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286 power to separate the indistinct cognition into its parts. M. Renan, in short, has made a very strange confusion of analytic style of expression with mental analysis: all expression of relations, whether by means that we call synthetic or analytic, is the result and evidence of analysis; and his own thesis respecting the complexity in obscurity of unpractised and uninstructed thought, brings us directly to a recognition of the radical stage of Indo-European language as the necessary historical basis of its inflective development.

This development, it may be remarked in conclusion, has been gradual and steadily progressive, being governed in both its synthetic and analytic phases by the same causes which universally regulate linguistic growth, and which have been here repeatedly set forth or referred to: namely, on the one hand, the traditional influence of the stores of expression already worked out and handed down, consisting in the education given by them to thought, and the constraining force exerted by their analogies; and, on the other hand, the changing character and capacity, the varying circumstances and needs, of the community of speakers, during the different periods of their history. It has experienced no grand revolution, no sudden shift of direction, no pervading change of tendency. There is no cleft, as is sometimes assumed, parting ancient tongues from modern, justifying the recognition of different forces, the admission of different possibilities, in the one and in the other. Nor are we to regard the energies of a community as absorbed in the work of language-making more at one period than at another. Language-making is always done unconsciously and by the way, as it were: it is one of the incidents of social life, an accompaniment and result of intellectual activity, not an end toward which effort is directed, nor a task in whose performance is expended force which might have been otherwise employed. The doctrine that a race first constructs its language, and then, and not till then, is ready to commence its historic career, is as purely fanciful as anything in the whole great chapter of à priori theorizings about speech. No living language ever ceases to be constructed, or is less rapidly built upon in ages of historic activity: only the style


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VII.] of the fabric is, even more than the rate, determined by external circumstances. It is because the very earliest epoch of recorded history are still far distant from the beginnings of Indo-European language, as of human language generally, that we find its peculiar structure completely developed when it is first discovered by our researches. We have fully acknowledged the powerful influence exerted by culture over the growth of language: but neither the accident of position and accessibility to other nations that at a certain time brings a race forward into the light of record, and makes it begin to be an actor or a factor in the historic drama, nor its more gradual and independent advance to conspicuousness in virtue of acquired civilization and political power, can have any direct effect whatever upon its speech. The more thorough we are in our study of the living and recent form of human language, the more rigorous in applying the deductions thence drawn to the forms current in ante-historic periods, the more cautious about admitting forces and effect in unknown ages whereof the known afford us no example or criterion, so much the more sound and trustworthy will be the conclusions at which we shall arrive. It is but a shallow philology, as it is a shallow geology, which explains past changes by catastrophes and cataclysms.

We have now long enough given our almost exclusive attention to the language of the Indo-European race, and, in the next two lectures, shall proceed to define the boundaries and sketch the characters, as well as we may, of the other grand divisions of human speech.

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was quite tiresome for ever so long after we found the Princess. He would keep on wanting to go to the Park when the rest of us didn't, and though we went several times to please him, we never found that door open again, and all of us except him knew from the first that it would be no go.

So now we thought it was time to do something to rouse him from the stupor of despair, which is always done to heroes when anything baffling has occurred. Besides, we were getting very short of money again—the fortunes of your house cannot be restored (not so that they will last, that is), even by the one pound eight we got when we had the "good hunting." We spent a good deal of that on presents for Father's birthday. We got him a paper-weight, like a glass bun, with Rh


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96 a picture of Lewisham Church at the bottom; and a blotting-pad, and a box of preserved fruits, and an ivory penholder with a view of Greenwich Park in the little hole where you look through at the top. He was most awfully pleased and surprised, and when he heard how Noël and Oswald had earned the money to buy the things he was more surprised still. Nearly all the rest of our money went to get fireworks for the Fifth of November. We got six Catherine wheels and four rockets; two hand-lights, one red and one green; a sixpenny maroon; two Roman-candles—they cost a shilling; some Italian streamers, a fairy fountain, and a tourbillon that cost eighteen-pence and was very nearly worth it.

But I think crackers and squibs are a mistake. It's true you get a lot of them for the money, and they are not bad fun for the first two or three dozen, but you get jolly sick of them before you've let off your sixpenn'orth. And the only amusing way is not allowed: it is putting them in the fire.

It always seems a long time till the evening when you have got fireworks in the house, and I think as it was a rather foggy day we should have decided to let them off directly after breakfast, only Father had said he would


text: Dictionary of National Biography, 1885-1900/Knollys, William (1547-1632)


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Rh help us to let them off at eight o'clock after he had had his dinner, and you ought never to disappoint your Father if you can help it.

You see we had three good reasons for trying H. O.'s idea of restoring the fallen fortunes of our house by becoming bandits on the Fifth of November. We had a fourth reason as well, and that was the best reason of the lot. You remember Dora thought it would be wrong to be bandits. And the Fifth of November came while Dora was away at Stroud staying with her godmother. Stroud is in Gloucestershire. We were determined to do it while she was out of the way, because we did not think it wrong, and besides we meant to do it anyhow.

We held a Council, of course, and laid our plans very carefully. We let H. O. be Captain, because it was his idea. Oswald was Lieutenant. Oswald was quite fair, because he let H. O. call himself Captain; but Oswald is the eldest next to Dora, after all.

Our plan was this. We were all to go up on to the Heath. Our house is in the Lewisham Road, but it's quite close to the Heath if you cut up the short way opposite the confectioner's, past the nursery gardens and the cottage hospital, and turn to the left again Rh


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98 and afterwards to the right. You come out then at the top of the hill, where the big guns are with the iron fence round them, and where the bands play on Thursday evenings in the summer.

We were to lurk in ambush there, and waylay an unwary traveller. We were to call upon him to surrender his arms, and then bring him home and put him in the deepest dungeon below the castle moat; then we were to load him with chains and send to his friends for ransom. You may think we had no chains, but you are wrong, because we used to keep two other dogs once, besides Pincher, before the fall of the fortunes of the ancient House of Bastable. And they were quite big dogs.

It was latish in the afternoon before we started. We thought we could lurk better if it was nearly dark. It was rather foggy, and we waited a good while beside the railings, but all the belated travellers were either grown up or else they were Board School children. We weren't going to get into a row with grown-up people—especially strangers—and no true bandit would ever stoop to ask a ransom from the relations of the poor and needy. So we thought it better to wait.


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Rh As I said, it was Guy Fawkes Day, and if it had not been we should never have been able to be bandits at all, for the unwary traveller we did catch had been forbidden to go out because he had a cold in his head. But he would run out to follow a guy, without even putting on a coat or a comforter, and it was a very damp, foggy afternoon and nearly dark, so you see it was his own fault entirely, and served him jolly well right.

We saw him coming over the Heath just as we were deciding to go home to tea. He had followed that guy right across to the village (we call Blackheath the village; I don't know why), and he was coming back dragging his feet and sniffing.

"Hist, an unwary traveller approaches!" whispered Oswald.

"Muffle your horses' heads and see to the priming of your pistols," muttered Alice. She always will play boys' parts, and she makes Ellis cut her hair short on purpose. Ellis is a very obliging hairdresser.

"Steal softly upon him," said Noël; "for lo! 'tis dusk, and no human eyes can mark our deeds."

So we ran out and surrounded the unwary traveller. It turned out to be


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100, and he was very frightened indeed until he saw who we were.

"Surrender!" hissed Oswald, in a desperate-sounding voice, as he caught the arm of the Unwary. And Albert-next-door said, "All right! I'm surrendering as hard as I can. You needn't pull my arm off."

We explained to him that resistance was useless, and I think he saw that from the first. We held him tight by both arms, and we marched him home down the hill in a hollow square of five.

He wanted to tell us about the guy, but we made him see that it was not proper for prisoners to talk to the guard, especially about guys that the prisoner had been told not to go after because of his cold.

When we got to where we live he said, "All right, I don't want to tell you. You'll wish I had afterwards. You never saw such a guy."

"I can see you!" said H. O. It was very rude, and Oswald told him so at once, because it is his duty as an elder brother. But H. O. is very young and does not know better yet, and besides it wasn't bad for H. O.

Albert-next-door said, "You haven't any


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Rh manners, and I want to go in to my tea. Let go of me!"

But Alice told him, quite kindly, that he was not going in to his tea, but coming with us.

"I'm not," said Albert-next-door; "I'm going home. Leave go! I've got a bad cold. You're making it worse." Then he tried to cough, which was very silly, because we'd seen him in the morning, and he'd told us where the cold was that he wasn't to go out with. When he had tried to cough, he said, "Leave go of me! You see my cold's getting worse."

"You should have thought of that before," said Dicky; "you're coming in with us."

"Don't be a silly," said Noël; "you know we told you at the very beginning that resistance was useless. There is no disgrace in yielding. We are five to your one."

By this time Eliza had opened the door, and we thought it best to take him in without any more parleying. To parley with a prisoner is not done by bandits.

Directly we got him safe into the nursery, H. O. began to jump about and say, "Now you're a prisoner really and truly!"

And Albert-next-door began to cry. He


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102 always does. I wonder he didn't begin long before—but Alice fetched him one of the dried fruits we gave Father for his birthday. It was a green walnut. I have noticed the walnuts and the plums always get left till the last in the box; the apricots go first, and then the figs and pears; and the cherries, if there are any.

So he ate it and shut up. Then we explained his position to him, so that there should be no mistake, and he couldn't say afterwards that he had not understood.

"There will be no violence," said Oswald—he was now Captain of the Bandits, because we all know H. O. likes to be Chaplain when we play prisoners—"no violence. But you will be confined in a dark, subterranean dungeon where toads and snakes crawl, and but little of the light of day filters through the heavily mullioned windows. You will be loaded with chains. Now don't begin again, Baby, there's nothing to cry about; straw will be your pallet; beside you the gaoler will set a ewer—a ewer is only a jug, stupid; it won't eat you—a ewer with water; and a mouldering crust will be your food."

But Albert-next-door never enters into the spirit of a thing. He mumbled something about tea-time.


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Rh Now Oswald, though stern, is always just, and besides we were all rather hungry, and tea was ready. So we had it at once, Albert-next-door and all - and we gave him what was left of the four-pound jar of apricot jam we got with the money Noël got for his poetry. And we saved our crusts for the prisoner.

Albert-next-door was very tiresome. Nobody could have had a nicer prison than he had. We fenced him into a corner with the old wire nursery fender and all the chairs, instead of putting him in the coal-cellar as we had first intended. And when he said the dog-chains were cold the girls were kind enough to warm his fetters thoroughly at the fire before we put them on him.

We got the straw cases of some bottles of wine someone sent Father one Christmas—it is some years ago, but the cases are quite good. We unpicked them very carefully and pulled them to pieces and scattered the straw about. It made a lovely straw pallet, and took ever so long to make—but Albert-next-door has yet to learn what gratitude really is. We got the bread trencher for the wooden platter where the prisoner's crusts were put—they were not mouldy, but we could not wait till they got so, and for the ewer we got the toilet


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104 jug out of the spare-room where nobody ever sleeps. And even then Albert-next-door couldn't be happy like the rest of us. He howled and cried and tried to get out, and he knocked the ewer over and stamped on the mouldering crusts. Luckily there was no water in the ewer because we had forgotten it, only dust and spiders. So we tied him up with the clothes line from the back kitchen, and we had to hurry up, which was a pity for him. We might have had him rescued by a devoted page if he hadn't been so tiresome. In fact Noël was actually dressing up for the page when Albert-next-door kicked over the prison ewer.

We got a sheet of paper out of an old exercise book, and we made H. O. prick his own thumb, because he is our little brother and it is our duty to teach him to be brave. We none of us mind pricking ourselves; we've done it heaps of times. H. O. didn't like it, but he agreed to do it, and I helped him a little because he was so slow, and when he saw the red bead of blood getting fatter and bigger as I squeezed his thumb he was very pleased, just as I had told him he would be.

This is what we wrote with H. O.'s blood, only the blood gave out when we got to


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Rh "Restored," and we had to write the rest with crimson lake, which is not the same colour, though I always use it, myself, for painting wounds.

While Oswald was writing it he heard Alice whispering to the prisoner that it would soon be over, and it was only play. The prisoner left off howling, so I pretended not to hear what she said. A Bandit Captain has to overlook things sometimes. This was the letter—

"Albert Morrison is held a prisoner by Bandits. On payment of three thousand pounds he will be restored to his sorrowing relatives, and all will be forgotten and forgiven."

I was not sure about the last part, but Dicky was certain he had seen it in the paper, so I suppose it must have been all right.

We let H. O. take the letter; it was only fair, as it was his blood it was written with, and told him to leave it next door for Mrs Morrison.

H. O. came back quite quickly, and Albert-next-door's uncle came with him.

"What is all this, Albert?" he cried. "Alas, alas, my nephew! Do I find you the prisoner of a desperate band of brigands?"


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106 "Bandits," said H. O; "you know it says bandits."

"I beg your pardon, gentlemen," said Albert-next-door's uncle, "bandits it is, of course. This, Albert, is the direct result of the pursuit of the guy on an occasion when your doting mother had expressly warned you to forego the pleasures of the chase."

Albert said it wasn't his fault, and he hadn't wanted to play.

"So ho!" said his uncle, "impenitent too! Where's the dungeon?"

We explained the dungeon, and showed him the straw pallet and the ewer and the mouldering crusts and other things.

"Very pretty and complete," he said. "Albert, you are more highly privileged than ever I was. No one ever made me a nice dungeon when I was your age. I think I had better leave you where you are."

Albert began to cry again and said he was sorry, and he would be a good boy.

"And on this old familiar basis you expect me to ransom you, do you? Honestly, my nephew, I doubt whether you are worth it. Besides, the sum mentioned in this document strikes me as excessive: Albert really is not worth three thousand pounds. Also by a


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Rh strange and unfortunate chance I haven't the money about me. Couldn't you take less?"

We said perhaps we could.

"Say eightpence," suggested Albert-next-door's uncle, "which is all the small change I happen to have on my person."

"Thank you very much," said Alice as he held it out; "but are you sure you can spare it? Because really it was only play."

"Quite sure. Now, Albert, the game is over. You had better run home to your mother and tell her how much you've enjoyed yourself."

When Albert-next-door had gone his uncle sat in the Guy Fawkes armchair and took Alice on his knee, and we sat round the fire waiting till it would be time to let off our fireworks. We roasted the chestnuts he sent Dicky out for, and he told us stories till it was nearly seven. His stories are first-rate—he does all the parts in different voices. At last he said—

"'Look here, young uns. I like to see you play and enjoy yourselves, and I don't think it hurts Albert to enjoy himself too."

"I don't think he did much," said H. O. But I knew what Albert-next-door's uncle meant because I am much older than H. O. He went on—


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108 "But what about Albert's mother? Didn't you think how anxious she would be at his not coming home? As it happens I saw him come in with you, so we knew it was all right. But if I hadn't, eh?"

He only talks like that when he is very serious, or even angry. Other times he talks like people in books—to us, I mean.

We none of us said anything. But I was thinking. Then Alice spoke.

Girls seem not to mind saying things that we don't say. She put her arms round Albert-next-door's uncle's neck and said—

"We're very, very sorry. We didn't think about his mother. You see we try very hard not to think about other people's mothers because——"

Just then we heard Father's key in the door and Albert-next-door's uncle kissed Alice and put her down, and we all went down to meet Father. As we went I thought I heard Albert-next-door's uncle say something that sounded like "Poor little beggars!"

He couldn't have meant us, when we'd been having such a jolly time, and chestnuts, and fireworks to look forward to after dinner and everything!


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was Albert's uncle who thought of our trying a newspaper. He said he thought we should not find the bandit business a paying industry, as a permanency, and that journalism might be.

We had sold Noël's poetry and that piece of information about Lord Tottenham to the good editor, so we thought it would not be a bad idea to have a newspaper of our own. We saw plainly that editors must be very rich and powerful, because of the grand office and the man in the glass case, like a museum, and the soft carpets and big writing-table. Besides our having seen a whole handful of money that the editor pulled out quite carelessly from his trousers pocket when he gave me my five bob.

Dora wanted to be editor and so did Oswald, Rh


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112 but he gave way to her because she is a girl, and afterwards he knew that it is true what it says in the copybooks about Virtue being its own Reward. Because you've no idea what a bother it is. Everybody wanted to put in everything just as they liked, no matter how much room there was on the page. It was simply awful! Dora put up with it as long as she could and then she said if she wasn't let alone she wouldn't go on being editor; they could be the paper's editors themselves, so there.

Then Oswald said, like a good brother: "I will help you if you like, Dora," and she said, "You're more trouble than all the rest of them! Come and be editor and see how you like it. I give it up to you." But she didn't, and we did it together. We let Albert-next-door be sub-editor, because he had hurt his foot with a nail in his boot that gathered.

When it was done Albert-next-door's uncle had it copied for us in typewriting, and we sent copies to all our friends, and then of course there was no one left that we could ask to buy it. We did not think of that until too late. We called the paper the Lewisham Recorder; Lewisham because we live there, and Recorder in memory of the good editor.


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Rh I could write a better paper on my head, but an editor is not allowed to write all the paper. It is very hard, but he is not. You just have to fill up with what you can get from other writers. If I ever have time I will write a paper all by myself. It won't be patchy. We had no time to make it an illustrated paper, but I drew the ship going down with all hands for the first copy. But the typewriter can't draw ships, so it was left out in the other copies. The time the first paper took to write out no one would believe! This was the Newspaper:—

THE LEWISHAM RECORDER.

EDITORS: DORA AND OSWALD BASTABLE.

Every paper is written for some reason. Ours is because we want to sell it and get money. If what we have written brings happiness to any sad heart we shall not have laboured in vain. But we want the money too. Many papers are content with the sad heart and the happiness, but we are not like that, and it is best not to be deceitful.—. Rh


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114 There will be two serial stories; one by Dicky and one by all of us. In a serial story you only put in one chapter at a time. But we shall put all our serial story at once, if Dora has time to copy it. Dicky's will come later on.

SERIAL STORY

BY US ALL

I.—By Dora.

The sun was setting behind a romantic-looking tower when two strangers might have been observed descending the crest of the hill. The eldest, a man in the prime of life; the other a handsome youth who reminded everybody of Quentin Durward. They approached the Castle, in which the fair Lady Alicia awaited her deliverers. She leaned from the castellated window and waved her lily hand as they approached. They returned her signal, and retired to seek rest and refreshment at a neighbouring hostelry.

—By Alice.

The Princess was very uncomfortable in the tower, because her fairy godmother had told


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Rh her all sorts of horrid things would happen if she didn't catch a mouse every day, and she had caught so many mice that now there were hardly any left to catch. So she sent her carrier pigeon to ask the noble strangers if they could send her a few mice—because she would be of age in a few days and then it wouldn't matter. So the fairy godmother——(I'm very sorry, but there's no room to make the chapters any longer.—.)

—By the Sub-Editor.

(I can't—I'd much rather not—I don't know how.)

—By Dicky.

I must now retrace my steps and tell you something about our hero. You must know he had been to an awfully jolly school, where they had turkey and goose every day for dinner, and never any mutton, and as many helps of pudding as a fellow cared to send up his plate for—so of course they had all grown up very strong, and before he left school he challenged the Head to have it out man to man, and he gave it him, I tell you. That


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116 was the education that made him able to fight Red Indians, and to be the stranger who might have been observed in the first chapter.

V.—By Noël

I think it's time something happened in this story. So then the dragon he came out, blowing fire out of his nose, and he said—

"Come on, you valiant man and true,          I'd like to have a set to along of you!"

(That's bad English.—. I don't care; it's what the dragon said. Who told you dragons didn't talk bad English?—.)

So the hero, whose name was Noeloninuris, replied—

"My blade is sharp, my axe is keen, You're not nearly as big as a good many dragons I've seen."

(Don't put in so much poetry, Noël. It's not fair, because none of the others can do it.—.)

And then they went at it, and he beat the dragon, just as he did the Head in Dicky's part of the Story, and so he married the Princess, and they lived——(No they didn't—not till the last chapter.—.)


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Rh —By H. O.

I think it's a very nice story—but what about the mice? I don't want to say any more. Dora can have what's left of my chapter.

VII.—By the Editors.

And so when the dragon was dead there were lots of mice, because he used to kill them for his tea; but now they rapidly multiplied and ravaged the country, so the fair lady Alicia, sometimes called the Princess, had to say she would not marry any one unless they could rid the country of this plague of mice. Then the Prince, whose real name didn't begin with N, but was Osrawalddo, waved his magic sword, and the dragon stood before them, bowing gracefully. They made him promise to be good, and then they forgave him; and when the wedding breakfast came, all the bones were saved for him. And so they were married and lived happy ever after.

(What became of the other stranger?—. The dragon ate him because he asked too many questions.—.)

This is the end of the story.


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118

It only takes four hours and a quarter now to get from London to Manchester; but I should not think any one would if they could help it.

A dreadful warning.—A wicked boy told me a very instructive thing about ginger. They had opened one of the large jars, and he happened to take out quite a lot, and he made it all right by dropping marbles in, till there was as much ginger as before. But he told me that on the Sunday, when it was coming near the part where there is only juice generally, I had no idea what his feelings were. I don't see what he could have said when they asked him. I should be sorry to act like it.

Experiments should always be made out of doors. And don't use benzoline.—.

(That was when he burnt his eyebrows off.—.)

The earth is 2,400 miles round, and 800 through—at least I think so, but perhaps it's the other way.—.


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Rh {You ought to have been sure before you began.—.)

In this so-called Nineteenth Century Science is but too little considered in the nurseries of the rich and proud. But we are not like that.

It is not generally known that if you put bits of camphor in luke-warm water it will move about. If you drop sweet oil in, the camphor will dart away and then stop moving. But don't drop any till you are tired of it, because the camphor won't any more afterwards. Much amusement and instruction is lost by not knowing things like this.

If you put a sixpence under a shilling in a wine-glass, and blow hard down the side of the glass, the sixpence will jump up and sit on the top of the shilling. At least I can't do it myself, but my cousin can. He is in the Navy.

.

Noël.—You are very poetical, but I am sorry to say it will not do.

Alice.—Nothing will ever make your hair


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120 curl, so it's no use. Some people say it's more important to tidy up as you go along. I don't mean you in particular, but every one.

H. O.—We never said you were tubby, but the Editor does not know any cure.

Noël.—If there is any of the paper over when this newspaper is finished, I will exchange it for your shut-up inkstand, or the knife that has the useful thing in it for taking stones out of horses' feet, but you can't have it without.

H. O.—There are many ways how your steam engine might stop working. You might ask Dicky. He knows one of them. I think it is the way yours stopped.

Noël.—If you think that by filling the garden with sand you can make crabs build their nests there you are not at all sensible.

You have altered your poem about the battle of Waterloo so often, that we cannot read it except where the Duke waves his sword and says some thing we can't read either. Why did you write it on blotting-paper with purple chalk?—.

(Because you know who sneaked my pencil.—.)


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Rh

The Assyrian came down like a wolf on the fold, And the way he came down was awful, I'm told; But it's nothing to the way one of the Editors comes down on me, If I crumble my bread-and-butter or spill my tea.—.

If you hold a guinea-pig up by his tail his eyes drop out.

You can't do half the things yourself that children in books do, making models or so on. I wonder why?—.

If you take a date's stone out and put in an almond and eat them together, it is prime. I found this out.—.

If you put your wet hand into boiling lead it will not hurt you if you draw it out quickly enough. I have never tried this.—.

(Instructive Article.)

If I ever keep a school everything shall be quite different. Nobody shall learn anything they don't want to. And sometimes instead of having masters and mistresses we will have cats, and we will dress up in cat skins and learn purring.


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122 "Now, my dears," the old cat will say, "one, two, three—all purr together," and we shall purr like anything.

She won't teach us to mew, but we shall know how without teaching. Children do know some things without being taught.—.

(Translated into French by Dora.)

Another piece of it.

It is a mistake to think that cats are playful. I often try to get a cat to play with me, and she never seems to care about the game, no matter how little it hurts.—H. O.


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Rh Making pots and pans with clay is fun, but do not tell the grown-ups. It is better to surprise them, and then you must say at once how easily it washes off—much easier than ink.—.

By Dicky.

"Well, Annie, I have bad news for you," said Mr Ridgway, as he entered the comfortable dining-room of his cabin in the Bush. "Sam Redfern the Bushranger is about this part of the Bush just now. I hope he will not attack us with his gang."

"I hope not," responded Annie, a gentle maiden of some sixteen summers.

Just then came a knock at the door of the hut, and a gruff voice asked them to open the door.

"It is Sam Redfern the Bushranger, father," said the girl.

"The same," responded the voice, and the next moment the hall door was smashed in, and Sam Redfern sprang in, followed by his gang.


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124

Annie's Father was at once overpowered, and Annie herself lay bound with cords on the drawing-room sofa. Sam Redfern set a guard round the lonely hut, and all human aid was despaired of. But you never know. Far away in the Bush a different scene was being enacted.

"Must be Injuns," said a tall man to himself as he pushed his way through the brushwood. It was Jim Carlton, the celebrated detective. "I know them," he added; "they are Apaches." Just then ten Indians in full war-paint appeared. Carlton raised his rifle and fired, and slinging their scalps on his arm he hastened towards the humble log hut where resided his affianced bride, Annie Ridgway, sometimes known as the Flower of the Bush.

The moon was low on the horizon, and Sam Redfern was seated at a drinking bout with some of his boon companions.

They had rifled the cellars of the hut, and the rich wines flowed like water in the golden goblets of Mr Ridgway.


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Rh But Annie had made friends with one of the gang, a noble, good-hearted man who had joined Sam Redfern by mistake, and she had told him to go and get the police as quickly as possible.

"Ha! ha!" cried Redfern, "now I am enjoying myself!" He little knew that his doom was near upon him.

Just then Annie gave a piercing scream, and Sam Redfern got up, seizing his revolver.

"Who are you?" he cried, as a man entered.

"I am Jim Carlton, the celebrated detective," said the new arrival.

Sam Redfern's revolver dropped from his nerveless fingers, but the next moment he had sprung upon the detective with the well-known activity of the mountain sheep, and Annie shrieked, for she had grown to love the rough Bushranger.

(To be continued at the end of the paper if there is room.)

A new slate is horrid till it is washed in milk. I like the green spots on them to draw


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126 patterns round. I know a good way to make a slate-pencil squeak, but I won't put it in because I don't want to make it common.—.

Peppermint is a great help with arithmetic. The boy who was second in the Oxford Local always did it. He gave me two. The examiner said to him, "Are you eating peppermints?" And he said, "No, Sir." He told me afterwards it was quite true, because he was only sucking one. I'm glad I wasn't asked. I should never have thought of that, and I could have had to say "Yes."—.

By Noël

(Author of "A Dream of Ancient Ancestors)." He isn't really—but he put it in to make it seem more real.

Hark! what is that noise of rolling Waves and thunder in the air? 'Tis the death-knell of the sailors             [Malabar. And officers and passengers of the good ship

It was a fair and lovely noon When the good ship put out of port And people said "Ah little we think      How soon she will be the elements' sport."


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Rh

She was indeed a lovely sight Upon the billows with sails spread. But the captain folded his gloomy arms, Ah—if she had been a life-boat instead!

See the captain stern yet gloomy Flings his son upon a rock, Hoping that there his darling boy May escape the wreck.

Alas in vain the loud winds roared And nobody was saved. That was the wreck of the Malabar, Then let us toll for the brave.—.

It is useless to plant cherry-stones in the hope of eating the fruit, because they don't!

Alice won't lend her gardening tools again, because the last time Noël left them out in the rain, and I don't like it. He said he didn't.

These are useful to play at shop with, until you are ready. Not at dinner-parties, for they will not grow unless uncooked. Potatoes are not grown with seed, but with chopped-up potatoes. Apple trees are grown from twigs, which is less wasteful.


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128 Oak trees come from acorns. Every one knows this. When Noel says he could grow one from a peach stone wrapped up in oak leaves, he shows that he knows nothing about gardening but marigolds, and when I passed by his garden I thought they seemed just like weeds now the flowers have been picked.

A boy once dared me to eat a bulb.

Dogs are very industrious and fond of gardening. Pincher is always planting bones, but they never grow up. There couldn't be a bone tree. I think this is what makes him bark so unhappily at night. He has never tried planting dog-biscuit, but he is fonder of bones, and perhaps he wants to be quite sure about them first.

By Dick.

This would have been a jolly good story if they had let me finish it at the beginning of the paper as I wanted to. But now I have forgotten how I meant it to end, and I have lost my book about Red Indians, and all my Boys of England have been sneaked. The girls say "Good riddance!"' so I expect they


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Rh did it. They want me just to put in which Annie married, but I shan't, so they will never know.

We have now put everything we can think of into the paper. It takes a lot of thinking about. I don't know how grown-ups manage to write all they do. It must make their heads ache, especially lesson books.

Albert-next-door only wrote one chapter of the serial story, but he could have done some more if he had wanted to. He could not write out any of the things because he cannot spell. He says he can, but it takes him such a long time he might just as well not be able. There are one or two things more. I am sick of it, but Dora says she will write them in.

Legal answer wanted.—A quantity of excellent string is offered if you know whether there really is a law passed about not buying gunpowder under thirteen.—

The price of this paper is one shilling each, and sixpence extra for the picture of the Malabar going down with all hands. If we Rh


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130 sell one hundred copies we will write another paper.

*     *      *      *      *

And so we would have done, but we never did. Albert-next-door's uncle gave us two shillings, that was all. You can't restore fallen fortunes with two shillings!


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32 LESSON V.

TO BEND THE NECK TO RIGHT AND LEFT, WITH THE REINS HELD BELOW THE BIT (FLEXIONS DE L'ENCOLURE).

beginning each lesson it is well, as has been already recommended, to review hastily the instruction previously given.

Now place yourself on the left side of your horse, with your riding-whip tip downward in your right hand, and with your feet firmly planted a little apart. Take the right curb-rein in your right hand at about six inches from the lever of the bit, and the left curb-rein in your left at three inches from the lever, and having brought the horse's head to a perpendicular position, pull the two hands steadily apart, moving the right hand to the right and the left hand to the left, so as to pry the horse's head around to the right by means of the twist of the bit in his mouth. If he offers to back, stop him by tapping his breast with the whip; if he tries to pull away his head, hold on tight, until presently he will turn his head to the right, when you will instantly say, "Bravo! bravo!" and after holding it so a few seconds, bring it back to its original position. Very

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 Rh the first and ultimately reached enormous dimensions. The Apollinaris water sold largely not only in England, but in America, Europe, India, and in the British colonies. The unexpected success of the venture very sensibly augmented Smith's resources. The money he had invested in it amounted to a very few thousand pounds, and this small sum yielded for more than twenty years an increasingly large income which altogether surpassed the returns from his other enterprises. In 1897 the business was profitably disposed of to a public company.

In 1880 Smith lightened his responsibilities in one direction by handing over the 'Pall Mall Gazette' to Mr. Henry Yates Thompson, who had lately married his eldest daughter. Thenceforth the paper was wholly controlled by others. During the late seventies the pecuniary promise of the journal had not been sustained. It continued, however, to be characterised by good literary style, and to attract much literary ability, and it still justified its original aims of raising the literary standard of journalism and of observing a severer code of journalistic morality than had before been generally accepted. In 1870 Charles Reade contributed characteristically polemical sketches on social topics which were remunerated at an unusually high rate. In 1871 Matthew Arnold contributed his brilliantly sarcastic series of articles called 'Friendship's Garland.' Richard Jefferies's 'The Gamekeeper at Home' and others of the same writer's rural sketches appeared serially from 1876 onwards. Almost all Jefferies's books were published by Smith. At the same time other writers on the paper gave him several opportunities of gratifying his taste for fighting actions for libel. Dion Boucicault in 1870, Hepworth Dixon in 1872, and Mr. W. S. Gilbert in 1873, all crossed swords with him in the law courts on account of what they deemed damaging reflections made upon them in the 'Pall Mall Gazette;' but in each instance the practical victory lay with Smith, and he was much exhilarated by the encounters. At length, during the crisis in Eastern Europe of 1876 and the following years, the political tone of the paper became, under Mr. Greenwood's guidance, unflinchingly conservative. Smith, although no strong partisan in politics, always inclined to liberalism; and his sympathies with his paper in its existing condition waned, so that he parted from it without much searching of heart.

To the end of his life Smith continued to give the freest play to his instinct of hospitality. After 1872, when he gave up his houses both at Hampstead and at Brighton, he settled in South Kensington, where he rented various residences from time to time up to 1891. In that year he purchased the Duke of Somerset's mansion in Park Lane, which was his final London home. From 1884 to 1897 he also had a residence near Weybridge. Of late years he usually spent the spring in the Riviera, and on more than one occasion visited a German watering-place in the summer. Wherever he lived he welcomed no guests more frequently or with greater warmth than the authors and artists with whom he was professionally associated. His fund of entertaining reminiscence was unfailing, and his genial talk abounded in kindly reference to old friends and acquaintances. The regard in which he was held


text: Poems (Coates 1916)/Volume II/The Frogs

title: Poems (Coates 1916)/Volume II/The Frogs


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 To

OSWALD BARRON


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"The old gentleman caught him by the collar, and called him a young thief."


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"Good old Pincher had got Lord Tottenham by the trouser-leg."


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"To the police station."


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"We followed her on tiptoe, and Alice sang as she went."


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"'See the rich treasure!'"


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"I don't suppose he was used to politeness from boys."


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"The Uncle was very fierce with the pudding."


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 T. FISHER UN'WIN, Publisher, SOME 3/6 NOVELS Uniform Edition of MARK Rutherford's works. Edited by Reuben Shapcott. Crown 8vo., clotlv^ The Revolution in Tanner's The Autobiography of Mark Rutherford. Fifth Edition. Mark Rutherford's Deliver- ance. New Edition. Miriam's Schooling, and other Papers. By MARK KUTHERFORD. With Frontispiece by Walter Crane. Second Edition. Lane. Catharine Furze : A Novel. By Mark Rutherford. Fourth Edition. Clara Hopgood. By Mark Rutherford. "These writings are certainly not to be lightly dismissed, bearing as they do the imoress of a mind which, although limited "in range and sympathies, is decidedly original." — Times. The Statement of Stella Maberly. By F. Anstey, Author of " Vice Versa." Crown 8vo, cloth. " It is certainly a strange and striking story." — Aihenisum, Silent Gods and Sun-Steeped Lands. By R. W. Frazer. Second Edition. With 4 full-page Illustrations by A. D. McCORMICK and a Photo- gravure Frontispiece. Small crown 8vo., cloth. " Mr. Frazer write-s powerfully and well, and seems to have an intimate acquaint- ance with the sun-steeped land, and the strange beings who people it." — Glasgow Herald. Paul Heinsius. By Cora Lyster. Crown 8vo., cloth. "This is an extremely clever and altogether admirable, but not altogether unkindly, anatomisation of Teutonic character." — Daily Chronicle. lAy Bagdad; By Elliott Dickson. Illustrated. 8vo., cloth. " Related with a refreshing simplicity that is certain to approve itself to readers."— Bookseller, Silk of the Kine. By L. McManus (C. MacGuire), Author of "Amabel: A Military Romance," Crown 8vo., cloth. "We have read 'The Silk of the Kine,' from the first page to the last, without missing a single word, and we sighed regretfully when Mr. McManus brought the adventures of Margery MacGuire and Piers Ottley to a close." — Literary World, A Pot of Honey. By Susan Christian. Crown 8vo., cloth. "The book is the outcome of a clever mind." — Athenceum, Lfza of Lambeth. By W. Somerset Maugham. Crown 8vo., cloth. "An interesting story of life and character in the Surrey-side slums, presented with a great deal of sympathetic humour." — Daily Chronicle., Paternoster Buildings, London, E.G. f


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 T. FISHER UN-WIN, Publisher, SOME WORKS BY REV. E. J. HARDY " The Murray of Matrhnony^ the Baedeker of Bliss." HOW TO BE HAPPY THOUGH MARRIED Popular Edition, gilt edges, cloth, bevelled boards, 3s« G-c3.. Presentation Edition, white vellum, cloth, bevelled boards, gilt edges, in box, 7s. Gd. "An entertaining volume., . . The new guide to matrimonial felicity. — "Standard. "This charming volume. . . . Wit and wisdom abound in its pages; as for tiie good stories, they are almost too plentiful. ' — Spectator. Uniform in style and prices zuith the foregoing. THE FIVE TALENTS OF WOMAN A Book for Girls and Young Women THE BUSINESS OF LIFE A Book for Everyone Square imperial iGmo., cloth, 3s. Gd. — Presentation Edition, bevelled boards, gilt edges, in box, 7s. 6d, "Calculated to teach the art of happiness and contentment as well as mere exhortation can teach it," — Times. "Pleasant as well as profitable reading." — Liter ari World. •'A host of social subjects are treated in a way at once wise and witty, and in a manner as delightful to read as they are pleasantly 'improving.' "—Daily Telegraph, THE SUNNY DAYS OF YOUTH A Book for Boys and Young Men Square Imperial l6mo., cloth, 3s. 6cl« — Presentatinjt Edition, elegantly bound, bevelled hoards, gilt edges, 7s. 6d.. " It is an excellent book for a serious-minded boy." — Scotsman. "The pleasantest reading possible . . . this useful little book." — Educational Review, "As well written as it is unquestionably well-intentioned." — Leeds Mercury, FAINT YET PURSUING Square Imperial l6mo. Popular Edition. Crown Svo., cloth, 36. OdI. "Will meet with an extensive recognition." — Morning Post. " Short and sensible . . . they form fresh and breezy reading." — Glasgow HeraUL "MANNERS MAKYTH MAN" Presentation Edition, imperial l6mo., cloth, bevelled boards^ in box, Ts. Gdl./ cloth, Ss. Popular Edition^ small square %vo., cloth, 3s. 6d. "Good-natured, wholesome, and straightforward." — Saturday Review. "A really delightful volume, well adapted for family reading." — Christian World, THE LOVE AFFAIRS OF SOME F AM O US MEN imperial i6mo., cloth, 3s. 6d. , Paternoster Buildings, London, E.G. ff


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 T. FISHER UN"WIN, Publisher, WORKS BY MARTIN A. S. HUME F.R.H.S., Editor of the "Calendar of Spanish State Papers of Elizabeth" (Public Record Office). THE COURTSHIPS OF QUEEN ELIZABETH With Portraits Fourth Edition. Large crown Svo., cloth, 6s. " It is undeniably an important addition to the history of the Elizabethan period, and it will rank as the foremost authority on the most interesting aspect of the character of the Tudor Qwen:'—Pall Mall Gatette. "A clear and very interesting account. An excellent book." — Times. "A connected and consistent, though assuredly a most extraordinary, story. ... A fascinating picture." — Staftdard. "A delightful book." — Daily Telegraph, THE YEAR AFTER THE ARMADA AND OTHER HISTORICAL STUDIES Second Edition. Illustrated, Demy Si'o., cloth giltf 12s. "A most valuable and conscientiously written historical work." — Spectator. "The whole book is extremely interesting, and at once instructive and amusing." Speaker. "Deserves a wide circulation, and we trust that a proper reward will follow close upon its merits." — Literary World. " Major Hume has thrown the most curious and valuable light on the Armada period. Full of delightful sketches of men and things."— W. L. Courtney in The Daily Telegraph. " A work which adds many a fresh page to English, and one may say to European history. . . . From first to last the volume is excellent reading, while the enter- taining style in which the matter is presented and the undeniable authority of the writer . . . render the book of special interest and permanent value." — The Morning Post. " Quite as good as a novel— and a good deal better, too. The book is so bright and vivid that readers with the common dislike of history may venture on its pages unafraid."— Andrew Lang in Cosmopolis. SIR WALTER RALEGH Being Vol. I. of the series entitled " Builders of Greater Britain," each vol. with photogravure frontispiece and map. Large crown 8w., cloth^ 5s. each. " There is not a dull page in it, and, with his skilful telling of it, the story of Raleigh's Mfe and of his times reads like a romance." — Pall Mall Gazette. , Paternoster Buildings, London, E.G. u


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 T. FISHER UNWIN, Publisher, MASTERS OF MEDICINE EDITBD BT ERNEST HART, D.C.L., Editor of " The British Medical Journal." Large crown Sv o., cloth^ each. Medical discoveries more directly concern the well-being and happiness of the hnm&n rsice than any victories of science. They appeal to one of the primary instincts of human nature, that of self-preservation. The importance of health as the most valuable of our national assets is coming to be more and more recognised, and the place of the doctor in Society and in the State is becoming one of steadily increasing prominence ; indeed, Mr. Gladstone said not many years ago that the time would surely come when the medical profession would take precedence of all the others in authority as well as in dignity. The development of medicine from an empiric art to an exact science is one of the most important and also one of the most interestmg chapters in the history' of civilisation. The histories of medicine which exist are for the most part only fitted for the intellectual digestion of Dryasdust and his congeners. Of the men who made the discoveries which have saved incalculable numbers of human lives, and which have lengthened the span of human existence, there is often no record at all accessible to the general reader. "^ et the story of these men's lives, of their struggles and of their triumphs, is not only interesting, but in the highest degree stimulating and educative. Many of them could have said with literal truth what Sir Thomas Browne said figuratively, that their lives were a romance. Hitherto there have been no accounts of the lives of medical discoverers in a form at once convenient and uniform, and sold at a popular price. The " Masters of Medicine " is a series of biographies written by "eminent hands" intended to supply this want. It is intended that the man shall be depicted as he moved and lived and had his being, and that the scope and gist of his work, as well as the steps by which he reached his results, shall be set forth in a clear, readable style. The following is a condensed list AUTHOR. Stephen Paget • D'Arcy Power H. Laing Gordon . John G. McKendrick Sir William Stokes Michael Foster Timothy Holmes. J. F. Payne C. L. Taylor. of some of the earlier volumes >— TITLE. John Hunter William Harvey Sir James Simpson Hermann von Helmholtz William Stokes Claude Bernard Sir Benjamin Brodie Thomas Sydenham Vesalius , Paternoster Buildings, Lor don, E.G. J,y


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T. FISHER UNWIN, Publisher, The ADVENTURE SERIES Popular Re-issue. Each large crown Svo.,/u/fy illustrated. Popular n-issue, per vol. ; in two styles of binding^ viz,^ decorative cover ^ cut edges ; and plain library style^ untouched edges.

1. Adventures of a Younger Son. By Edward J. Trelawney. Introduction by Edward Garnett.

2. Madagascar; or, Robert Drury's Journal during his Captivity on that Island. Preface and Notes by Captain S. P. Oliver, R.A.

3. Memoirs of the Extraordinary Military Career of John Shipp.

4. The Buccaneers and Marooners of America. Edited and Illustrated by Howard Pyle.

5. The Log of a Jack Tar: Being the Life of James Choyce, Master Mariner. Edited by Comman- der V. Lovett Cameron.

6. Ferdinand Mendez Pinto, the Portu- guese Adventurer. New Edition. Annotated by Prof. A. Vambery.

7. Adventures of a Blockade Runner. By William Watson. Illustrated by Arthur Byng, R.N.

8. The Life and Adventures of James Beckwourth. Mountaineer, Scout, Pioneer, and Chief of Crow Nation Indians. Edited by Chas. G. Leland.

9. A Particular Account of the European Military Adventurers of Hindustan. Compiled by Henry Compton.

, Paternoster Buildings, London, E.G. «


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 T. FISHER UNWIN, Publisher, BUILDERS OF GREATER BRITAIN EDITED BY H. F. WILSON

A Set of 10 Volumes, each with Photogravure Frontispiece, and Map, large crown 8vo., cloth, 5 s. each.

The completion of the Sixtieth year of the Queen's reign will be the occasion of ranch retrospect and review, in the course of which the great men who, under the auspices of Her Majesty and her predecessors, have helped to make the British Empire what it is to-day, will naturally be brought to mind. Hence the idea of the present series. These biographies, concise but full, popular but authoritative, have been designed with the view of giving in each case an adequate picture of the builder in relation to his work.

The series will be under the general editorship of Mr. H. F. Wilson, formerly Fellow of Trinity College, Cambridge, and now private secretary to the Right Hon. J. Chamberlain at the Colonial Office. Each volume will be placed in competent hands, and will contain the best portrait obtainable of its subject, and a map showing his special contribution to the Imperial edifice. The first to appear will be a Life of Sir Walter Ralegh, by Major Hume, the learned author of "The Year after the Armada." Others in contemplation will deal with the Cabots, the quarter-centenary of whose sailing from Bristol is has recently been celebrated in that city, as well as in Canada and Newfoundland; Sir Thomas Maitland, the "King Tom" of the Mediterranean; Rajah Brooke, Sir Stamford Raffles, Lord Clive, Edward Gibbon Wakefield, Zachary Macaulay, &c., &c.

The Series has taken for its motto the Miltonic prayer : —

RAJAH BROOKE; the Englishman as Ruler of an Eastern State. By Sir, G.C.M.G. ADMIRAL PHILIP; the Founding of New South Wales. By and. STAMFORD RAFFLES; England in the Far East. By the Editor.
 * 1) SIR WALTER RALEIGH. By, Author of "The Courtships of Queen Elizabeth," &c.
 * 2) SIR THOMAS MAITLAND; the Mastery of the Mediterranean. By.
 * 3) JOHN CABOT AND HIS SONS; the Discovery of North America. By, M.A.
 * 4) EDWARD GIBBON WAKEFIELD; the Colonisation of South Australia and New Zealand. By, C.B., L.L.D.
 * 5) LORD CLIVE; the Foundation of British Rule in India. By Sir, K.C.S.I., C.I.E.

11 Paternoster Buildings, London, E.C. bb


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 T. FISHER UNAATIN, Publisher, THE CHILDREN'S STUDY Long Svo., cloth, gilt tof, with photogravure frontisptece, price 2S/6 each. Scotland. By Mrs. Oliphant. Ireland. Edited by Barry O'Brien. England. By Frances E. Cooke. Germany. By Kate Freiligrath Kroeker, Author of '* Fairy Tales from Brentano," &c. Old Tales from Greece. By Alice Zimmern. France. By Mary Rowsell. Spain. By Leonard Williams. Rome. By Mary Ford. Canada. By J. R. McIlwraith.

OPINIONS OF THE PRESS ON " SCOTLAND."

" For children of the right age this is an excellent little history." — Daily News, " Enough of fault-finding with a writer who has otherwise performed his task in a perfectly charming manner." — Daily Chronicle. "The best book for the rising Caledonian that has appeared for many a day." " Simple, picturesque, and well-proportioned." — Glasgow Herald. iScoisman. "A charming book full of life and colour."— S^rfaA/r. " As a stimulator of the imagination and intelligence, it is a long way ahead of many books in use in some schools." — Sketch. "The book is attractively produced. Mrs. Oliphant has performed her difficult task well." — Educational Times. "A work which may claim its place upon the shelves of the young people's library, where it may prove of not a little service also to their elders." — School Board Chronicle.

OPINIONS OF THE PRESS ON "IRELAND."

" Many who are children no longer will be glad of this compact but able introduc- tion to the story of Ireland's woes. The form of the volume is particularly attractive." British Weekly. "We heartily congratulate Mr. Barry O'Brien upon this interesting little volume. The style is intensely interesting." — Schoolmaster. " It is well that the youth of England, who have entered into a serious inheritance and who will soon be the voters of England, should have some conception of the country with whom they are so closely bound up, and for whose past their fathers are so heavily responsible. We do not know of any work so fitting for imparting to them this knowledge as the present, which, therefore, we heartily commend to all teachers as the best text-book of Irish history for the young." — Daily Chronicle.

OPINIONS OF THE PRESS ON ENGLAND."

"Terse, vivid, well-informed." — Speaker. "Pleasantly written, and well within the capacity of a young child. . ., We anticipate with pleasure the appearance of the succeeding volumes of 'The Children's Study.'" — School Guardian. "Admirably done .... always easy of understanding." — Scotsman. OPINIONS OF THE PRESS ON " GERMANY." " We have seldom seen a small history so well balanced, and consequently so adequate as an introduction to the subject." — Educational Times. " Painstaking and well written." — Daily Chronicle. "Clear as accurate. It is just the sort of book to give to a youngster who has to study Teutonic history." — Black and White. "An interesting historical series." — Pall Mall Gazette. , Paternoster Buildings, London, E.G. aa


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 T. FISHER UNWIN, Publisher,

______________

''Each Volume is furnished with Maps, Illustrations, and Index. Large Crown 8vo., fancy cloth, gold lettered, or Library Edition, dark cloth, burnished red top,'' 5s. each.—Or may be had in half Persian, cloth sides, gilt tops; Price on Application.

1. Rome. By Arthur Gilman, M.A.

2. The Jews. By Professor J. K. Hosmer.

3. Germany. By the Rev. S. Baring-Gould.

4. Carthage. By Professor Alfred J. Church.

5. Alexander's Empire. By Prof. J. P. Mahaffy.

6. The Moors In Spain. By Stanley Lane-Poole.

7. Ancient Egypt. By Prof. George Rawlinson.

8. Hungary. By Prof. Arminius Vambery.

9. The Saracens. By Arthur Gilman, M.A.

10. Ireland. By the Hon. Emily Lawless.

11. Chaldea. By Zenaide A. Ragozin.

12. The Goths. By Henry Bradley.

13. Assyria. By Zenaide A. Ragozin.

14. Turkey. By Stanley Lane-Poole.

15. Holland. By Professor J. E. Thorold Rogers.

16. Mediaeval France. By Gustave Masson.

17. Persia. By S. G. W. Benjamin.

18. Phœnicia. By Prof. George Rawlinson.

19. Media. By Zenaide A. Ragozin.

20. The Hansa Towns. By Helen Zimmern.

21. Early Britain. By Professor Alfred J. Church.

22. The Barbary Corsairs. By Stanley Lane-Poole.

23. Russia. By W. R. Morfill.

24. The Jews under the Roman Empire. By W. D. Morrison.

25. Scotland. By John MacKintosh, LL.D.

26. Switzerland. By R. Stead and Lina Hug.

27. Mexico. By Susan Hale.

28. Portugal. By H. Morse Stephens.

29. The Normans. By Sarah Orne Jewett.

30. The Byzantine Empire. By C. W. C. Oman, M.A.

31. Sicily: Phœnician, Greek and Roman. By the late E. A. Freeman.

32. The Tuscan and Genoa Republics. By Bella Duffy.

33. Poland. By W. R. Morfill.

34. Parthia. By Prof. George Rawlinson.

35. The Australian Commonwealth. By Greville Tregarthen.

36. Spain. By H. E. Watts.

37. Japan. By David Murray, Ph.D.

38. South Africa. By George M. Theal.

39. Venice. By the Hon. Alethea Wiel.

40. The Crusades: The Latin Kingdom of Jerusalem. By T. A. Archer and Charles L. Kingsford.

41. Vedic India. By Zenaide A. Ragozin.

42. The West Indies and the Spanish Main. By James Rodway, F.L.S.

43. Bohemia. By C. E. Maurice.

44. The Balkans. By W. Miller.

45. Canada. By Dr. Bourinot.

46. British India. By R. W. Frazer, LL.B.

47. Modern France. By André le Bon.

The Franks. By Lewis Sergeant. B.A.

49. Austria. By Sidney Whitman.

50. Modern England before the Reform Bill. By Justin McCarthy. M.P.

51. China. By Professor Douglas.


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 Of the United States Geological Survey.

"His book is a very good example of its kind, carefully written, full of the information that is required."—The Times.

"He has written the most important book that has been published on the subject."—Chicago Tribune.

"His volume of 429 pages, with profuse Illustrations and an index, forms a little condensed library of reference."—N. Y. Times.

"The book is well and ably written ... is brightened by a truly magnificent series of photographs . . . beautifully reproduced on fine paper."—Edinburgh Scotsman.

Tourists to Cuba, Porto Rico and the West Indies will find this a most reliable and the only General Handbook.

T. FISHER UNWIN, PATERNOSTER SQUARE, LONDON.


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With Technical Remarks and Suggestions by and. Together with 154 Illustrations, besides a Frontispiece Portrait of Joseph Pennell by, and other original lithographs by A. Legros, W. Strang, C. H. Shannon, A. Lunois, J. McLure Hamilton and T. R. Way. (13$1/undefined$ x 10$1/undefined$ inches, xiii + 279 pp.) £3 13s. 6d. net. Also, a Fine Edition signed by ; on Japan paper, £15 15s. net.

With Introduction and Comments by, and numerous Pictures illustrative of the artist's method and vein of humour ; to which is added a Bibliography of Selected Works and Notes by. The Edition is limited to 750 copies (250 of these for America), an Ordinary Edition at £3 13s. 6d. net., and 15 copies of a Fine Edition at £I5 15s. net.

Illustrated with over 100 Drawings by. With an Introduction on "Vierge and his Art," by ; and "A Critical Essay on Quevedo, and his Writings," by. Super royal 4to, parchment, old style (limited edition), £3 13s. 6d. net.


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 UNWIN BROTHERS, WOKING AND LONDON.


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 [ chapters of this story have appeared in the Pall Mall Magazine, and in the Windsor Magazine, and some portions were printed by the Illustrated London News and in Nister's Holiday Annual. To the Editors of these journals my thanks are due.—]


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Being editors is not the best way to wealth. We all feel this now, and highwaymen are not respected any more like they used to be.

I am sure we had tried our best to restore our fallen fortunes. We felt their fall very much, because we knew the Bastables had been rich once. Dora and Oswald can remember when Father was always bringing nice things home from London, and there used to be turkeys and geese and wine and cigars come by the carrier at Christmas-time, and boxes of candied fruit and French plums in ornamental boxes with silk and velvet and gilding on them. They were called prunes, but the prunes you buy at the grocer's are quite different. But now there is seldom anything nice brought from London, and the turkey Rh


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134 and the prune people have forgotten Father's address.

"How can we restore those beastly fallen fortunes?" said Oswald. "We've tried digging and writing and princesses and being editors."

"And being bandits," said H. O.

"When did you try that?" asked Dora quickly. "You know I told you it was wrong."

"It wasn't wrong the way we did it," said Alice, quicker still, before Oswald could say, "Who asked you to tell us anything about it?" which would have been rude, and he is glad he didn't. "We only caught Albert-next-door."

"Oh, Albert-next-door!" said Dora contemptuously, and I felt more comfortable; for even after I didn't say, "Who asked you, and cetera," I was afraid Dora was going to come the good elder sister over us. She does that a jolly sight too often.

Dicky looked up from the paper he was reading and said, "This sounds likely," and he read out—


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Rh "I wish we could secure that partnership," said Oswald. He is twelve, and a very thoughtful boy for his age.

Alice looked up from her painting. She was trying to paint a fairy queen's frock with green bice, and it wouldn't rub. There is something funny about green bice. It never will rub off; no matter how expensive your paintbox is—and even boiling water is very little use.

She said, "Bother the bice! And, Oswald, it's no use thinking about that. Where are we to get a hundred pounds?"

"Ten pounds a week is five pounds to us," Oswald went on—he had done the sum in his head while Alice was talking—"because partnership means halves. It would be A 1."

Noël sat sucking his pencil—he had been writing poetry as usual. I saw the first two lines—

I wonder why Green Bice Is never very nice.

Suddenly he said, "I wish a fairy would come down the chimney and drop a jewel on the table—a jewel worth just a hundred pounds."

"She might as well give you the hundred pounds while she was about it," said Dora.


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136 "Or while she was about it she might as well give us five pounds a week," said Alice.

"Or fifty," said I.

"Or five hundred," said Dicky.

I saw H. O. open his mouth, and I knew he was going to say, "Or five thousand," so I said—

"Well, she won't give us fivepence, but if you'd only do as I am always saying, and rescue a wealthy old gentleman from deadly peril he would give us a pot of money, and we could have the partnership and five pounds a week. Five pounds a week would buy a great many things."

Then Dicky said, "Why shouldn't we borrow it?" So we said, "Who from?" and then he read this out of the paper—

"What does it all mean?" asked H. O.

"It means that there is a kind gentleman who has a lot of money, and he doesn't know


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Rh enough poor people to help, so he puts it in the paper that he will help them, by lending them his money—that's it, isn't it, Dicky?"

Dora explained this and Dicky said, "Yes." And H. O. said he was a Generous Benefactor, like in Miss Edgeworth. Then Noël wanted to know what a note of hand was, and Dicky knew that, because he had read it in a book, and it was just a letter saying you will pay the money when you can, and signed with your name.

"No inquiries!" said Alice. "Oh—Dicky—do you think he would?"

"Yes, I think so," said Dicky. "I wonder Father doesn't go to this kind gentleman. I've seen his name before on a circular in Father's study."

"Perhaps he has," said Dora.

But the rest of us were sure he hadn't, because, of course, if he had, there would have been more money to buy nice things. Just then Pincher jumped up and knocked over the painting-water. He is a very careless dog. I wonder why painting-water is always such an ugly colour? Dora ran for a duster to wipe it up, and H. O. dropped drops of the water on his hands and said he had got the plague. So we played at the plague for a


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138 bit, and I was an Arab physician with a bath-towel turban, and cured the plague with magic acid-drops. After that it was time for dinner, and after dinner we talked it all over and settled that we would go and see the Generous Benefactor the very next day. But we thought perhaps the G. B.—it is short for Generous Benefactor—would not like it if there were so many of us. I have often noticed that it is the worst of our being six—people think six a great many, when it's children. That sentence looks wrong somehow. I mean they don't mind six pairs of boots, or six pounds of apples, or six oranges, especially in equations, but they seem to think you ought not to have five brothers and sisters. Of course Dicky was to go, because it was his idea. Dora had to go to Blackheath to see an old lady, a friend of Father's, so she couldn't go. Alice said she ought to go, because it said, 'Ladies and gentlemen,' and perhaps the G. B. wouldn't let us have the money unless there were both kinds of us.

H. O. said Alice wasn't a lady; and she said he wasn't going, anyway. Then he called her a disagreeable cat, and she began to cry.

But Oswald always tries to make up quarrels, so he said—


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Rh "You're little sillies, both of you!"

And Dora said, "Don't cry, Alice; he only meant you weren't a grown-up lady."

Then H. O. said, "What else did you think I meant, Disagreeable?"

So Dicky said, "Don't be disagreeable yourself, H. O. Let her alone and say you're sorry, or I'll jolly well make you!"

So H. O. said he was sorry. Then Alice kissed him and said she was sorry too; and after that H. O. gave her a hug, and said, "Now I'm really and truly sorry," so it was all right.

Noël went the last time any of us went to London, so he was out of it, and Dora said she would take him to Blackheath if we'd take H. O. So as there'd been a little disagreeableness we thought it was better to take him, and we did. At first we thought we'd tear our oldest things a bit more, and put some patches of different colours on them, to show the G. B. how much we wanted money. But Dora said that would be a sort of cheating, pretending we were poorer than we are. And Dora is right sometimes, though she is our elder sister. Then we thought we'd better wear our best things, so that the G. B. might see we weren't so very poor that he couldn't


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140 trust us to pay his money back when we had it. But Dora said that would be wrong too. So it came to our being quite honest, as Dora said, and going just as we were, without even washing our faces and hands; but when I looked at H. O. in the train I wished we had not been quite so particularly honest.

Every one who reads this knows what it is like to go in the train, so I shall not tell about it—though it was rather fun, especially the part where the guard came for the tickets at Waterloo, and H. O. was under the seat and pretended to be a dog without a ticket. We went to Charing Cross, and we just went round to Whitehall to see the soldiers and then by St James's for the same reason—and when we'd looked in the shops a bit we got to Brooke Street, Bond Street. It was a brass plate on a door next to a shop—a very grand place, where they sold bonnets and hats—all very bright and smart, and no tickets on them to tell you the price. We rang a bell and a boy opened the door and we asked for Mr Rosenbaum. The boy was not polite; he did not ask us in. So then Dicky gave him his visiting card; it was one of Father's really, but the name is the same, Mr Richard Bastable, and we others wrote our names underneath. I happened to


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Rh have a piece of pink chalk in my pocket and we wrote them with that.

Then the boy shut the door in our faces and we waited on the step. But presently he came down and asked our business. So Dicky said—

"Money advanced, young shaver! and don't be all day about it!"

And then he made us wait again, till I was quite stiff in my legs, but Alice liked it because of looking at the hats and bonnets, and at last the door opened, and the boy said—

"Mr Rosenbaum will see you," so we wiped our feet on the mat, which said so, and we went up stairs with soft carpets and into a room. It was a beautiful room. I wished then we had put on our best things, or at least washed a little. But it was too late now.

The room had velvet curtains and a soft, soft carpet, and it was full of the most splendid things. Black and gold cabinets, and china, and statues, and pictures. There was a picture of a cabbage and a pheasant and a dead hare that was just like life, and I would have given worlds to have it for my own. The fur was so natural I should never have been tired of looking at it; but Alice liked the one of the girl with the broken jug best. Then besides


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142 the pictures there were clocks and candlesticks and vases, and gilt looking-glasses, and boxes of cigars and scent and things littered all over the chairs and tables. It was a wonderful place, and in the middle of all the splendour was a little old gentleman with a very long black coat and a very long white beard and a hooky nose—like a falcon. And he put on a pair of gold spectacles and looked at us as if he knew exactly how much our clothes were worth. And then, while we elder ones were thinking how to begin, for we had all said "Good morning" as we came in, of course, H. O. began before we could stop him. He said:—

"'Are you the G. B.?"

"The what?" said the little old gentleman.

"The G. B.," said H. O., and I winked at him to shut up, but he didn't see me, and the G. B. did. He waved his hand at me to shut up, so I had to, and H. O. went on—

"It stands for Generous Benefactor."

The old gentleman frowned. Then he said, "Your Father sent you here, I suppose?"

"No he didn't," said Dicky. "Why did you think so?"

The old gentleman held out the card, and I explained that we took that because Father's name happens to be the same as Dicky's.


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Rh "Doesn't he know you've come?"

"No," said Alice, "we shan't tell him till we've got the partnership, because his own business worries him a good deal and we don't want to bother him with ours till it's settled, and then we shall give him half our share."

The old gentleman took off his spectacles and rumpled his hair with his hands, then he said, "Then what did you come for?"

"We saw your advertisement," Dicky said, "and we want a hundred pounds on our note of hand, and my sister came so that there should be both kinds of us; and we want it to buy a partnership with in the lucrative business for sale of useful patent. No personal attendance necessary."

"I don't think I quite follow you," said the G. B. "But one thing I should like settled before entering more fully into the matter: why did you call me Generous Benefactor?"

"Well, you see," said Alice, smiling at him to show she wasn't frightened, though I know really she was, awfully, "we thought it was so very kind of you to try to find out the poor people who want money and to help them and lend them your money."

"Hum!" said the G. B. "Sit down."

He cleared the clocks and vases and


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144 off some of the chairs, and we sat down. The chairs were velvety, with gilt legs. It was like a king's palace.

"Now," he said, "you ought to be at school, instead of thinking about money. Why aren't you?"

We told him that we should go to school again when Father could manage it, but meantime we wanted to do something to restore the fallen fortunes of the House of Bastable. And we said we thought the lucrative patent would be a very good thing. He asked a lot of questions, and we told him everything we didn't think Father would mind our telling, and at last he said—

"You wish to borrow money. When will you repay it?"

"As soon as we've got it, of course," Dicky said.

Then the G. B. said to Oswald, "You seem the eldest," but I explained to him that it was Dicky's idea, so my being eldest didn't matter. Then he said to Dicky—

"You are a minor, I presume?"

Dicky said he wasn't yet, but he had thought of being a mining engineer some day, and going to Klondike.

"Minor, not miner," said the G. B. "I mean you're not of age?"


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Rh "I shall be in ten years, though," said Dicky.

"Then you might repudiate the loan," said the G. B., and Dicky said "What?" Of course he ought to have said "I beg your pardon. I didn't quite catch what you said"—that is what Oswald would have said. It is more polite than "What."

"Repudiate the loan," the G. B repeated. "I mean you might say you would not pay me back the money, and the law could not compel you to do so."

"Oh, well, if you think we're such sneaks," said Dicky, and he got up off his chair. But the G. B. said, "Sit down, sit down; I was only joking."

Then he talked some more, and at last he said—

"I don't advise you to enter into that partnership. It's a swindle. Many advertisements are. And I have not a hundred pounds by me to-day to lend you. But I will lend you a pound, and you can spend it as you like. And when you are twenty-one you shall pay me back."

"I shall pay you back long before that," said Dicky. "Thanks, awfully! And what about the note of hand?"

"Oh," said the G. B., "I'll trust to your Rh


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146 honour. Between gentlemen, you know—and ladies"—he made a beautiful bow to Alice—"a word is as good as a bond."

Then he took out a sovereign, and held it in his hand while he talked to us. He gave us a lot of good advice about not going into business too young, and about doing our lessons—just swatting a bit, on our own hook, so as not to be put in a low form when we went back to school. And all the time he was stroking the sovereign and looking at it as if he thought it very beautiful. And so it was, for it was a new one. Then at last he held it out to Dicky, and when Dicky put out his hand for it the G. B. suddenly put the sovereign back in his pocket.

"No," he said, "I won't give you the sovereign. I'll give you fifteen shillings, and this nice bottle of scent. It's worth far more than the five shillings I'm charging you for it. And, when you can, you shall pay me back the pound, and sixty per cent interest—sixty per cent, sixty per cent——"

"What's that?" said H. O.

The G. B. said he'd tell us that when we paid back the sovereign, but sixty per cent was nothing to be afraid of. He gave Dicky the money. And the boy was made to call a


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Rh cab, and the G. B. put us in and shook hands with us all, and asked Alice to give him a kiss, so she did, and H. O. would do it too, though his face was dirtier than ever. The G. B. paid the cabman and told him what station to go to, and so we went home.

That evening Father had a letter by the seven o'clock post. And when he had read it he came up into the nursery. He did not look quite so unhappy as usual, but he looked grave.

"You've been to Mr. Rosenbaum's," he said.

So we told him all about it. It took a long time, and Father sat in the armchair. It was jolly. He doesn't often come and talk to us now. He has to spend all his time thinking about his business. And when we'd told him all about it he said—

"You haven't done any harm this time, children; rather good than harm, indeed. Mr. Rosenbaum has written me a very kind letter."

"Is he a friend of yours, Father?" Oswald asked.

"He is an acquaintance," said my father, frowning a little, "we have done some business together. And this letter" he stopped and then said: "No; you didn't do any harm to-day; but I want you for the future not to do anything so serious as to try to buy a


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148 partnership without consulting me, that's all. I don't want to interfere with your plays and pleasures; but you will consult me about business matters, won't you?"

Of course we said we should be delighted, but then Alice, who was sitting on his knee, said, "We didn't like to bother you."

Father said, "I haven't much time to be with you, for my business takes most of my time. It is an anxious business—but I can't bear to think of your being left all alone like this."

He looked so sad we all said we liked being alone. And then he looked sadder than ever.

Then Alice said, "We don't mean that exactly, Father. It is rather lonely sometimes, since Mother died."

Then we were all quiet a little while.

Father stayed with us till we went to bed, and when he said good-night he looked quite cheerful. So we told him so, and he said—

"Well, the fact is, that letter took a weight off my mind."

I can't think what he meant—but I am sure the G. B. would be pleased if he could know he had taken a weight off somebody's mind. He is that sort of man, I think.


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Rh We gave the scent to Dora. It is not quite such good scent as we thought it would be, but we had fifteen shillings—and they were all good, so is the G. B.

And until those fifteen shillings were spent we felt almost as jolly as though our fortunes had been properly restored. You do not notice your general fortune so much, as long as you have money in your pocket. This is why so many children with regular pocket-money have never felt it their duty to seek for treasure. So, perhaps, our not having pocket-money was a blessing in disguise. But the disguise was quite impenetrable, like the villains' in the books; and it seemed still more so when the fifteen shillings were all spent. Then at last the others agreed to let Oswald try his way of seeking for treasure, but they were not at all keen about it, and many a boy less firm than Oswald would have chucked the whole thing. But Oswald knew that a hero must rely on himself alone. So he stuck to it, and presently the others saw their duty, and backed him up.


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 FORDYCE, DAVID (1711–1751), professor at Aberdeen, born at Broadford, near Aberdeen, and baptised 1 April 1711, was the second son of George Fordyce of Broadford, provost of Aberdeen. After attending Aberdeen grammar school he was entered of Marischal College in 1724, where he went through a course of philosophy under Professor Daniel Garden, and of mathematics under Mr. John Stewart. He took his M.A. degree in 1728. Being intended for the church he next studied divinity under Professor James Chalmers, and obtained in due time license as a preacher, though he never received a call. In 1742 he was appointed professor of moral philosophy in Marischal College. By Dodsley he was employed to write the article 'Moral Philosophy' for the 'Modern Preceptor,' which was afterwards published separately as 'The Elements of Moral Philosophy,' 12mo, London, 1754. It reached a fourth edition in 1769, and was translated into German, 8vo, Zurich, 1757. Previously to this Fordyce had attracted some notice by his anonymous 'Dialogues concerning Education,' 2 vols. 8vo, London, 1745-8. In 1750 he made a tour through France, Italy, and other countries, and was returning home in September 1751 when he lost his life in a storm off the coast of Holland. His premature end is noticed by his brother, Dr. [q. v.], in one of his 'Addresses to the Deity,' and a bombastic epitaph from the same pen will be found in the 'Gentleman's Magazine' for 1796 (vol. lxvi. pt. ii. pp. 1052–1053). Fordyce's posthumous works are:
 * 1) 'Theodoras: a Dialogue concerning the art of Preaching,' 12mo, London, 1752, which was often reprinted, along with James Fordyce's ' Sermon on the Eloquence, and an Essay on the Action of the Pulpit.'
 * 2) ' The Temple of Virtue. A Dream [by D. Fordyce]. Published [with some additions] by James Fordyce,' 16mo, London, 1757 (other editions in 1759 and 1775).

 FORDYCE, GEORGE (1736–1802), physician, born at Aberdeen on 18 Nov. 1736, was the only and posthumous son of George Fordyce of Broadford, a small property near that city. His father was one of a family of twenty children, several of whom became well known, e.g., the professor of philosophy [q. v.];, the divine [q. v.]; Sir, the physician [q. v.]; and, also a physician. George Fordyce was sent to school at Fouran, and afterwards to the university of Aberdeen, where he became M.A. at the age, it is said, of fourteen. A year later he was sent to his uncle, Dr. John Fordyce of Uppingham, to prepare for the medical profession, and, after spending four years with him, entered as a medical student in the university of Edinburgh. Here he became a favourite pupil of Cullen, from whom he imbibed a fondness for chemistry and materia medica, as well as an insight into practical medicine. He graduated M.D. in October 1758 with a dissertation 'De Catarrho,' which shows considerable knowledge of chemistry and contains results which the author thought worth quoting in his public lectures thirty years later. Immediately afterwards he came to London, but in 1759 passed over to Leyden, where he studied anatomy under Albinus. Returning to London in the same year he resolved to settle there as a lecturer on medical science, a career which was at that time, owing to the absence of regular medical schools, a comparatively open oneBefore the end of the year he had commenced a course of lectures on chemistry, and in 1764 added courses on materia medica and the practice of physic. These subjects he continued to teach for nearly thirty years, lecturing on the three in succession from seven to ten on six mornings in the week the whole year through. Such arduous labour probably soon began to bear fruit, as we find that Fordyce married in 1762, and in after years his lectures were extremely popular, being attended successively by thousands of students, among them many who subsequently became distinguished. Several full copies of notes by his pupils still exist in manuscript.

Fordyce was admitted licentiate of the College of Physicians on 25 June 1765. Five years afterwards, a vacancy having occurred for a physician at St. Thomas's Hospital through the death of Akenside, Fordyce became a candidate, and, after a close contest with Dr. (afterwards Sir William) Watson, was elected on 11 July 1770 to that office, which he held till his death. In 1776 he was made F.R.S., and wrote several papers in the 'Philosophical Transactions.' In 1787 he was elected 'speciali gratia' fellow of the College of Physicians, the greater honour because at that time only graduates of English universities were generally eligible to the fellowship, and because Fordyce had been an active partisan of the licentiates in their


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One day when we suddenly found that we had half a crown we decided that we really ought to try Dicky's way of restoring our fallen fortunes while yet the deed was in our power. Because it might easily have happened to us never to have half a crown again. So we decided to dally no longer with being journalists and bandits and things like them, but to send for sample and instructions how to earn two pounds a week each in our spare time. We had seen the advertisement in the paper, and we had always wanted to do it, but we had never had the money to spare before, somehow. The advertisement says: "Any lady or gentleman can easily earn two pounds a week in their spare time. Sample and instructions, two 169


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170 shillings. Packed free from observation." A good deal of the half-crown was Dora's. It came from her godmother; but she said she would not mind letting Dicky have it if he would pay her back before Christmas, and if we were sure it was right to try to make our fortune that way. Of course that was quite easy, because out of two pounds a week in your spare time you can easily pay all your debts, and have almost as much left as you began with; and as to right we told her to dry up.

Dicky had always thought that this was really the best way to restore our fallen fortunes, and we were glad that now he had a chance of trying because of course we wanted the two pounds a week each, and besides, we were rather tired of Dicky's always saying, when our ways didn't turn out well, "Why don't you try the sample and instructions about our spare time?"

When we found out about our half-crown we got the paper. Noël was playing admirals in it, but he had made the cocked hat without tearing the paper, and we found the advertisement, and it said just the same as ever. So we got a two-shilling postal order and a stamp, and what was left of the money it was agreed


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Rh we would spend in ginger-beer to drink success to trade.

We got some nice paper out of Father's study, and Dicky wrote the letter, and we put in the money and put on the stamp, and made H. O. post it. Then we drank the ginger-beer, and then we waited for the sample and instructions. It seemed a long time coming, and the postman got quite tired of us running out and stopping him in the street to ask if it had come.

But on the third morning it came. It was quite a large parcel, and it was packed, as the advertisement said it would be, "free from observation." That means it was in a box; and inside the box was some stiff browny cardboard, crinkled like the galvanized iron on the tops of chicken-houses, and inside that was a lot of paper, some of it printed and some scrappy, and in the very middle of it all a bottle, not very large, and black, and sealed on the top of the cork with yellow sealing-wax.

We looked at it as it lay on the nursery table, and while all the others grabbed at the papers to see what the printing said, Oswald went to look for the corkscrew, so as to see what was inside the bottle. He found the


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172 corkscrew in the dresser drawer—it always gets there, though it is supposed to be in the sideboard drawer in the dining-room—and when he got back the others had read most of the printed papers.

"I don't think it's much good, and I don't think it's quite nice to sell wine," Dora said "and besides, it's not easy to suddenly begin to sell things when you aren't used to it."

"I don't know,' said Alice; 'I believe I could."

They all looked rather down in the mouth, though, and Oswald asked how you were to make your two pounds a week.

"Why, you've got to get people to taste that stuff in the bottle. It's sherry—Castilian Amoroso its name is—and then you get them to buy it, and then you write to the people and tell them the other people want the wine, and then for every dozen you sell you get two shillings from the wine people, so if you sell twenty dozen a week you get your two pounds. I don't think we shall sell as much as that," said Dicky.

"We might not the first week," Alice said, 'but when people found out how nice it was, they would want more and more.


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Rh And if we only got ten shillings a week it would be something to begin with, wouldn't it?"

Oswald said he should jolly well think it would, and then Dicky took the cork out with the corkscrew. The cork broke a good deal, and some of the bits went into the bottle. Dora got the medicine glass that has the teaspoons and tablespoons marked on it, and we agreed to have a teaspoonful each, to see what it was like.

"No one must have more than that," Dora said, "however nice it is." Dora behaved rather as if it were her bottle. I suppose it was, because she had lent the money for it.

Then she measured out the teaspoonful, and she had first go, because of being the eldest. We asked at once what it was like, but Dora could not speak just then.

Then she said, "It's like the tonic Noël had in the spring; but perhaps sherry ought to be like that."

Then it was Oswald's turn. He thought it was very burny; but he said nothing. He wanted to see first what the others would say.

Dicky said his was simply beastly, and Alice said Noël could taste next if he liked.


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174 Noël said it was the golden wine of the gods, but he had to put his handkerchief up to his mouth all the same, and I saw the face he made.

Then H. O. had his, and he spat it out in the fire, which was very rude and nasty, and we told him so.

Then it was Alice's turn. She said, "Only half a teaspoonful for me, Dora. We mustn't use it all up." And she tasted it and said nothing.

Then Dicky said: "Look here, I chuck this. I'm not going to hawk round such beastly stuff. Any one who likes can have the bottle. Quis?"

And Alice got out "Ego" before the rest of us. Then she said, "I know what's the matter with it. It wants sugar."

And at once we all saw that that was all there was the matter with the stuff. So we got two lumps of sugar and crushed it on the floor with one of the big wooden bricks till it was powdery, and mixed it with some of the wine up to the tablespoon mark, and it was quite different, and not nearly so nasty.

"You see it's all right when you get used to it," Dicky said. I think he was sorry he had said "Quis?" in such a hurry.