to it. And I did stick to it, and in time made a
business for myself, and when it got too large I took in my young fore-
man, Tubbs, and gave him a share. I was a common councilman, then,
and a very grand honour I thought it was to be such ; but I didn't
leave off work. Up early and to bed late, and making my abode amidst
the skins in my yard, was I. Fortune came to me, boys; it comes to
most people who patiently work for it; and they made me a sheriff of
London, and in going up with. an address to Court, the Queen knighted
me, and that brings me with the handle to my name, which I assure
you I'm not at home with yet, and for months afterwards couldn't believe
that it was me being spoken to. I retired from business then, and I
bought Pond Place up here. I didn't buy it because it was near the
college, and that Dr. Orville had been a sixteenth cousin, but because it
suited me, and the situation and the air suited me. And that's how I
come to be Sir Simon Orville : and what I've got I've humbly worked
for. Mr. Loftus there was born a gentleman, though his mother was
my sister, and he'd like me to go in for rank, and for quarterings on my
carriage, and crests on my spoons, and pretend that I'd never heard
there was such a low thing as tanning amidst trades. Yah, boys I
hate pretension, and so does every sincere nature ever created. It's
only a species of acted falsehood ; it won't help us on the road to
A murmur of applause, and a slight clapping of hands. Sir Simon
lifted his stick again.
He despises the Galls, that lofty nephew of mine ; he lets you know
that he does. Boys, allow me to tell you, that there's not a better man
in all London than Joseph Gall, the head of the respectable firm of
Gall & Batty. Substantial, too, Mr. Loftus."
Loftus stood like a pillar of salt, stony and upright, showing no sign
whatever of his intense annoyance. These periodical revelations of Sir
Simon's, given gratuitously to the boys on any provocation, were the
very thorns of his life. At such moments, it would have puzzled Loftus
to tell which he despised most-the Galls as a whole, or his uncle as a
And now about this shooting business," resumed Sir Simon. Where
was the pistol fired from ?"
Just from this point, Sir Simon," spoke Leek, who was one of the


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