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Marsh Royal, obtained a grant of administration in July. By his wife Cecilia (d. January 1691) he left a daughter, Mary.

Four of Marsh's songs are in J. Playford's 'Choice Ayres,' bk. i. 1673 pp. 23, 29, 57, 1676 p. 45 one is in H. Playford's ' Theater of Mustek,' bk. iv. 1687, p. 53; and two are in H. Playford's ' Banquet of Mustek,' bk. i. 1688, p. 1, bk. ii. p. 11.

 MARSH, CHARLES (1774?–1835?), barrister, born about 1774, was younger son of Edward Marsh, a Norwich manufacturer, and received his education in the school there under Dr. Forster. On 5 Oct. 1792 he was admitted pensioner of St. John's College, Cambridge, but did not graduate. He became a student of Lincoln's Inn on 26 Sept. 1791, was called to the bar, and in 1804 went to Madras, where he practised with success. On his return to England he was elected M.P. for East Retford in the election of 1812, and distinguished himself by his knowledge of Indian affairs. On 1 July 1813 he spoke in a committee of the house in support of the amendment, moved by Sir Thomas Sutton, on the clause in the East India Bill providing further facilities for persons to go out to India for religious purposes, and denounced the injudicious attempt of Wilberforce and others to force Christianity on the natives. His speech, which occupies thirty-two columns of Hansard's 'Parliamentary Debates' (xxvi. 1018), has been described as 'one of the most pointed and vigorous philippics in any language' (Quarterly Review, lxx. 290). Marsh did not seek re-election at the dissolution of 1818. He is said to have died in the spring of 1835.

In his younger days Marsh was a contributor to 'The Cabinet. By a Society of Gentlemen,' 3 vols. 8vo, Norwich, 1795. He wrote also some able pamphlets, including 'An Appeal to the Public Spirit of Great Britain,' 8vo, London, 1803, and 'A Review of some important Passages in the late Administration of Sir George Hilaro Barlow, Bart., at Madras,' 8vo, London, 1813. His speech on the East India Bill was printed in pamphlet form in 1813, and also in vol. ii. of the 'Pamphleteer' (1813). To Marsh has been wrongly ascribed the famous 'Letters of Vetus' in the 'Times ' (1812) ; they were written by Edward Sterling, father of John Sterling (1806-1844) [q. v.] (, Works, xx. 27). He is also the reputed author of two lively volumes of gossip, entitled 'The Clubs of London ; with Anecdotes of their Members, Sketches of Character, and Conversations,' 8vo, London, 1828. A few of the anecdotes in vol. i. had already appeared in the 'New Monthly Magazine,' to which Marsh frequently contributed. He is not to be confounded with Charles Marsh (1735-1812), born in 1735, the only 'son of Charles Marsh, a London bookseller. He was admitted to Westminster School in 1748, whence he was elected to Trinity College, Cambridge, and in 1757 went out B.A. as tenth wrangler and senior classical medallist, becoming a fellow of his college. He proceeded M.A. in 1700, and subsequently obtained a clerkship in the war office, from which he retired, after many years' service, on a pension of 1 ,000l. a year, tie died, unmarried, in Piccadilly on 21 Jan. 1812, and was buried in Westminster Abbey. On 15 Jan. 1781 he was elected fellow of j the Society of Antiquaries, and in the ensuing May communicated to the society a Latin dissertation ' On the elegant ornamental Cameos of the Barberini Vase,' which was printed in the 'Archaeologia,' viii. 316-20 (Welch, Alumni Westmon. 1852, pp. 347, 360; Chester, Registers of Westminster Abbey, pp. 482, 504).  MARSH, FRANCIS (1627–1693), archbishop of Dublin, was born in or near Gloucester on 23 Oct. 1627. He was admitted as a pensioner at Emmanuel College, Cambridge, on 22 April 1642, and graduated B.A. in 1647, M.A. in 1650. On 14 Oct. 1651 he was elected a fellow of Caius College, and held the office of 'praelector rhetoricus' for 1651-2. He had a reputation for Greek, and for a knowledge of the Stoic philosophy, but his loyalist sympathies stood in the way of his further preferment. In February 1653 he obtained four months' leave of absence 'to go into Ireland,' probably with a view to take orders from one of the Irish bishops then in Dublin (perhaps John Leslie [q. v.], bishop of Raphoe); he must have been in orders by 11 Oct. 1653, when he was appointed dean. He was again 'praelector rhetoricus' in 1654-7, and remained in residence till April 1660. On 8 Oct. 1660 the king's letter was received, requesting the continuance of his fellowship 'so long as he should remain in the service of the Earl of Southampton,' then lord high treasurer. His return to Ireland was due to the patronage of Jeremy Taylor, who is said by Richard Mant [q. v.] to have given him orders, and


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two months, within a matter of three and fifty days, Kipps had clambered to the battlements of Heart's Desire.

It all became possible by the Walshinghams—it would seem at Coote's instigation—deciding, after all, not to spend the holidays at Bruges. Instead, they remained in Folkestone, and this happy chance gave Kipps just all these opportunities of which he stood in need.

His crowning day was at Lympne, and long before the summer warmth began to break, while indeed August still flamed on high. They had organized—no one seemed to know who suggested it first—a water party on the still reaches of the old military canal at Hythe, the canal that was to have stopped Napoleon if the sea failed us, and they were to picnic by the brick bridge, and afterwards to clamber to Lympne Castle. The host of the gathering, it was understood very clearly, was Kipps.

They went, a merry party. The canal was weedy, with only a few inches of water at the shallows, and

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CH. III so they went in three Canadian canoes. Kipps had learned to paddle—it had been his first athletic accomplishment, and his second—with the last three or four of ten private lessons still to come—was to be cycling. But Kipps did not paddle at all badly; muscles hardened by lifting pieces of cretonne could cut a respectable figure by the side of Coote's executions, and the girl with the freckles, the girl who understood him, came in his canoe. They raced the Walshinghams, brother and sister; and Coote, in a liquefying state and blowing mightily, but still persistent and always quite polite and considerate, toiled behind with Mrs. Walshingham. She could not be expected to paddle (though, of course, she "offered") and she reclined upon specially adjusted cushions under a black and white sunshade and watched Kipps and her daughter, and feared at intervals that Coote was getting hot.

They were all more or less in holiday costume, the eyes of the girls looked out under the shade of wide-brimmed hats; even the freckled girl was unexpectedly pretty, and Helen, swinging sunlit to her paddle, gave Kipps, almost for the first time, the suggestion of a graceful body. Kipps was arrayed in the completest boating costume, and when his fashionable Panama was discarded and his hair blown into disorder he became, in his white flannels, as sightly as most young men. His complexion was a notable asset.

Things favoured him, the day favoured him, everyone favoured him. Young Walshingham, the girl

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220 with the freckles, Coote and Mrs. Walshingham, were playing up to him in the most benevolent way, and between the landing place and Lympne, Fortune, to crown their efforts, had placed a small, convenient field entirely at the disposal of an adolescent bull. Not a big, real, resolute bull, but, on the other hand, no calf; a young bull, in the same stage of emotional development as Kipps, "standing where the two rivers meet." Detachedly our party drifted towards him.

When they landed young Walshingham, with the simple directness of a brother, abandoned his sister to Kipps and secured the freckled girl, leaving Coote to carry Mrs. Walshingham's light wool wrap. He started at once, in order to put an effectual distance between himself and his companion, on the one hand, and a certain persuasive chaperonage that went with Coote, on the other. Young Walshingham, I think I have said, was dark, with a Napoleonic profile, and it was natural for him, therefore, to be a bold thinker and an epigrammatic speaker, and he had long ago discovered great possibilities of appreciation in the freckled girl. He was in a very happy frame that day because he had just been entrusted with the management of Kipps' affairs (old Bean inexplicably dismissed), and that was not a bad beginning for a solicitor of only a few months' standing, and, moreover, he had been reading Nietzsche, and he thought that in all probability he was the Non-Moral Overman referred to by that writer. He wore fairly

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CH. III hats. He wanted to expand the theme of the Non-Moral Overman in the ear of the freckled girl, to say it over, so to speak, and in order to seclude his exposition they went aside from the direct path and trespassed through a coppice, avoiding the youthful bull. They escaped to these higher themes but narrowly, for Coote and Mrs. Walshingham, subtle chaperones both, and each indisposed for excellent reasons to encumber Kipps and Helen, were hot upon their heels. These two kept direct route to the stile of the bull's field, and the sight of the animal at once awakened Coote's innate aversion to brutality in any shape or form. He said the stiles were too high, and that they could do better by going around by the hedge, and Mrs. Walshingham, nothing loath, agreed.

This left the way clear for Kipps and Helen, and they encountered the bull. Helen did not observe the bull, but Kipps did; but, that afternoon at any rate, he was equal to facing a lion. And the bull really came at them. It was not an affair of the bull-ring exactly, no desperate rushes and gorings; but he came; he regarded them with a large, wicked, bluish eye, opened a mouth below his moistly glistening nose and booed, at any rate, if he did not exactly bellow, and he shook his head wickedly and showed that tossing was in his mind. Helen was frightened, without any loss of dignity, and Kipps went extremely white. But he was perfectly calm, and he seemed to her to have lost the last vestiges of his accent and his social shakiness. He directed her to walk quietly towards

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222 the stile, and made an oblique advance towards the bull.

"You be orf!" he said.…

When Helen was well over the stile Kipps withdrew in good order. He got over the stile under cover of a feint, and the thing was done—a small thing, no doubt, but just enough to remove from Helen's mind an incorrect deduction that a man who was so terribly afraid of a teacup as Kipps must necessarily be abjectly afraid of everything else in the world. In her moment of reaction she went perhaps too far in the opposite direction. Hitherto Kipps had always had a certain flimsiness of effect for her. Now suddenly he was discovered solid. He was discovered possible in many new ways. Here, after all, was the sort of back a woman can get behind! …

As so these heirs of the immemorial ages went past the turf-crowned mass of Portus Lemanus up the steep slopes towards the mediæval castle on the crest the thing was also manifest in her eyes.

Everyone who stays in Folkstone gets, sooner or later, to Lympne. The castle became a farmhouse long ago, and the farmhouse, itself now ripe and venerable, wears the walls of the castle as a little man wears a big man's coat. The kindliest of farm ladies entertains a perpetual stream of visitors and shows her vast mangle, and her big kitchen, and takes you

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CH. III out upon the sunniest little terrace garden in all the world, and you look down the sheep-dotted slopes to where, beside the canal and under the trees, the crumpled memories of Rome sleep forever. For hither to this lonely spot the galleys once came, the legions, the emperors, masters of the world. The castle is but a thing of yesterday. King Stephen's time or thereabout, in that retrospect. One climbs the pitch of perforation, and there one is lifted to the centre of far more than a hemisphere of view. Away below one's feet, almost at the bottom of the hill, the Marsh begins, and spreads and spreads in a mighty crescent that sweeps about the sea, the Marsh dotted with the church towers of forgotten mediæval towns and breaking at last into the low, blue hills of Winchelsea and Hastings; east hangs France, between the sea and the sky, and round the north, bounding the wide prospectives of farms and houses and woods, the Downs, with their hangers and chalk pits, sustain the passing shadows of the sailing clouds.

And here it was, high out of the world of everyday, and in the presence of spacious beauty, that Kipps and Helen found themselves agreeably alone. All six, it had seemed, had been coming for the Keep, but Mrs. Walshingham had hesitated at the horrid little stairs, and then suddenly felt faint, and so she and the freckled girl had remained below, walking up and down in the shadow of the house, and Coote had remembered they were all out of cigarettes, and had taken off young Walshingham into the village.

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224 There had been shouting to explain between ground and parapet, and then Helen and Kipps turned again to the view, and commended it and fell silent.

Helen sat fearlessly in an embrasure, and Kipps stood beside her.

"I've always been fond of scenery," Kipps repeated, after an interval.

Then he went off at a tangent. "D'you reely think that was right what Coote was saying?"

She looked interrogation.

"About my name?"

"Being really C-U-Y-P-S? I have my doubts. I thought at first. What makes Mr. Coote add an S to Cuyp?"

"I dunno," said Kipps, foiled. "I was jest thinking"

She shot one wary glance at him and then turned her eyes to the sea. Kipps was out for a space. He had intended to lead from this question to the general question of surnames and change of names; it had seemed a light and witty way of saying something he had in mind, and suddenly he perceived that this was an unutterably vulgar and silly project. The hitch about that "s" had saved him. He regarded her profile for a moment, framed in weather-beaten stone, and backed by the blue elements.

He dropped the question of his name out of existence and spoke again of the view. "When I see

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CH. III scenery, and things that are beautiful, it makes me feel"

She looked at him suddenly, and saw him fumbling for his words.

"Silly like," he said.

She took him in with her glance, the old look of proprietorship it was, touched with a certain warmth. She spoke in a voice as unambiguous as her eyes. "You needn't," she said. "You know, Mr. Kipps, you hold yourself too cheap."

Her eyes and words smote him with amazement. He stared at her like a man who awakens. She looked down.

"You mean" he said; and then, "don't you hold me cheap?"

She glanced up again and shook her head.

"But—for instance—you don't think of me—as an equal like."

"Why not?"

"Oo! But reely"

His heart beat very fast.

"If I thought," he said, and then, "you know so much."

"That's nothing," she said.

Then, for a long time, as it seemed to them, both kept silence, a silence that said and accomplished many things.

"I know what I am," he said, at length.… If I thought it was possible … If I thought you … I believe I could do anything"

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Author talk:Wilhelm L. Fischer

Obituary
American Gardening: A Weekly Illustrated Journal of Horticulture and Gardeners' Chronicle.

Vol. XX. December 2, 1899. No. 258.

William L. Fischer, a landscape gardener, who, under Frederick Olmstead, designed a large number of the plantations of the Boston Park system, died on November 20, at Union Terrace, Forest Hills. Mr. Fischer was born in Karlsrube, Baden, Germany, in 1819, where he studied landscape gardening. Before coming to this country he worked on the estate of the Duke of Devonshire, in England.

Upon settling in America he opened a horticultural establishment, and in 1856 went to work for the Park Department of New York City, being employed in Central Park as a foreman gardener and afterward a superintendent gardener. He continued there until 1884, when he went to Boston and Mr. Olmstead made him his assistant, in which capacity he served until 1896. He leaves a widow, three sons and one daughter.

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226 He stopped, and she sat downcast and strikingly still.

"Miss Walshingham," he said, "is it possible that you … could care for me enough to—to 'elp me? Miss Walshingham, do you care for me at all?"

It seemed she was never going to answer. She looked up at him. "I think," she said, "you are the most generous—look at what you have done for my brother—the most generous and the most modest of men. And this afternoon—I thought you were the bravest."

She turned her head, glanced down, waved her hand to someone on the terrace below, and stood up.

"Mother is signalling," she said. "We must go down."

Kipps became polite and deferential by habit, but his mind was a tumult that had nothing to do with that.

He moved before her towards the little door that opened on the winding stairs—"always precede a lady down or up stairs"—and then on the second step he turned resolutely. "But," he said, looking up out of the shadow, flannel-clad and singularly like a man.

She looked down on him, with her hand upon the stone lintel.

He held out his hand as if to help her. "Can you tell me?" he said. "You must know"

"What?"

"If you care for me?"

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CH. III She did not answer for a long time. It was as if everything in the world had drawn to the breaking point, and in a minute must certainly break.

"Yes," she said, at last, "I know."

Abruptly, by some impalpable sign, he knew what the answer would be, and he remained still.

She bent down over him and softened to her wonderful smile.

"Promise me," she insisted.

He promised with his still face.

"If I do not hold you cheap, you will never hold yourself cheap"

"If you do not hold me cheap, you mean?"

She bent down quite close beside him. "I hold you," she said, and then whispered, "dear."

"Me?"

She laughed aloud.

He was astonished beyond measure. He stipulated, lest there might be some misconception, "You will marry me?"

She was laughing, inundated by the sense of bountiful power, of possession and success. He looked quite a nice little man to have. "Yes," she laughed. "What else could I mean?" and, "Yes."

He felt as a praying hermit might have felt, snatched from the midst of his quiet devotions, his modest sackcloth and ashes, and hurled neck and crop over the glittering gates of Paradise, smack among the iridescent wings, the bright-eyed Cherubim. He

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228 felt like some lowly and righteous man dynamited into Bliss.…

His hand tightened upon the rope that steadies one upon the stairs of stone. He was for kissing her hand and did not.

He said not a word more. He turned about, and with something very like a scared expression on his face led the way into the obscurity of their descent.

Everyone seemed to understand. Nothing was said, nothing was explained, the merest touch of the eyes sufficed. As they clustered in the castle gateway Coote, Kipps remembered afterwards, laid hold of his arm as if by chance and pressed it. It was quite evident he knew. His eyes, his nose, shone with benevolent congratulations, shone, too, with the sense of a good thing conducted to its climax. Mrs. Walshingham, who had seemed a little fatigued by the hill, recovered, and was even obviously stirred by affection for her daughter. There was, in passing, a motherly caress. She asked Kipps to give her his arm in walking down the steep. Kipps in a sort of dream obeyed. He found himself trying to attend to her, and soon he was attending.

She and Kipps talked like sober, responsible people and went slowly, while the others drifted down the hill together, a loose little group of four. He wondered momentarily what they would talk about and then sank into his conversation with Mrs.

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CH. III. He conversed, as it were, out of his superficial personality, and his inner self lay stunned in unsuspected depths within. It had an air of being an interesting and friendly talk, almost their first long talk together. Hitherto he had had a sort of fear of Mrs. Walshingham, as of a person possibly satirical, but she proved a soul of sense and sentiment, and Kipps, for all of his abstraction, got on with her unexpectedly well. They talked a little upon scenery and the inevitable melancholy attaching to the old ruins and the thought of vanished generations.

"Perhaps they jousted here," said Mrs. Walshingham.

"They was up to all sorts of things," said Kipps, and then the two come round to Helen. She spoke of her daughter's literary ambitions. "She will do something, I feel sure. You know, Mr. Kipps, it's a great responsibility to a mother to feel her daughter is—exceptionally clever."

"I dessay it is," said Kipps. "There's no mistake about that."

She spoke, too, of her son—almost like Helen's twin—alike, yet different. She made Kipps feel quite fatherly. "They are so quick, so artistic," she said, "so full of ideas. Almost they frighten me. One feels they need opportunities—as other people need air."

She spoke of Helen's writing. "Even when she was quite a little dot she wrote verse."

(Kipps, sensation.)

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230 "Her father had just the same tastes" Mrs. Walshingham turned a little beam of half-pathetic reminiscence on the past. "He was more artist than business man. That was the trouble.… He was misled by his partner, and when the crash came everyone blamed him.… Well, it doesn't do to dwell on horrid things—especially to-day. There are bright days, Mr. Kipps, and dark days. And mine have not always been bright."

Kipps presented a face of Coote-like sympathy.

She diverged to talk of flowers, and Kipps' mind was filled with the picture of Helen bending down towards him in the Keep.…

They spread the tea under the trees before the little inn, and at a certain moment Kipps became aware that everyone in the party was simultaneously and furtively glancing at him. There might have been a certain tension had it not been first of all for Coote and his tact, and afterwards for a number of wasps. Coote was resolved to make this memorable day pass off well, and displayed an almost boisterous sense of fun. Then young Walshingham began talking of the Roman remains below Lympne, intending to lead up to the Overman. "These old Roman chaps," he said, and then the wasps arrived. They killed three in the jam alone.

Kipps killed wasps, as if it were in a dream, and handed things to the wrong people, and maintained a thin surface of ordinary intelligence with the utmost difficulty. At times he became aware, aware with an

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CH. III extraordinary vividness, of Helen. Helen was carefully not looking at him and behaving with amazing coolness and ease. But just for that one time there was the faintest suggestion of pink beneath the ivory of her cheeks.…

Tacitly the others conceded to Kipps the right to paddle back with Helen; he helped her into the canoe and took his paddle, and, paddling slowly, dropped behind the others. And now his inner self stirred again. He said nothing to her. How could he ever say anything to her again? She spoke to him at rare intervals about reflections and the flowers and the trees, and he nodded in reply. But his mind moved very slowly forward now from the point at which it had fallen stunned in the Lympne Keep, moving forward to the beginnings of realisation. As yet he did not say even in the recesses of his heart that she was his. But he perceived that the goddess had come from her altar amazingly, and had taken him by the hand!

The sky was a vast splendour, and then close to them were the dark, protecting trees and the shining, smooth, still water. He was an erect, black outline to her; he plied his paddle with no unskilful gesture, the water broke to snaky silver and glittered far behind his strokes. Indeed, he did not seem bad to her. Youth calls to youth the wide world through, and her soul rose in triumph over his subjection. And behind him was money and opportunity, freedom and London, a great background of seductively indistinct

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232 hopes. To him her face was a warm dimness. In truth, he could not see her eyes, but it seemed to his love-witched brain he did and that they shone out at him like dusky stars.

All the world that evening was no more than a shadowy frame of darkling sky and water and dripping bows about Helen. He seemed to see through things with an extraordinary clearness; she was revealed to him certainly, as the cause and essence of it all.

He was indeed at his Heart's Desire. It was one of those times when there seems to be no future, when Time has stopped and we are at an end. Kipps, that evening, could not have imagined a to-morrow, all that his imagination had pointed towards was attained. His mind stood still and took the moments as they came.

About nine that night Coote came around to Kipps' new apartment in the Upper Sandgate Road—the house on the Leas had been let furnished—and Kipps made an effort toward realisation. He was discovered sitting at the open window and without a lamp, quite still. Coote was deeply moved, and he pressed Kipps' palm and laid a knobby, white hand on his shoulder and displayed the sort of tenderness becoming in a crisis. Kipps was too moved that night, and treated Coote like a very dear brother.

"She's splendid," said Coote, coming to it abruptly.

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CH. III "Isn't she?" said Kipps.

"I couldn't help noticing her face," said Coote.… "You know, my dear Kipps, that this is better than a legacy."

"I don't deserve it," said Kipps.

"You can't say that."

"I don't. I can't 'ardly believe it. I can't believe it at all. No!"

There followed an expressive stillness.

"It's wonderful," said Kipps. "It takes me like that."

Coote made a faint blowing noise, and so again they came for a time of silence.

"And it began—before your money?"

"When I was in 'er class," said Kipps, solemnly.

Coote, speaking out of a darkness which he was illuminating strangely with efforts to strike a match, said that it was beautiful. He could not have wished Kipps a better fortune.…

He lit a cigarette, and Kipps was moved to do the same, with a sacramental expression. Presently speech flowed more freely.

Coote began to praise Helen and her mother and brother. He talked of when "it" might be, he presented the thing as concrete and credible. "It's a county family, you know," he said. "She is connected, you know, with the Beaupres family—you know Lord Beaupres."

"No!" said Kipps, "reely!"

"Distantly, of course," said Coote. Still"

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234 He smiled a smile that glimmered in the twilight.

"It's too much," said Kipps, overcome. "It's so all like that."

Coote exhaled. For a time Kipps listened to Helen's praises and matured a point of view.

"I say, Coote," he said. "What ought I to do now?"

"What do you mean?" said Coote.

"I mean about calling on 'er and all that."

He reflected. "Naturally, I want to do it all right."

"Of course," said Coote.

"It would be awful to go and do something—now—all wrong."

Coote's cigarette glowed as he meditated. "You must call, of course," he decided. "You'll have to speak to Mrs, Walshingham."

"'Ow?" said Kipps.

"Tell her you mean to marry her daughter."

"I dessay she knows," said Kipps, with defensive penetration.

Coote's head was visible, shaking itself judiciously.

"Then there's the ring," said Kipps. "What 'ave I to do about that?"

"What ring do you mean?"

"'Ngagement Ring. There isn't anything at all about that in 'Manners and Rules of Good Society'—not a word."

"Of course you must get something—tasteful. Yes."

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CH. III "What sort of a ring?"

"Something nace. They'll show you in the shop."

"Of course. I 'spose I got to take it to 'er, eh? Put it on her finger."

"Oh, no! Send it. Much better."

"Ah!" said Kipps, for the first time, with a note of relief.

"Then, 'ow about this call—on Mrs. Walshingham, I mean. 'Ow ought one to go?"

"Rather a ceremonial occasion," reflected Coote.

"Wadyer mean? Frock coat?"

"I think so," said Coote, with discrimination.

"Light trousers and all that?"

"Yes."

"Rose?"

"I think it might run to a buttonhole."

The curtain that hung over the future became less opaque to the eyes of Kipps. To-morrow, and then other days, became perceptible at least as existing. Frock coat, silk hat and a rose! With a certain solemnity he contemplated himself in the process of slow transformation into an English gentleman, Arthur Cuyps, frock-coated on occasions of ceremony, the familiar acquaintance of Lady Punnet, the recognised wooer of a distant connection of the Earl of Beaupres.

Something like awe at the magnitude of his own fortune came upon him. He felt the world was opening out like a magic flower in a transformation scene at the touch of this wand of gold. And Helen,

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236 nestling beautiful in the red heart of the flower. Only ten weeks ago he had been no more than the shabbiest of improvers and shamefully dismissed for dissipation, the mere soil-burned seed, as it were, of these glories. He resolved the engagement ring should be of expressively excessive quality and appearance, in fact, the very best they had.

"Ought I to send 'er flowers?" he speculated.

"Not necessarily," said Coote. "Though, of course, it's an attention." …

Kipps meditated on flowers.

"When you see her," said Coote, "you'll have to ask her to name the day."

Kipps started. "That won't be just yet a bit, will it?"

"Don't know any reason for delay."

"Oo, but—a year, say."

"Rather a long time," said Coote.

"Is it?" said Kipps, turning his head sharply. "But"

There was quite a long pause.

"I say," he said, at last, and in an unaltered voice, "you'll 'ave to 'elp me about the wedding."

"Only too happy," said Coote.

"Of course," said Kipps, "I didn't think" He changed his line of thought. "Coote," he asked, "wot's a 'state-eh-tate'?"

"A 'tate-ah-tay'!" said Coote, improvingly, "is a conversation alone together."

"Lor'!" said Kipps, "but I thought. It says

title: Page:Kipps.djvu/248


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CH. III strictly we oughtn't to enjoy a tater-tay, not sit together, walk together, ride together or meet during any part of the day. That don't leave much time for meeting, does it?"

"The books says that?" asked Coote.

"I jest learnt it by 'eart before you came. I thought that was a bit rum, but I s'pose it's all right."

"You won't find Miss Walshingham so strict as all that," said Coote. "I think that's a bit extreme. They'd only do that now in very strict old aristocratic families. Besides, the Walshinghams are so modern—advanced, you might say. I expect you'll get plenty of chances of talking together."

"There's a tremendous lot to think about," said Kipps, blowing a profound sigh. "D'you mean—p'raps we might be married in a few months or so."

"You'll have to be," said Coote. "Why not?" …

Midnight found Kipps alone, looking a little tired and turning over the leaves of the red-covered textbook with a studious expression. He paused for a moment on page 233, his eye caught by the words:

"FOR AN UNCLE OR AUNT BY MARRIAGE the period is six weeks black, with jet trimmings."

"No," said Kipps, after a vigorous mental effort. "That's not it." The pages rustled again. He stopped and flattened out the little book decisively at the beginning of the chapter on "Weddings."

He became pensive. He stared at the lamp wick.

title: Page:Kipps.djvu/249


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238 "I suppose I ought to go over and tell them," he said, at last.

Kipps called on Mrs. Walshingham, attired in the proper costume for eremonial [sic] Occasions in the Day. He carried a silk hat, and he wore a deep-skirted frock coat, his boots were patent leather and his trousers dark grey. He had generous white cuffs with gold links, and his grey gloves, one thumb in which had burst when he put them on, he held loosely in his hand. He carried a small umbrella rolled to an exquisite tightness. A sense of singular correctness pervaded his being and warred with the enormity of the occasion for possession of his soul. Anon he touched his silk cravat. The world smelt of his rosebud.

He seated himself on a new re-covered chintz armchair and stuck out the elbow of the arm that held his hat.

"I know," said Mrs. Walshingham, "I know everything," and helped him out most amazingly. She deepened the impression he had already received of her sense and refinement. She displayed an amount of tenderness that touched him.

"This is a great thing," she said, "to a mother," and her hand rested for a moment on his impeccable coat sleeve.

"A daughter, Arthur," she explained, "is so much more than a son."

Marriage, she said, was a lottery, and without love

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CH. III and toleration there was much unhappiness. Her life had not always been bright—there had been dark days and bright days. She smiled rather sweetly. "This is a bright one," she said.

She said very kind and flattering things to Kipps, and she thanked him for his goodness to her son. ("That wasn't anything," said Kipps.) And then she expanded upon the theme of her two children. "Both so accomplished," she said, "so clever. I call them my Twin Jewels."

She was repeating a remark that she had made at Lympne, that she always said her children needed opportunities, as other people needed air, when she was abruptly arrested by the entry of Helen. They hung on a pause, Helen perhaps surprised by Kipps' weekday magnificence. Then she advanced with outstretched hand.

Both the young people were shy. "I jest called 'round," began Kipps, and became uncertain how to end.

"Won't you have some tea?" asked Helen.

She walked to the window, looked out at the familiar outporter's barrow, turned, surveyed Kipps for a moment ambiguously, said "1 will get some tea," and so departed again.

Mrs. Walshingham and Kipps looked at one another and the lady smiled indulgently. "You two young people mustn't be shy of each other," said Mrs. Walshingham, which damaged Kipps considerably.

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240 She was explaining how sensitive Helen always had been, even about quite little things, when the servant appeared with the tea things, and then Helen followed, and taking up a secure position behind the little banboo [sic] tea table, broke the ice with officious teacup clattering. Then she introduced the topic of a forthcoming open-air performance of "As You Like It," and steered past the worst of the awkwardness. They discussed stage illusion. "I mus' say," said Kipps, "I don't quite like a play in a theayter. It seems sort of unreal, some'ow."

"But most plays are written for the stage," said Helen, looking at the sugar.

"I know," admitted Kipps.

They finished tea. "Well," said Kipps, and rose.

"You mustn't go yet," said Mrs. Walshingham, rising and taking his hand. "I'm sure you two must have heaps to say to each other," and so she escaped towards the door.

Among other projects that seemed almost equally correct to Kipps at that exalted moment was one of embracing Helen with ardour as soon as the door closed behind her mother and one of headlong flight through the open window. Then he remembered he ought to hold the door open for Mrs. Walshingham, and turned from that duty to find Helen still standing, beautifully inaccessible, behind the tea things. He closed the door and advanced toward her with his arms akimbo and his hands upon his coat skirts.

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CH. III Then, feeling angular, he moved his right hand to his moustache. Anyhow, he was dressed all right. Somewhere at the back of his mind, dim and mingled with doubt and surprise, appeared the perception that he felt now quite differently towards her, that something between them had been blown from Lympne Keep to the four winds of heaven.…

She regarded him with an eye of critical proprietorship.

"Mother has been making up to you," she said, smiling slightly.

She added, "It was nice of you to come around to see her."

They stood through a brief pause, as though each had expected something different in the other and was a little perplexed at its not being there. Kipps found he was at the corner of the brown covered table, and he picked up a little flexible book that lay upon it to occupy his mind.

"I bought you a ring to-day," he said, bending the book and speaking for the sake of saying something, and then he was moved to genuine speech. "You know," he said, "I can't 'ardly believe it."

Her face relaxed slightly again. "No?" she said, and may have breathed, "Nor I."

"No," he went on. "It's as though everything 'ad changed. More even than when I got my money. 'Ere we are going to marry. It's like being someone else. What I feel is"

He turned a flushed and earnest face to her. He

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242 seemed to come alive to her with one natural gesture. "I don't know things. I'm not good enough. I'm not refined. The more you'll see of me the more you'll find me out."

"But I'm going to help you."

"You'll 'ave to 'elp me a fearful lot."

She walked to the window, glanced out of it, made up her mind, turned and came towards him, with her hands clasped behind her back.

"All these things that trouble you are very little things. If you don't mind—if you will let me tell you things"

"I wish you would."

"Then I will."

"They're little things to you, but they aren't to me."

"It all depends, if you don't mind being told."

"By you?"

"I don't expect you to be told by strangers."

"Oo!" said Kipps, expressing much.

"You know, there are just a few little things. For instance, you know, you are careless with your pronunciation.… You don't mind my telling you?"

"I like it," said Kipps.

"There's aitches."

"I know," said Kipps, and then, endorsingly, "I been told. Fact is, I know a chap, a Nacter, he's told me. He's told me, and he's going to give me a lesso nor [sic] so."

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CH. III "I'm glad of that. It only requires a little care."

"Of course. On the stage they got to look out. They take regular lessons."

"Of course," said Helen, a little absently.

"I dessay I shall soon get into it," said Kipps.

"And then there's dress," said Helen, taking up her thread again.

Kipps became pink, but he remained respectfully attentive.

"You don't mind?" she said.

"Oo, no."

"You mustn't be too—too dressy. It's possible to be over-conventional, over-elaborate. It makes you look like a shop—like a common, well-off person. There's a sort of easiness that is better. A real gentleman looks right, without looking as though he had tried to be right."

"Jest as though 'e'd put on what came first?" said the pupil, in a faded voice.

"Not exactly that, but a sort of ease."

Kipps nodded his head intelligently. In his heart he was kicking his silk hat about the room in an ecstasy of disappointment.

"And you must accustom yourself to be more at your ease when you are with people," said Helen, "You've only got to forget yourself a little and not be anxious"

"I'll try," said Kipps, looking rather hard at the teapot. "I'll do my best to try."

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244 "I know you will," she said, and laid a hand for an instant upon his shoulder and withdrew it.

He did not perceive her caress. "One has to learn," he said. His attention was distracted by the strenuous efforts that were going on in the back of his head to translate, "I say, didn't you ought to name the day?" into easy as well as elegant English, a struggle that was still undecided when the time came for them to part.…

He sat for a long time at the open window of his sitting-room with an intent face, recapitulating that interview. His eyes rested at last almost reproachfully on the silk hat beside him. "'Ow is one to know?" he asked. His attention was caught by a rubbed place in the nap, and, still thoughtful, he rolled up his handkerchief skilfully into a soft ball and began to smooth this down.

His expression changed slowly. "'Ow the Juice is one to know?" he said, putting down the hat with some emphasis.

He rose up, went across the room to the sideboard, and, standing there, opened and began to read "Manners and Rules."

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text: Kipps/Book 2/Chapter 3

title: Kipps/Book 2/Chapter 3


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Page:The Religion of Ancient Egypt.djvu/196

 as ploughing and hoeing, sowing and reaping, rowing on the canals and collecting the harvests daily. Warriors and kings who in the course of ages had risen to the head of a mighty empire, still looked forward towards these delights with the same religious faith which inspired them when, on the great panegyrical festival of the ithyphallic Amon, they received the iron sickle from the hands of a priestly ministrant, cut the ears of cORN, and presented them as an offering to the god presiding over vegetation and increase. We are told that the height of the corn in the fields of Aarru is seven cubits, and that that of the ears is two (in some readings, four) cubits. This blissful place is surrounded by a wall of steel, and it is from its gate that the sun comes forth in the eastern sky.

Transformation.

2. But the happy dead is not confined to this locality, or to the human form, or to an earthly mode of existence. He has the range of the entire universe in every shape and form that he desires. This is repeatedly stated in the Book of the Dead, and twelve of the chapters consist of formulas through which certain transformations are operated. The forms assumed, according to these chapters, are the turtle-dove, the


text: Dictionary of National Biography, 1885-1900/O'Neill, Hugh (d.1230)


text:
Author:Leslie W. Quirk

Works

 * Playing the game
 * Le spectre de Salem
 * The third strike
 * The freshman eight
 * Into thin air
 * How to write a Short Story: an exposition of the technique of short fiction (1904)
 * Freshman Dorn, pitcher
 * Baby Elton, quarter-back
 * Baby Elton, quarter-back

title: Author:Leslie W. Quirk


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text: Page:Paré - Works, 1649.djvu/890

title: Page:Paré - Works, 1649.djvu/890


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text: Page:Philosophical Transactions - Volume 145.djvu/435


text: Page:Paré - Works, 1649.djvu/855

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text: Page:Paré - Works, 1649.djvu/869

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text:
Page:Poetical works of Mathilde Blind.djvu/113

 THE HEATHER ON FIRE


text:
Page:Poetical works of Mathilde Blind.djvu/181

 THE ASCENT OF MAN


text:
Page:Poetical works of Mathilde Blind.djvu/437

 LYRICAL POEMS


text: Page:Political and legal remedies for war.djvu/9


text:
Author talk:Leslie W. Quirk

=sources= Checking a wide range of genealogical records for this person appears to represent as Leslie W. Quirk, never with a complete middle name. Military records, directories, delayed birth, etc. Earliest record found is 1900 census, aged 18, and says Leslie W. Quirk. — billinghurst  sDrewth  00:26, 5 September 2019 (UTC)

death
Name: 	Leslie Quirk Gender: 	Male Birth Date: 	12 May 1882 Death Date: 	28 Nov 1960 Death Place: 	Los Angeles Mother's Maiden Name: 	Dudgeon
 * State of California. California Death Index, 1940-1997.

title: Author talk:Leslie W. Quirk


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Page:Paradisi in sole paradisus terrestris (1904 reprint).djvu/468

The Names.

It is called of some Nardus Italica, and Lavendula, the greater is called Farmina, and the lesser Mas. We doe call them generally Lavender, or Lavender Spike, and the less Spike, without any other addition.

The Vertues.

Lavender is little used in inward physicke, but outwardly; the oyle for cold and benammed parts, and is almost wholly spend with us for to perfume linnen, apparrell, gloves, leather, &c. and the dryed flowers to comfort and dry up the moisture of a cold braine.

Staechas. Sticadoue, Caffidony, or French Lavender.

CAffidony that groweth in the Gardens of our Countrey, may peradventure somewhat differ in colour, as well as in strength, from that which groweth in hotter Countries; but as it is with us, it is more tender a great deale then Lavender, and groweth rather like an herbe then a bulb or shrub, not above a foote and a halfe high, or thereabouts, having many narrow long greene leaves like Lavender, but softer and smaller, set at several distances together about the stalkes, which spread abroad into branches: at the tops whereof stand long and round, and sometimes foure square heads, of a darke greenish purple colour, compact of many scales set together; from among which come forth the flowers, of a blewish purple colour, after which follow seede vessels, which are somewhat whitish when they are ripe, containing blackish browne seede within them: the roote is somewhat wooddy, and will hardly abide the injuries of our cold Winters, except in some places onely, or before it have flowered: The whole plant is somewhat sweete, but nothing so much as Lavender.

The Place.

Cuffidany groweth in the Islands Staechades, which are over against Marselles, and in Arabia also: we keep it with great care in our Gardens.

The Time.

It flowereth the next yeare after it is sowne, in the end of May, which is a moneth before any Lavender.

The Names.

It is called of some Lavendula silvestris, but most usually Staechus: in English, of some Stichadove, or French Lavender: and in many parts of England, Cuffidony.

The Vertues.

It is of much more use in physicke than Lavender, and is much used for old paines in the head. It is also held to be good for to open obstructions, to expell melancholy, to cleanse and strengthen the liver, and other inward parts, and to be a Pectorall also.


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Page:Outlines of European History.djvu/217

Locate on this map Figs. 86, 89, 90, 91, 94, 97, and Plates III and IV, pp. 180 and 188. Find all points discussed in section 30 173


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Page:Outlines of European History.djvu/235

Notice the marvelous dash and vigor of the horses; also the strength of the last youth, as he reins in his steed till the animal's jaw is drawn back to its neck. The reins and trappings were of metal, and have disappeared


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Page:Outlines of European History.djvu/535

Pisa was once a Roman colony with handsome buildings, all of which have disappeared. In the eleventh century it became an important commercial city. It took a considerable part in the Crusades, and its inhabitants were enriched by trade. The cathedral is a basilica, erected after the Pisans won a great naval battle over the Mohammedans in 1063. It was consecrated in 1118, not long before the time of Frederick Barbarossa. The circular baptistry in the foreground was begun in 1153, but was not completed for more than a century. The bell tower, which, owing to the sinking of the foundations, has become celebrated as the Leaning Tower, was begun in 1174, although not completed until much later 455


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Page:Os Lusíadas (Camões, tr. Burton, 1880), Volume 2.djvu/1

ENGLISHED BY

RICHARD F. BURTON


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Page:Narrative of a Voyage around the World - 1843 - Volume 2.djvu/146

 Natives of Celebes.


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Talk:English As She Is Spoke

Note
Added a block center to the work with a max-width. On a wider screen it displays poorly due to the centering of some labels, and then the short lines. Usual issue with 16vo works :-( — billinghurst  sDrewth  06:31, 13 January 2013 (UTC)

title: Talk:English As She Is Spoke


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Page:Memoir, correspondence, and miscellanies, from the papers of Thomas Jefferson - Volume 1.djvu/163

 CORRESPONDENCE.


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Page:Mohammed and the Rise of Islam.djvu/91

 THE WELL ZEMZEM. From Ali Bey's Travels.


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 JEBEL NUR, NEAR MECCAH. From Ali Bey's Travels.


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Page:Mrs Beeton's Book of Household Management.djvu/1872

 DINNER TABLE—OLD FASHIONED STYLE.


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Page:Mrs Beeton's Book of Household Management.djvu/1927

 MENU & GUEST CARDS.


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Page:Mrs Beeton's Book of Household Management.djvu/1961

 TABLE-GLASS.

119


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Page:Journal of the Royal Geographical Society of London, Volume 1 (2nd edition).djvu/114

92


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Page:Kipps.djvu/405

 BOOK III

KIPPSES

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 IN WINTER COSTUME

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 DANCING WOMEN OF THE COURT

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 A DAY OF FESTIVAL

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Page:Landscape Painting by Birge Harrison.djvu/125

 By permission of E. S. Bennett


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Page:Latin for Beginners.djvu/205

 HERCULES 196

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 To ''EDITH WHARTON

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text: Page:List of residents 2.djvu/53

title: Page:List of residents 2.djvu/53


text: Page:List of residents 5.djvu/702

title: Page:List of residents 5.djvu/702


text: Page:List of residents 5.djvu/768

title: Page:List of residents 5.djvu/768


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Page:London - The People of the Abyss.djvu/283

 {|style="margin:1em auto;max-width:450px;min-width:450px;"
 * style="border:1px solid;"|People of the Abyss-283.jpg
 * }
 * }
 * }


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text:
Page:Impressions- A Book of Verse.djvu/47

 31


text:
Page:Indian Journal of Economics Volume 2.djvu/701

 {| class="wikitable" !rowspan="2"| Castes. !colspan="2"| ALLAHABAD !colspan="2"| BAI BARELI !colspan="2"| UNAO !colspan="2"| PARTABGARH !colspan="2"| SULTANPUR !colspan="2"| FATEHPUR !rowspan="2"| Castewise total (number of laborers of each caste in every District). ! Men ! Women ! Men ! Women ! Men ! Women ! Men ! Women ! Men ! Women ! Men ! Women ! scope="row" | Ahirs ! scope="row" | Barhi (Carpenter) ! scope="row" | Gadariyas ! scope="row" | Kola ! scope="row" | Kewats ! scope="row" | Koris ! scope="row" | Kurmis ! scope="row" | Lodhs ! scope="row" | Lohar (Black-smith) ! scope="row" | Luniyas ! scope="row" | Pasis ! scope="row" | Julhas ! scope="row" | Sheikhs ! scope="row" | Districtwise Total (number of laborers in each District.)
 * + STATEMENT SHOWING POTENTIAL SUPPLY OF LABOR CASTEWISE AND DISTRICTWISE
 * 72,459
 * 70,643
 * 65,486
 * 62,819
 * 53,381
 * 46,181
 * 54,263
 * 56,272
 * 61,866
 * 63,732
 * 30,258
 * 26,697
 * 6,64,057
 * 1,171
 * 847
 * 5,221
 * 5,004
 * 6,892
 * 5,827
 * 595
 * 649
 * 5,221
 * 4,898
 * 1,652
 * 1,452
 * 89,429
 * 22,067
 * 20,957
 * 15,403
 * 14,837
 * 13,311
 * 11,858
 * 14,871
 * 15,110
 * 12,400
 * 12,364
 * 12,940
 * 12,204
 * 1,78,317
 * 12,113
 * 12,756
 * 24,869
 * 24,869
 * 24,869
 * 24,869
 * 24,869
 * 24,869
 * 24,869
 * 24,869
 * 24,869
 * 24,869
 * 24,869
 * 14,668
 * 14,891
 * 2,932
 * 2,764
 * 7,305
 * 7,276
 * 13,806
 * 13,171
 * 76,813
 * 7,276
 * 13,806
 * 13,171
 * 76,813
 * 10,342
 * 11,293
 * 18,765
 * 18,732
 * 10,041
 * 9,652
 * 1,458
 * 1,641
 * 15,541
 * 16,486
 * 7,434
 * 6,815
 * 1,28,100
 * 66,421
 * 65,111
 * 21,145
 * 21,509
 * 9,140
 * 8,389
 * 57,333
 * 54,158
 * 18,949
 * 19,186
 * 20,413
 * 1,876
 * 3,80,630
 * 7,365
 * 6,837
 * 33,488
 * 31,872
 * 43,227
 * 39,283
 * 3,647
 * 3,702
 * 18,679
 * 17,348
 * 2,05,448
 * 17,348
 * 2,05,448
 * 12,917
 * 11,896
 * 4,476
 * 4,311
 * 3,947
 * 3,566
 * 8,889
 * 9,101
 * 5,746
 * 5,683
 * 6,505
 * 5,785
 * 82,822
 * 4,063
 * 3,707
 * 3,846
 * 3,773
 * 1,559
 * 1,489
 * 5,287
 * 6,009
 * 5,278
 * 5,139
 * 2,388
 * 2,304
 * 44,842
 * 57,710
 * 57,823
 * 57,648
 * 56,685
 * 48,254
 * 44,781
 * 31,237
 * 34,303
 * 19,240
 * 19,411
 * 17,362
 * 16,561
 * 4,61,015
 * 15,397
 * 15,420
 * 1,961
 * 1,802
 * 2,801
 * 2,502
 * 4,893
 * 4,851
 * 4,616
 * 4,886
 * 2,263
 * 1,903
 * 63,295
 * 33,580
 * 32,675
 * 9,653
 * 8,756
 * 29,304
 * 25,634
 * 9,484
 * 10,455
 * 6,119
 * 6,378
 * 10,075
 * 10,115
 * 1,92,228
 * colspan="2" | 8,12,621
 * colspan="2" | 5,69,834
 * colspan="2" | 5,26,881
 * colspan="2" | 4,97,082
 * colspan="2" | 4,79,006
 * colspan="2" | 3,49,559
 * 32,24,983
 * }


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title: Page:Instead of a Book, Tucker.djvu/467


text: Page:International Library of Technology, Volume 380.djvu/5


text:
Page:Mr. Punch's Book of Sports.djvu/17

—"Pitch" and "Toss."

.—"Batter pudding."

13

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text: Page:International Library of Technology, Volume 93.djvu/189


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Page:Hans Andersen's fairy tales (Holt, 1913).djvu/318

 UP FLEW THE TRUNK


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Page:Mr. Punch's Book of Sports.djvu/18

Mr. Punch's Book of Sports .—Simperton. What, you in light blue, Miss Gloriosa! I thought you were Harrovian to the core!

Miss Gloriosa. So I am, but I'm also Cambridge, and as I can't possibly afford two new dresses in one week, I decided to choose the most becoming colour!

[And of the dark blue was quite satisfied with the explanation.

(A Cricketer's "Catch" — "Come Follow!")

First Voice. Come follow, follow, follow, follow, follow, follow on!

Second Voice. Why then should I follow, follow, follow, why then must I follow, follow on?

Third Voice. When you're eighty runs or more behind our score you follow on!

14

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Page:Hans Andersen's fairy tales (Holt, 1913).djvu/212

 FATHER-STORK


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 THE KITCHEN-MAID


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Page:Highways and Byways in Lincolnshire.djvu/83

 Grantham Church.


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text:
Page:How to See the Vatican, Sladen, 1914.djvu/205

Rh


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Page:How to See the Vatican, Sladen, 1914.djvu/411

Rh


text: Page:Hudibras - Volume 1 (Butler, Nash, Bohn; 1859).djvu/311


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Page:Hudibras - Volume 2 (Butler, Nash, Bohn; 1859).djvu/16

 R. Cooper sculpt. , the.

From a rare Print.


text: Page:Hudibras - Volume 2 (Butler, Nash, Bohn; 1859).djvu/19


text:
Page:Hudibras - Volume 2 (Butler, Nash, Bohn; 1859).djvu/196

 R. Cooper sculpt.

EDMUND CALAMY.

From a Print by White.


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Page:Hudibras - Volume 2 (Butler, Nash, Bohn; 1859).djvu/230

 R. Cooper sculpt.

ALEXANDER HENDERSON.

From a scare Print by Hollar.


text:
Page:Hudibras - Volume 2 (Butler, Nash, Bohn; 1859).djvu/249

 R. Cooper sculpt.

ATHANASIUS KIRCHER.

From a Print prefixed to his Mundus Subterraneus, 1664.


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Page:Hunt - The climate and weather of Australia - 1913.djvu/136

 {| align=center Unfavorable to Inland Rains. No Tropical connection. || ANTARCTIC Cyclone— Passing through Bass Strait. With Trough connection with Tropical Low Pressure. Good Inland Rains. ||
 * WINTER ANITCYCLONE. || ANTARCTIC DEPRESSION—
 * WINTER ANITCYCLONE. || ANTARCTIC DEPRESSION—
 * WINTER ANTICYCLONE.png || ANTARCTIC DEPRESSION—Unfavorable to Inland Rains No Tropical connection.png || rowspan=3|ANTARCTIC Cyclone—Passing through Bass Strait.png
 * SUMMER ANITCYCLONE. || ANTARCTIC DEPRESSION—
 * SUMMER ANITCYCLONE. || ANTARCTIC DEPRESSION—
 * SUMMER ANITCYCLONE. || ANTARCTIC DEPRESSION—
 * SUMMER ANTICYCLONE.png || [[File:ANTARCTIC DEPRESSION—With Trough connection with Tropical Low Pressure Good Inland Rains.png|frameless|200px]]
 * }
 * }


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 {| align=center (Victoria.) || TORNADO-LIKE WINDSTORMS PRECEDING THE GEMVILLE TORNADO. || AVENEL TORNADO (?) (Victoria.)
 * MARONG TORNADO.
 * MARONG TORNADO.
 * MARONG TORNADO (VICTORIA).png || TORNADO-LIKE WINDSTORMS PRECEDING THE GEMVILLE TORNADO.png || AVENEL TORNADO (VICTORIA).png
 * }
 * }
 * }

.—Shading shows where rain fell during previous 24 hours. Wind direction shown thus strong winds


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Page:Great Men and Famous Women Volume 1.djvu/147

 Great Men and Famous Women Volume 1 - A NORSE RAID UNDER OLAF.png

A NORSE RAID UNDER OLAF.


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text: Page:Great Men and Famous Women Volume 3.djvu/41


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text: Page:General Zoology vol. 1 pt. 2.djvu/360


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Page:Famous Living Americans, with Portraits.djvu/88

 Famous Living Americans - Luther Burbank.jpg Courtesy of Gabriel Moulin, San Francisco


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Page:Famous Living Americans, with Portraits.djvu/114

 Famous Living Americans - Andrew Carnegie.jpg Copyright by Underwood & Underwood, New York


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Page:First Footsteps in East Africa, 1894 - Volume 2.djvu/37

 First Footsteps in East Africa - Costume of Harar.jpg

COSTUMES OF HARAR


text: Page:Flora Australiensis Volume 6.djvu/512


text:
Page:Forgotten Man and Other Essays.djvu/471

 THE FORGOTTEN MAN


text:
Page:Freud - Psychopathology of everyday life.djvu/81

 MISTAKES IN SPEECH


text:
Page:First Lessons in Geography (1856).djvu/30

 sum MARYLAND VIRGINIA Nomu CAILOLINA Scum CAROLINA, GFORGIA FLORIDA ALABAMA LOUISIANA, TEXAS “ States. ARKANSAS, '.I.‘ENNEBS1£E, Immucxy OIIIO, IIIICIIIGAN, IAIUIANA, ILLINOIS oy) \VISCONSIN IOWA MISSOURI, CALIFORNIA, LESSON XXI SOUTHERN STAT§ Cupxmls. Anuapohs, 0111110 R10IlH1Olld, Ralmgh, uw the COIU1Db1Zl, onthe Mxlled evxlle, T mllalrlssee Montgomery, Baton Rouge Austm WIIbT[]I‘N STATES Capitals. Little Rock, 000° Nfuhvillc Fmnkfort Columbus Lansiuff, Ixldiwmpolis ' Sprinfrfie near dw Madison on me Iowa City Jefferson City Sacramento, “ I Sxtuahon Severn James Neuse Uongaree Oconee Inland Alabama Jllzsswavlggn Cblorado Situation. Ae'/uansas. Uavnbwland. 1(2nta07cg/. Seiota. Grand. I'IQ.s>t Fbrk Qf the White. Sanganwnxl' Fourth Lake. Ibwa, _7lHssoaw§. Sacramento. _ LESSON XXII.- 27 ‘ . 7 I ~ ’ ‘ H ' I ' ' L, 1 g ~ “ I I , I. , ., ’ if. M1sIssII=1>I, Jackson, “ Pearl. ’* “ _ . . ._ ' CL 7 7 ' _...___ I _ N' 4 \ 1 _ ., ~ , “ I 7 H 7 ( 7 ’ 65 D K( I 1 , f , ( 5 ld, 7 Q L( 1 5 , Ci
 * l:uL'ml»-mo.sh. _ Y £11/n17'ga-mon.


text:
Page:Explorers and Travellers - Greely - 1904.djvu/368

 Henry M. Stanley.


text:
Page:Executive Orders of Herbert Hoover, Volume I.djvu/11

 PROCLAMATIONS


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Page:Encyclopedia of Virginia Biography volume 3.djvu/169

PROMINENT PERSONS


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text: Page:Dictionary of National Biography volume 48.djvu/4


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Page:Dorotheabealeofc00raikiala.djvu/11

 'HER CHILDREN'

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Page:Confederate Veteran volume 26.djvu/591

 COL. JOHN MARSHALL MARTIN, OF FLORIDA (See page 507)


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Page:Confederate Military History - 1899 - Volume 5.djvu/391

 373


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Page:Craven-Grey - Hindustani manual.djvu/5

 "Tauba tauba!"


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103

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 Fig. 447.—Span Collar Roof framed to form Attic.


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90

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 RUINS OF TIMGAD

THE FORUM AND TRIBUNE THE CAPITOL THE GREAT BASILICA


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Page:Colymbia (1873).djvu/45

Rh enclosed by our coral reefs, which includes many hundreds of square miles.

"At the same time the air-supply through these pipes was so improved that the air in the pipes, by mechanical contrivances, was kept at a considerable pressure; and by means of valves and stopcocks, the act of breathing below water is performed as easily as in the atmosphere; and there is no need to come to the surface at all for purposes of respiration. The breathing apparatus is so constructed that every mouthpiece is connected with two sets of tubes, one of which receives and carries off the expired air, whilst the other supplies the fresh air to be breathed. In this way the awkward and unsightly gurgling of the expired air is prevented.

"The quality of the air for breathing has also been much improved by the admixture of a considerable proportion of oxygen with the air supplied, so that one respiration of this oxygenated air is only required where many respirations of non-oxygenated air would be needed.

"Thus you will find that it is not necessary to breathe oftener than once in four or five minutes when you are used to this mode of breathing.

"When we make excursions beyond the reef into the ocean we carry with us metal bottles of condensed oxygenated air, whereby we are enabled to remain many hours away from the air-pipes of the enclosed sea without inconvenience."

After this explanation, my Instructor proposed that I should accompany him on a short excursion below the water, in order that I might learn practically something of the mode of life and qualify myself for citizenship in this singular community.

So having taken off my clothes, I donned the

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40 costume which is de rigueur in the water, namely a pair of spectacles, bathing-drawers and weight-belt.

This last piece of dress is worn for the purpose of counteracting that tendency to rise to the surface of the water which the smaller specific gravity of our bodies produces. It is a broad belt with pieces of lead or other heavy metal let into it. In order to provide me with a weight-belt precisely adapted to my requirements, my Instructor first ascertained my specific gravity by means of a simple apparatus, he then calculated the cubic contents of my body, and finally referred to a printed table to determine the weight of the belt I would require. Having found this, he took from the cupboard, where a number of these belts were kept, one of the precise weight required by me with which I at once girded myself.

I should add that these belts are provided with india-rubber cells which can be inflated at pleasure by the wearer so as to counteract the weight of the pieces of lead, and so restore the buoyancy of the body. This inflation is resorted to when the wearer wishes to bring his head above the surface of the water.

We sallied forth from the coral grotto and walked down the sloping beach of snow-white sand which the fierce rays of the sun had made uncomfortably warm for the naked feet.

The clear blue water felt deliciously cool, coming out of the sultry air, though I was told that its temperature was not much below eighty degrees.

Diving down into the pellucid depths, I marvelled at the extreme beauty of the scene. Corals of the most exquisite shape and colour, branching out into every variety of fantastic and elegant form; here, like the branches of trees as we see them in winter silvered

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Rh over with hoar-frost; there, in great fan-shaped masses, white, red, purple and violet, large round, sponges of all shapes and sizes, and beautiful seaweeds of the brightest hues and most exquisite foliage, Shoals of brilliantly coloured fishes, bright scarlet, blue and orange, or party-coloured with alternate black and yellow or black and scarlet bands, darted hither and thither among the corals and sea-weeds, or hung motionless in the water above and around us.

I had hardly time to observe all this when I felt the need of air. My conductor placed a pipe to my lips and signed to me to breathe. My first attempt was not very successful, and I felt as if I must go to the surface. But my companion, seeing my embarrassment, produced a small spring clamp which he fastened on my nostrils so as effectually to stop them. I was then able to take a full inspiration, which at once restored me to my self-possession; and after two or three attempts, I found I could use the apparatus with tolerable facility.

I noticed that my Instructor possessed the power of keeping his nostrils tightly closed by their own muscular action; and he told me that all his countrymen had the same power. Indeed, it was absolutely necessary to close the nostrils under water, not only for the purpose of using the breathing tubes, but also to prevent the water penetrating into and filling up the cavity of the nose. I had to use the nose-clamp for some time but I ultimately, by repeated exercise, acquired the power of closing my nostrils voluntarily. But this is a digression.

I found that my weight-belt completely counteracted the tendency of my body to ascend to the surface, and so true was the equilibrium established between my

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42 body and the water, that I could assume any position, rise, descend or remain stationary in the water, without any conscious effort; there was, in fact, no resistance to be overcome, buoyancy as well as gravitation was completely annihilated. I had, in fact, no weight relative to the medium in which I was. The sensation was at once new and delightful. It reminded me of the feeling of flying I had sometimes experienced in dreams, when I had felt as if skimming over the earth without touching it.

Looking upwards, I was struck with the curious appearance of the outside world seen from the depths of the water. The sky and some elevated objects on land, such as trees and mountain tops, were seen framed in a large circular opening, sharply defined and surrounded by a thin ring of prismatic colours. Objects near the horizon appeared high up, but dwarfed and flattened laterally; and the sun itself, when not right overhead, was of an oval shape, the long diameter being horizontal. The remainder of the space visible was occupied by a vivid reflection of the bottom of the sea, the corals, sponges and sea-weed being reproduced with great distinctness. The deeper the water the smaller the circumference of the circular space through which sky and external objects were seen.

The water being perfectly clear, I could see to a considerable distance, and all objects floating in the water were distinctly seen and of their natural shape.

I was struck by the exquisite whiteness of the skin both of my own body and that of my companion, owing to the blue tinge in the water.

On this first occasion I could not remain long below the surface, owing to the painful sensation

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Rh caused in my eyes by the contact with the sea-water. This smarting sensation was speedily removed by an eye-wash my Instructor gave me, and gradually diminished as I grew used to the immersion; so that after a week's practice I no longer felt any inconvenience from it, and could remain as long under water as I chose without the slightest discomfort in the eyes.

Until I got thoroughly habituated to the new element, I used to pass most of my time in the grotto of my Instructor prosecuting the studies necessary in order to make me fit for mingling with the community among whom I was to pass my time and whose manners and customs I was to adopt.

My progress towards this end gave great satisfaction to my Instructor, who assured me that others had much greater difficulty in becoming accustomed to this new life than I had displayed. This I could very well understand, for I know many persons at home to whom immersion, even for a short time, is attended by very disagreeable effects.

I asked my teacher if it was not the case that some could never become used to the aquatic habits of his countrymen: to which he replied:—

"It is certainly the case that a good many of those who are thrown upon these islands can never adapt their habits to ours, in fact are unable to exist with any degree of comfort in the water. These are, therefore, constrained to remain on the land, and there are many houses and residences on shore where these unfortunate people dwell. The discomforts of a land residence are, however, so great that most of them pine away and die, and of those who are able to stand out against the deleterious influences of the

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Author:Joseph George Holman

Works

 * Abroad and at Home (1796), a comic opera
 * Red Cross Knights (1799)
 * Votary of Wealth (1799), a comedy.
 * What a Blunder (1800), a comic opera

title: Author:Joseph George Holman


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Rh pew. Morel never went to chapel, preferring the public-house. Mrs. Morel, like a little champion, sat at the head of her pew, Paul at the other end; and at first Miriam sat next to him. Then the chapel was like home. It was a pretty place, with dark pews and slim, elegant pillars, and flowers. And the same people had sat in the same places ever since he was a boy. It was wonderfully sweet and soothing to sit there for an hour and a half, next to Miriam, and near to his mother, uniting his two loves under the spell of the place of worship. Then he felt warm and happy and religious at once. And after chapel he walked home with Miriam, whilst Mrs. Morel spent the rest of the evening with her old friend, Mrs. Burns. He was keenly alive on his walks on Sunday nights with Edgar and Miriam. He never went past the pits at night, by the lighted lamp-house, the tall black head-stocks and lines of trucks, past the fans spinning slowly like shadows, without the feeling of Miriam returning to him, keen and almost unbearable.

She did not very long occupy the Morels’ pew. Her father took one for themselves once more. It was under the little gallery, opposite the Morels’. When Paul and his mother came in the chapel the Leivers’ pew was always empty. He was anxious for fear she would not come: it was so far, and there were so many rainy Sundays. Then, often very late indeed, she came in, with her long stride, her head bowed, her face hidden under her hat of dark green velvet. Her face, as she sat opposite, was always in shadow. But it gave him a very keen feeling, as if all his soul stirred within him, to see her there. It was not the same glow, happiness, and pride, that he felt in having his mother in charge: something more wonderful, less human, and tinged to intensity by a pain, as if there were something he could not get to.

At this time he was beginning to question the orthodox creed. He was twenty-one, and she was twenty. She was beginning to dread the spring: he became so wild, and hurt her so much. All the way he went cruelly smashing her beliefs. Edgar enjoyed it. He was by nature critical and rather dispassionate. But Miriam suffered exquisite pain, as, with an intellect like a knife, the man she loved examined her religion in which she lived and moved and had her being. But he did not spare her. He was cruel. And when they went alone he was even more fierce, as if he would kill her soul. He bled her beliefs till she almost lost consciousness. 13


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194 “She exults—she exults as she carries him off from me,” Mrs. Morel cried in her heart when Paul had gone. “She’s not like an ordinary woman, who can leave me my share in him. She wants to absorb him. She wants to draw him out and absorb him till there is nothing left of him, even for himself. He will never be a man on his own feet—she will suck him up.” So the mother sat, and battled and brooded bitterly.

And he, coming home from his walks with Miriam, was wild with torture. He walked biting his lips and with clenched fists, going at a great rate. Then, brought up against a stile, he stood for some minutes, and did not move. There was a great hollow of darkness fronting him, and on the black up-slopes patches of tiny lights, and in the lowest trough of the night, a flare of the pit. It was all weird and dreadful. Why was he torn so, almost bewildered, and unable to move? Why did his mother sit at home and suffer? He knew she suffered badly. But why should she? And why did he hate Miriam, and feel so cruel towards her, at the thought of his mother. If Miriam caused his mother suffering, then he hated her—and he easily hated her. Why did she make him feel as if he were uncertain of himself, insecure, an indefinite thing, as if he had not sufficient sheathing to prevent the night and the space breaking into him? How he hated her! And then, what a rush of tenderness and humility!

Suddenly he plunged on again, running home. His mother saw on him the marks of some agony, and she said nothing. But he had to make her talk to him. Then she was was angry with him for going so far with Miriam.

“Why don’t you like her, mother?” he cried in despair.

“I don’t know, my boy,” she replied piteously. “I’m sure I’ve tried to like her. I’ve tried and tried, but I can’t—I can’t!”

And he felt dreary and hopeless between the two.

Spring was the worst time. He was changeable, and intense, and cruel. So he decided to stay away from her. Then came the hours when he knew Miriam was expecting him. His mother watched him growing restless. He could not go on with his work. He could do nothing. It was as if something were drawing his soul out towards Willey Farm. Then he put on his hat and went, saying nothing. And his mother knew he was gone. And as soon as he was on the way he sighed with relief. And when he was with her he was cruel again.