text:
Page:NATIONAL INTELLIGENCE SURVEY 18; CZECHOSLOVAKIA; SCIENCE CIA-RDP01-00707R000200110012-0.pdf/19

 APPROVED FOR RELEASE: 2009/06/16: CIA-RDP01-00707R000200110012-0

coordinated with the military section of the Council for Economic Mutual Assistance. In 1969 and early 1970, agreements detailing scientific-technical cooperation between the Federal Commission for Postal Services and Telecommunications of Czechoslovakia and the Ministry of Communications of the U.S.S.R. were signed. These agreements provide for the following: compatibility of automatic telephone systems control offices with standard communications networks; cooperation in planning of radio and TV networks; and coordinated efforts in transmission of color and black and white TV signals, in the design of cables, and in the construction of ground stations for satellite communications.

Czechoslovakia continues to emphasize communications research and development, and is providing some challenge to Hungary in the microwave field, especially in the capability to produce high-quality components, such as avalanche and Gunn diodes, in quantity. The major electronic research, development, and production facility is the Tesla Nationalized Enterprises in Prague. Military radio relay equipment, deployed extensively throughout the U.S.S.R. and to a lesser extent in other European Communist countries, has been reported as possibly developed and manufactured by Tesla and its affiliated organizations. One of these, the Tesla Telecommunications Research Institute, Pardubice, continues to accomplish considerable microwave research and development work on pulse position modulation (PPM) and pulse code modulation (PCM) systems.

Particular attention is devoted to the development of digital and secure communications systems using electronic encoding and West German teleprinters. Tesla developed and produced the 24-channel KPK-24 PCM system in the mid-1960's and followed in 1970 with the 32-channel KPK-32. Another of Tesla's major efforts is concerned with the development and production of air traffic control equipment for both airborne and ground installations. Automatic reconnaissance and direction-finding equipment was developed by an experimental research institute near Prague. Microwave measuring and test equipment up to and including the 8-millimeter band was developed and produced by the Radio Technical Institute at Opocinek, also a Tesla affiliate.

The Czechoslovaks continue to develop many types of electronic components, resulting from a moderate research and development program on electron tubes and solid-state devices. Also transistors, diodes, thin-film integrated circuits, and ferrite components are under development. Silicon products technology, such as silicon epoxy molding compounds for semiconductor devices, lag Western Europe by about 3 years. The Institute of Solid-State Physics, Prague, is investigating noncrystalline semiconductors, including liquid amorphous and chaleogenide glasses and amorphous germanium. The degree of success of these studies is not known, but the knowledge gained will enable production of transistors by evaporating semiconducting films of selenium and tellurium which, in turn, will benefit miniaturization and printed circuit technology.

Czechoslovak laser research compares favorably with that of East Germany but lags in areas of military device production and hardware development. Since 1963 Czechoslovakia has developed ruby, neodymium-glass, gas, semiconductor (gallium arsenide) lasers, and considerable interest is centered on helium neon lasers. A number of serially produced solid-state and gas lasers have been placed on the market. As part of its extensive research program in the communication field, the Institute of Radio Engineering and Electronics in Prague has studied laser transmission of audio signals and modulation and detection of laser beams. Applications of lasers in the fields of range-finding, geodesy, mine surveying, ophthalmic surgery, and plasma heating are being researched. There is, however, no evidence of directed energy weapon development. The first Czechoslovak laser radar, intended for observations of artificial earth satellites, has been installed at the Ondrejov Astronomical Institute in Prague. The instrument, in operation since March 1972, incorporated the four-axis tracking concept developed separately in East Germany, the U.S.S.R., and the United States. The U.S.S.R. furnished the tracking mount, and the laser is a Czechoslovak ruby decide rated at about 2 joules with a 20-nanosecond pulse every 10 seconds. The Institute of Radio Engineering and Electronics is investigating the communications potential of lasers.

Most of the avionics equipment being used in Czechoslovakia was obtained from the U.S.S.R. and to a lesser extent from Western countries. Nevertheless, Tesla has been involved in the design of both airborne and ground installations for air traffic control, and their effort has concentrated on the development and production of precision approach radars.

The Aviation Research Institute (LVU) is reportedly developing certain instruments for the Czechoslovak-designed L-159, a delta wing twinjet, low-level attack aircraft. Details are sketchy, but the work possibly involves the development of such equipment as an instrument which would constantly plot the aircraft

13

APPROVED FOR RELEASE: 2009/06/16: CIA-RDP01-00707R000200110012-0


text: The North Star (Rochester)/1848/01/07/Full text

license: Creative Commons - Attribution Share-Alike - https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/


text: The North Star (Rochester)/1847/12/03/Full text


text:
Author talk:Johann Heinrich Jakob Apel

German books

 * Märchen und Sagen (London: 1838)
 * Auswahl deutscher Gedichte historisch geordnet (London: 1841)
 * Das kalte Herz (London: 1843) partly in English
 * Der Blaubart: ein Märchen in fünf Akten (London: 1844)
 * Deutsche Prosa (London: 1866)
 * Leselehre des Englischen für Schulen und zum Privatgebrauch (Neustadt a. d. Haardt: 1870)
 * Erstes grammatisches Lehrbuch der Englischen Sprache für Schulen und zum Privatgebrauch (Mannheim: 1874)
 * Grammatische Bemerkungen in Anschluss an die Schulgrammatik der französischen Sprache von Dr. Karl Plötz (28th edition; Erfurt: 1886)

Details
-- Yodin T 14:48, 28 September 2023 (UTC)
 * From Saxe-Weimar
 * From his names given below, it seems a fuller version of his name was Johann Heinrich Jakob Apel.
 * He may have been the Johann Heinrich Jakob Gustav Apel, born around 1810 to Georg Heinrich Apel and Johanne Wilhelmine Apel, who married Amalie Auguste Bötticher on 13 Sept 1832 in Salza, Saxony; they had a daughter, Karoline Louise Elise Apel (c.1835 – 20 November 1863) (this would match his place of birth, Saxony, year of birth, and names, as given in the documents below, but not his father's name)
 * On 17 December 1838, John-Jacob-Henry Apel married Louisa Burette in St. George the Martyr Church, Camden (both of that parish) in the presence of Louisa's sister Henrietta, and Thomas Hasler (Banns) Listing them both as living at 15 Devonshire{?} Street, with him as "German Professor in King's College", his father as Daniel Apel, Squire; her father as Louis Burette, Sculptor
 * Said to be "Professor of the German Language in London" in 1840 ; in 1841 he was said to have been "assistant in King's College School, Strand" for six years, and had begun to run evening classes from "his residence, 112 Great Russell-street, Bloomsbury"; in 1842 he was described as "late Assistant Master in King's College, London";  in 1844 it was said he had "been occupied during six years in instructing large classes in King's College School in his native language"
 * His son, Henry Ferdinand Augustus Apel, was born on 24 March 1840 to Henry Jacob ("Teacher of Languages") and Louisa Apel of Wilmot Street, and was baptised on 23 September at St. George's Church, Bloomsbury (his name was listed as Henry Lewis Apel in the baptismal index; when he married in 1869, he gave his father's name as Henry Ferdinand Apel): this is Henry Ferdinand Augustus Apel (1840–1880)
 * On 18 August 1841, "Johann Heinrich Apel, with his Wife Louisa, and his Son Henry", a Linguist, native of Germany, arrived in Dover from France (has his signature as "Heinrich Apel")
 * His son, Frederick John Apel, was born on 21 May 1844, and baptised on 27 August at St George's Church, Bloomsbury to Heinrich ("Teacher of German") and Louise Apel, living at College Street, Fulham Road his name was listed as Friedrich Johann Apel in the baptismal index
 * In 1845 and 1848, he was listed as "teacher of German" at 5 College Street, Chelsea
 * His daughter, Catherine Juliana Apel, was born on 23 October 1850, to Henry ("German master") and Louisa Apel, living at 11 Celbridge Place, Bayswater, and was baptised 24 April 1851 at Holy Trinity Church, Marylebone Road
 * On 29 December, 1850, Thomas Carlyle wrote to Adolf Salis Schwabe, recommending Apel (who was one of six candidates) to become professor of German in Owen's College, Manchester; he was not appointed
 * During the 1851 England Census, he was living at 281 Celbridge Place, Paddington, London:
 * Henry Apel (Head), 41 years old, married, "Teacher of the German Language", born in Saxony
 * Louisa Apel (Wife), 30 years old, married, also a "Teacher of the German Language", born in France
 * Henry Apel (Son), 11 years old, "Scholar", born in Middlesex
 * Frederick Apel (Son), 6 years old, "Scholar", born in Middlesex
 * Catherine Apel (Daughter), 5 months old, born in Middlesex
 * In 1852/53 he was listed as "teacher of German" at Egbaston Place, Bristol Road, Birmingham, in 1855, he was listed as "teacher of German" at 28 Bennett's Hill, Birmingham (h. Pershore Road), and in 1858 at the same address, as "professor of German language", listed in Birmingham rate books until 1859, when his name is crossed out
 * German master at King Edwards School, Birmingham by 1856 ; no longer so by 1868
 * In the 1861 Census, he is listed as "Johann Heinrich Jacob Apel", age 51, "Teacher of Languages & Literature", born in Germany, and living without his family as a lodger in St. Pancras, London
 * Continued to publish books in London up to 1868
 * Was in Neustadt an der Weinstraße by November 1869
 * Became provisional teacher of English language and literature at the Latein- und höhern Töchterschule in Neustadt an der Weinstraße in the school year 1869/70 (details; hadn't been there the previous year), and continued there for the years 1870/71, 1872/73 (became seriously ill for a few weeks, but recovered), 1873/74 (1874; more details), 1874/75 (details), 1875/76, 1876/77 (details), 1878/79, and 1879/80
 * On 11 March 1870, Friedrich von Bodenstedt wrote to a friend, enclosing a letter, beginning: "Einliegend übersende ich Ihnen einen besonderen Brief, den Hn. Apel betreffend, um diese unangenahme persönlich Angelegenheit mit der Beantwortung des geschäftlichen Theils Ihrer werthen Zuschrift nicht zu vermischen." The letter might be preserved, and if so could shed light on Apel's life at this time.
 * Died 4 May 1881: "Am 4. Mai verstarb der provisorische Lehrer der englischen Sprache an der Lateinschule, Heinrich Apel, welcher seit dem Jahre 1870 bei der Schule wirkte und trotz hohen Alters und körperlicher Beschwerden seinem Unterricht noch immer mit grosser Gewissenhaftigkeit obgelegen hatte."
 * A family tree on Ancestry says "? 19 June 1878 • ? Folkestone, Kent; Possibly drowned.", without giving any sources
 * Not to be confused with Henry Apel, born 11 January 1835 in Hessen; or his father Henry Apel, who married Anna Brinkman, and had five children; as their entire family emigrated to America in 1856

Louise Apel née Burette (wife)
Apel's wife in the 1851 census was Louisa Apel, a 30 year old teacher of German language, born in France. It is unclear whether they had separated by 1861 (which would explain why she was in Brighton while he was in London), or if she was in Brighton to look after her mother (who died soon after this) and moved with Apel to Germany, only returning to England after his death (which would explain why she hasn't been found in the 1871 or 1881 England censuses) -- Yodin T 23:57, 27 April 2024 (UTC)
 * During the 1861 England Census, Louise Apel was living with her mother and daughter at 3 Sydney Terrace, Lewes Street, Brighton:
 * Agnes Burette (Head), widow, 61 years old, "Teacher of languages", born in Ireland: this is Agnes Jane Burette (1800–1863)
 * Henrietta Burette (Daughter), 41 years old, also a "Teacher of languages", born in Ireland
 * Louise Apel (Daughter), 40 years old, profession "None", born in France
 * Kate Apel (Grand-daughter), 10 years old, "Scholar", born in Middlesex, London
 * During the 1891 Census she was living at 52 St Luke's Road, Paddington, London:
 * Louise Apel (Head), widow, 70 years old, "living on own means", born in France
 * Gertrude Apel (Grand-daughter), single, 20 years old, "Art Student", born in Germany
 * In the 1901 census, Gertrude (aged 30, born in Jena, Germany) was recuperating at Buckmaster House, Thanet, with Maria {E/C?} Apel (aged 21, born in Ilford, Essex)
 * Louise Apel died aged 80 in 1901, in Greenwich (Edward Theodore Apel also died that year, aged 79 at Prestwich, possibly unrelated)

title: Author talk:Johann Heinrich Jakob Apel


text:
Page:Ollanta An Ancient Ynca Drama.pdf/92

Rh


text:
Page:Journals of Dorothy Wordsworth (Macmillan, 1897) (IA cu31924104001478).pdf/142

 Wednesday, 5th May.—A very fine morning, rather cooler than yesterday. We planted three-fourths of the bower. I made bread. We sate in the orchard. The thrush sang all day, as he always sings. I wrote to the Hutchinsons, and to Coleridge. Packed off Thalaba. William had kept off work till near bed-time, when we returned from our walk. Then he began again, and went to bed very nervous. We walked in the twilight, and walked till night came on. The moon had the old moon in her arms, but not so plain to be seen as the night before. When we went to bed it was a boat without the circle. I read The Lover's Complaint to William in bed, and left him composed.

Thursday, 6th May.—A sweet morning. We have put the finishing stroke to our bower, and here we are sitting in the orchard. It is one o'clock. We are sitting upon a seat under the wall, which I found my brother building up, when I came to him He had intended that it should have been done before I came. It is a nice, cool, shady spot. The small birds are singing, lambs bleating, cuckoos calling, the thrush sings by fits, Thomas Ashburner's axe is going quietly (without passion) in the orchard, hens are cackling, flies humming, the women talking together at their doors, plum and pear trees are in blossom—apple trees greenish—the opposite woods green, the crows are cawing, we have heard ravens, the ash trees are in blossom, birds flying all about us, the stitchwort is coming out, there is one budding lychnis, the primroses are passing their prime, celandine, violets, and wood sorrel for ever more, little geraniums and pansies on the wall. We walked in the evening to Tail End, to inquire about hurdles for the orchard shed When we came in we found a magazine, and review, and a letter from Coleridge, verses to Hartley, and Sara H. We read the review, etc. The moon was a perfect boat, a silver boat, when we were out in the evening. The birch tree is all over green in small leaf, more light and elegant than when it is full


text:
Page:Ollanta An Ancient Ynca Drama.pdf/93

Rh


text:
Commonwealth Act No. 34

Be it enacted by the National Assembly of the Philippines:

Pursuant to the provisions of Article V of the Constitution, there shall be held a plebiscite on Friday, April thirty, nineteen hundred and thirty-seven, on the question of woman suffrage. On said date all qualified women, as hereinafter provided, may vote either in favor or against the granting of such suffrage.

Said Article V of the Constitution shall be published in the Official Gazette, in English and in Spanish, for three consecutive issues at least fifteen days prior to said election, and the said Article V shall be posted in a conspicuous place in each municipal and provincial office building and in each polling place not later than the twenty-second day of April, nineteen hundred and thirty-seven, and shall remain posted therein continually until after the termination of the plebiscite. At least ten copies of the said Article V of the Constitution, in English and in Spanish, shall be kept at each polling place available for examination by the qualified electors during the plebiscite. Whenever practicable, copies in the principal native languages, as may be determined by the Secretary of the Interior, shall also be kept in each polling place.

Every female citizen of the Philippines, twenty-one years of age, or over, who shall have been a resident of the Philippines for one year and of the municipality wherein she proposes to vote for at least six months next preceding the plebiscite and who possesses the qualifications required by existing law for male voters, but without the disqualifications therein specified, is entitled to vote in said plebiscite.

The provisions of the Election Law regarding the holding of a special election, in so far as said provisions are not in conflict herewith, are hereby declared applicable to the plebiscite provided for in this Act. Four watchers shall be appointed for each polling place in every municipality by the women's club organized therein, or in default of any women's organization, by the National Federation of Women's Club. The same number of watchers shall be allowed to groups or organizations opposed to woman suffrage.

In specially organized provinces, whenever necessary, the provincial boards shall, under the supervision of the Secretary of the Interior, provide for the formation of election precincts in every municipality or municipal district, shall designate the proper polling places, and shall appoint election inspectors and poll clerks with their respective substitutes.

The election precincts shall remain as now established, and the polling places shall be the same unless the municipal council or board concerned shall designate a different place on or before April first, nineteen hundred and thirty-seven.

The existing boards of election inspectors shall meet, for the registration of voters, for the purposes of this Act on April tenth and seventeenth, nineteen hundred and thirty-seven, between the hours of seven in the morning and seven in the afternoon: Provided, however, That if upon the stroke of seven o’clock in the evening on either of the two days designated for registration and the revision of the list there still remain women who desire to be registered, the election inspectors shall make a list of those present at said hour within a radius of thirty meters from the polling place and shall hand each of them a consecutively numbered card, and upon presentation of said card, the registration of said women shall be permitted after seven o’clock in the evening. Before registering any female voter, the board of election inspectors shall require each registrant to fill out and sign, under oath before said board of election inspectors, an identification card, showing her name in full; her age on her last birthday; her civil status; her citizenship; length of residence in the Philippines; length of residence in the municipality where she proposes to vote; and whether she is able to read and write any native language, Spanish or English. Printed forms for this purpose shall be furnished each registrant. Each election inspector and poll clerk shall receive two pesos for each day of actual service rendered by him as required by this Act.

Women possessing the qualifications of a male voter may be appointed poll clerks for the plebiscite.

All judicial proceedings for the inclusion or exclusion of voters shall be free of charge and shall be filed not later than the twenty-third day of April nineteen hundred and thirty-seven, and shall be finally decided on or before the twenty-sixth day of April, nineteen hundred and thirty-seven. The board of election inspectors shall hold its last meeting on April twenty-eight, nineteen hundred and thirty-seven, for the purpose specified in section four hundred and thirty-nine of the Election Law.

The ballots to be used in the plebiscite shall be printed in English and in Spanish and shall conform to the following form:

is submitted in this plebiscite to the female citizens of the Philippines, in order that they may vote either in favor or against the granting of such suffrage, pursuant to the provisions of Article V of the Constitution which reads as follows:

“ Suffrage may be exercised by male citizens of the Philippines not otherwise disqualified by law, who are twenty-one years of age or over and are able to read and write, and who shall have resided in the Philippines for one year and in the municipality wherein they propose to vote for at least six months preceding the election. The National Assembly shall extend the right of suffrage to women, if in a plebiscite which shall be held for that purpose within two years after the adoption of this Constitution, not less than three hundred thousand women possessing the necessary qualifications shall vote affirmatively on the question.”

If you are in favor of woman suffrage answer “Yes,” and if you are against, answer “No” in the corresponding square.

se somete en este plebiscito a las ciudadanas de Filipinas para que ellas voten, bien a favor o en contra del otorgamiento de dicbo sufragio, por virtud de las disposiciones del Capitulo V de la Constitución que se lee como sigue:

“ Podra ejercitar el sufragio todo ciudadano filipino que tenga veintiún años de edad o más, sepa leer y escribir, haya residido en Filipinas un año y seis meses, por lo menos, en el municipio en que se proponga votar antes de la fecha de la elección, y que de otro modo no esté incapacitado por le ley. La Asamblea Nacional otorgará, sin embargo, a la mujer el derecho de sufragio, siempre que, en un plebiscito que se consavocará al efecto, dentro de dos años después de adoptada esta Constitución, trescientas mil mujeres cuando menos, que poseyeren las necesarias calificaciones, voten afirmativamente sobre la cuestión.”

Si está en favor del otorgamiento de dicho sufragio, escriba la palabra “Si” en el encasillado en blanco después de la pregunta: si está en contra, escriba la palabra “No.”

Are you in favor of granting suffrage to women?

Está Vd. en favor de la concesión del sufragio a las mujeres?

The boards of inspectors shall prepare only three copies of the returns of the plebiscite in their respective polling places on a form to be prescribed by the Secretary of the Interior. One copy shall be deposited in the ballot box for the valid ballots and the two copies shall be delivered to the proper municipal treasurer, who shall immediately forward, by registered mail, one copy to the Secretary of the National Assembly and the other copy to the secretary of the Interior. The Bureau of Posts shall accept and transmit without delay and free of charge all plebiscite returns and any official report or telegram connected therewith.

A count of the votes cast according to the returns of the board of inspectors will be made by the National Assembly. If the result shows that not less than three hundred thousand women have voted affirmatively on the question, all women who possess the qualifications specified in section two hereof will be entitled to vote in any election which may be held thereafter. In such case, the registration list of the plebiscite may be used in any subsequent election, until revised according to law.

The sum of one hundred and fifty thousand pesos, or so much thereof as may be necessary, is hereby appropriated out of any funds in the National Treasury, not otherwise appropriated, for the payment, subject to the approval of the Secretary of the Interior, of the expenses incurred in connection with the holding of the plebiscite provided for in this Act.

This Act shall take effect upon its approval.

Approved, September 30, 1936.

title: Commonwealth Act No. 34


text:
Page:The Lady of the Lake - Scott (1810).djvu/233

RV 217 (Rh)


text:
Page:The Lady of the Lake - Scott (1810).djvu/234

RV 218 (Rh)


text:
Page:The Crowne of all Homers Workes - Chapman (1624).djvu/32

Rh


text: Page:Virgil's Pastorals, Georgics and Aeneis - Dryden (1709) - volume 2.djvu/135


text:
Page:The plastic age, (IA plasticage00mark).pdf/137

Rh they were knocked into a cocked hat. The frater¬ nity is a pleasant club: it gets you into campus ac¬ tivities; and it gives you a social life in college that you can’t get without it. It is n’t very important to most men after they graduate. Just try to raise some money from the alumni some time, and you ’ll find out. Some of them remain undergraduates all their lives, and they think that the fraternity is important, but most of them hardly think of it ex¬ cept when they come back to reunions. They ’re more interested in their clubs or the Masons or something of that sort.”

“My father has n’t remained an undergraduate all his life, but he’s interested in the Nu Belts,” Hugh countered vigorously.

“I suppose he is,” Graham tactfully admitted, “but you ’ll find that most men are n’t. But that doesn’t matter. You aren’t an alumnus yet; you ’re a freshman, and a fraternity is a darn nice thing to have around while you are in college.

“What I am going to say now,” he continued, hesitating, “is pretty touchy, and I hope that you won’t be offended. I have been trying to impress on you that the fraternity is most important while you are in college, and, believe me, it’s damned important. A fellow has a hell of a time if he gets into the wrong fraternity. ... I am sure that you are going to get a lot of bids. Bon t choose hast¬ ily. Spend to-morrow thinking the various bunches


text:
Page:The plastic age, (IA plasticage00mark).pdf/279

Rh looked at him. Slowly Cynthia took her arms from around Hugh’s neck and forced herself from his embrace. Norry disappeared into his room and came out a minute later with his coat on; he had just begun to undress when he had heard a noise in the study.

“I ’ll see you home, Cynthia,” he said quietly. He took her arm and led her out of the room—and [locked the door behind him. Hugh stared at them blankly, swaying slightly, completely befuddled. Cynthia went with Norry willingly enough, leaning heavily on his arm and occasionally sniffing.

When he returned to his room, Hugh was sitting on the floor staring at a photograph of Norry’s mother. He had been staring at it for ten minutes, holding it first at arm’s length and then drawing it closer and closer to him. No matter where he held it, he could not see what it was—and he was de¬ termined to see it.

Norry walked up to him and reached for the photograph.

“Give me that,” he said curtly. “Take your hands off my mother’s picture.”

“It’s not,” Hugh exclaimed angrily; “it’s not. It’s my musher, my own mu-musher—my, my own dear musher. Oh, oh!”

He slumped down in a heap and began to, sob bitterly, muttering, “Musher, musher, musher.

Norry was angry. The whole scene was revolt-*


text: Page:Virgil's Pastorals, Georgics and Aeneis - Dryden (1709) - volume 2.djvu/136


text:
Page:The plastic age, (IA plasticage00mark).pdf/281

Rh “I’m a blot,” he declared mournfully; “I ’m no rood, Norry. I’m an—an excreeshence, an ex:ree-shence, tha ’s what I am.”

‘‘Something of the sort,” Norry agreed in disgust. ‘Here, let me take off your coat.”

“Leave my coat alone.” He pulled himself iway from Norry. “I’m no good. I’m an ex;ree-shence. I’m goin’ t’ commit suicide; tha’s ivhat I’m goin’ t’ do. Nobody ’ll care ’cept my ■nusher, and she would n’t either if she knew me. Dh, oh, I wish I did n’t use a shafety-razor. I ’ll tell you what to do, Norry.” He clung pleadingly to Norry’s arm and begged with passionate in¬ tensity. “You go over to Harry King’s room. He’s got a re-re—a pistol. You get it for me and I ’ll put it right here—” he touched his temple awkwardly—“and I ’ll—I ’ll blow my damn brains out. I’m a blot, Norry; I’m an ex-cree-shence.”

Norry shook him. “Shut up. You’ve got to go to bed. You ’re drunk.”

“I’m sick. I’m an ex-cree-shence.” The room was whizzing rapidly around Hugh, and he clung hysterically to Norry. Finally he permitted him¬ self to be led into the bedroom and undressed, still loaning that he was an “ex-cree-shence.

The bed pitched. He lay on his right side, clutching the covers in terror. He turned over on his back. Still the bed swung up and down sickeningly. Then he twisted over to his left side, and


text:
Page:A Grammar of the Telugu language.djvu/47

Rh {|style="width:100%"
 * style="width:25%"|ప్రభవ
 * style="width:25%"|1747. 1807.
 * style="width:25%"|హెవశంచి
 * style="width:25%"|1777. 1837.
 * విఛవ
 * 1748. 1808.
 * విశంచి
 * 1778. 1838.
 * శుక్ల
 * 1749. 1809.
 * వికారి
 * 1779. 1839.
 * ప్రమోదూత
 * 1750. 1810.
 * శార్వరి
 * 1780. 1840.
 * ప్రజోత్పత్తి
 * 1751. 1811.
 * ప్లవ
 * 1781. 1841.
 * ఆంగీరిస
 * 1752. 1812.
 * శుఛకృత్
 * 1782. 1842.
 * శ్రీముఖ
 * 1753. 1813.
 * శెూభకృత్
 * 1783. 1843.
 * భావ
 * 1754. 1814.
 * క్రోధి
 * 1784. 1844.
 * యువ
 * 1755. 1815.
 * విశ్వావను
 * 1785. 1845.
 * ధాత
 * 1756. 1816.
 * పరాభవ
 * 1786. 1846.
 * ఈశ్వర
 * 1757. 1817.
 * ప్లవంగ
 * 1787. 1847.
 * బహుధాన్య
 * 1758. 1818.
 * కీలక
 * 1788. 1848.
 * ప్రమూది
 * 1759. 1819.
 * పౌమ్య
 * 1789. 1849.
 * విక్రమ
 * 1760. 1820.
 * సాధారణ
 * 1790. 1850.
 * వ్రిష
 * 1761. 1821.
 * విరోధకృత్
 * 1791. 1851.
 * చిత్రఛాను
 * 1762. 1822.
 * పరిధావి
 * 1792. 1852.
 * స్వఛాను
 * 1763. 1823.
 * ప్రమాదీచ
 * 1793. 1853.
 * తారణ
 * 1764. 1824.
 * ఆనంద
 * 1794. 1854.
 * పాధివ
 * 1765. 1825.
 * రాక్షస
 * 1795. 1855.
 * వ్యయ
 * 1766. 1826.
 * నల
 * 1796. 1856.
 * సర్వజిత్
 * 1767. 1827.
 * పింగశ
 * 1797. 1857.
 * సర్వధారి
 * 1768. 1828.
 * కాశయుక్తి
 * 1798. 1858.
 * విరోధి
 * 1769. 1829.
 * సిద్ధాద్రి
 * 1799. 1859.
 * వికృతి
 * 1770. 1830.
 * రౌద్రి
 * 1800. 1860.
 * ఖర
 * 1771. 1831.
 * దుర్మతి
 * 1801. 1861.
 * నందన
 * 1772. 1832.
 * దుందుభి
 * 1802. 1862.
 * విజయ
 * 1773. 1833.
 * రుధికోద్గారి
 * 1803. 1863.
 * జయ
 * 1774. 1834.
 * రక్తాక్షి
 * 1804. 1864.
 * మన్మధ
 * 1775. 1835.
 * క్రోధన
 * 1805. 1865.
 * దుర్ముఖి
 * 1776. 1836.
 * క్షయ.
 * 1806. 1866.
 * }
 * ఖర
 * 1771. 1831.
 * దుర్మతి
 * 1801. 1861.
 * నందన
 * 1772. 1832.
 * దుందుభి
 * 1802. 1862.
 * విజయ
 * 1773. 1833.
 * రుధికోద్గారి
 * 1803. 1863.
 * జయ
 * 1774. 1834.
 * రక్తాక్షి
 * 1804. 1864.
 * మన్మధ
 * 1775. 1835.
 * క్రోధన
 * 1805. 1865.
 * దుర్ముఖి
 * 1776. 1836.
 * క్షయ.
 * 1806. 1866.
 * }
 * దుర్ముఖి
 * 1776. 1836.
 * క్షయ.
 * 1806. 1866.
 * }


text:
Portal:American Samoa

Works

 * Coming of Age in Samoa by Margaret Mead (1928)

Political documents

 * Constitution of American Samoa (1960)

title: Portal:American Samoa


text:
Page:Fsi-AmharicBasicCourse-Volume2-StudentText.pdf/89

RV 584 (Rh)


text: A Failure to Communicate? How Public Messaging Has Strained the COVID-19 Response in the United States


text: Index:A manual of Greek literature - from the earliest authentic periods to the close of the Byzantine era (IA manualgreek00anthrich).pdf


text: Page:A manual of Greek literature - from the earliest authentic periods to the close of the Byzantine era (IA manualgreek00anthrich).pdf/14


text: Page:A manual of Greek literature - from the earliest authentic periods to the close of the Byzantine era (IA manualgreek00anthrich).pdf/8


text: Page:A manual of Greek literature - from the earliest authentic periods to the close of the Byzantine era (IA manualgreek00anthrich).pdf/603


text:
Page:The Works of H G Wells Volume 9.pdf/233

 four hours. I cease absolutely to be interested in anything else, except so far as it leads towards intercourse with this being who is to be at once so strangely alien and so totally mine.

§ 4

Wrapped up in these preoccupations as I am, it will certainly be the botanist who will notice the comparative absence of animals about us.

He will put it in the form of a temperate objection to the Utopian planet.

He is a professed lover of dogs and there are none. We have seen no horses and only one or two mules on the day of our arrival, and there seems not a cat in the world. I bring my mind round to his suggestion. "This follows," I say.

It is only reluctantly that I allow myself to be drawn from my secret musings into a discussion of Utopian pets.

I try to explain that a phase in the world's development is inevitable when a systematic world-wide attempt will be made to destroy for ever a great number of contagious and infectious diseases, and that this will involve, for a time at any rate, a stringent suppression of the free movement of familiar animals. Utopian houses, streets and drains will be planned and built to make rats, mice, and suchlike house parasites impossible; the race of cats and dogs—providing, as it does, living fastnesses to which such diseases as plague, influenza, catarrhs and the like, can retreat to sally forth again—must pass for a time 205


text: The Pines of Lory

title: The Pines of Lory


text: Talk:The Pines of Lory

title: Talk:The Pines of Lory


text:
Page:Persian Romanization.pdf/1

Letters of the Alphabet

title: Page:Persian Romanization.pdf/1


text:
Page:A manual of Greek literature - from the earliest authentic periods to the close of the Byzantine era (IA manualgreek00anthrich).pdf/596

574 after Christ. Protospatharius was originally a military title, given to the colonel of the body-guards of the Emperor of Constantinople (Spatharii), but afterward became a high civil dignity. After arriving at high professional and political rank, he at last embraced the monastic life. Of his works, the two most important are, 1. ,, an anatomical and physical treatise, in five books, the best edition of which is by Greenhill, Oxford, 1842, 8vo; and 2. ,, the best edition of which is by Guidot, Leyden, 1703 (and 1731), 8vo.


text:
Page:The Works of H G Wells Volume 9.pdf/234

 out of freedom, and the filth made by horses and the other brutes of the highway vanish from the face of the earth. These things make an old story to me, and perhaps explicitness suffers through my brevity.

My botanist fails altogether to grasp what the disappearance of diseases means. His mind has no imaginative organ of that compass. As I talk his mind rests on one fixed image. This presents what the botanist would probably call a "dear old doggie"—which the botanist would make believe did not possess any sensible odour—and it has faithful brown eyes and understands everything you say. The botanist would make believe it understood him mystically, and I figure his long white hand—which seems to me, in my more jaundiced moments, to exist entirely for picking things and holding a lens—patting its head, while the brute looked things unspeakable

The botanist shakes his head after my explanation and says quietly, "I do not like your Utopia, if there are to be no dogs."

Perhaps that makes me a little malicious. Indeed I do not hate dogs, but I care ten thousand times more for a man than for all the brutes on the earth, and I can see, what the botanist I think cannot, that a life spent in the delightful atmosphere of many pet animals may have too dear a price

I find myself back again at the comparison of the botanist and myself. There is a profound difference in our imaginations, and I wonder whether it is the consequence of innate character or of training and whether he is really the human type or I. I am not altogether without imagination, but what imagination


text:
Page:A manual of Greek literature - from the earliest authentic periods to the close of the Byzantine era (IA manualgreek00anthrich).pdf/9

of Lectures on Greek Literature is one of the duties connected with the department of Ancient Languages in Columbia College, and, in fulfilling this requirement, the author of the present work has, for many years past, read a series of lectures on the subject to the senior classes of the institution.


text:
Page:The Works of H G Wells Volume 9.pdf/235

 I have has the most insistent disposition to square itself with every fact in the universe. It hypothesises very boldly, but on the other hand it will not gravely make believe. Now the botanist's imagination is always busy with the most impossible make-believe. That is the way with all children I know. But it seems to me one ought to pass out of it. It isn't as though the world was an untidy nursery; it is a place of splendours indescribable for all who will lift its veils. It may be he is essentially different from me, but I am much more inclined to think he is simply more childish. Always it is make-believe. He believes that horses are beautiful creatures, for example, dogs are beautiful creatures, that some women are inexpressibly lovely, and he makes believe that this is always so. Never a word of criticism of horse or dog or woman! Never a word of criticism of his impeccable friends! Then there is his botany. He makes believe that all the vegetable kingdom is mystically perfect and exemplary, that all flowers smell deliciously and are exquisitely beautiful, that Drosera does not hurt flies very much, and that onions do not smell. Most of the universe does not interest this nature lover at all. But I know, and I am querulously incapable of understanding why everyone else does not know, that a horse is beautiful in one way and quite ugly in another, that everything has this shot-silk quality, and is all the finer for that. When people talk of a horse as an ugly animal I think of its beautiful moments, but when I hear a flow of indiscriminate praise of its beauty I think of such an aspect as one gets from a dog-cart, the fiddle-shaped back and


text:
Page:Fletcher - The Mortover Grange Affair.pdf/255

From where he stood, in the shelter of a shop-door, some twenty yards away, Wedgwood was able to witness all the little details of the meeting between Nottidge and his correspondent, and he speedily became aware that the lady was somewhat shy, if not suspicious, and needed indisputable assurance of Nottidge's good faith. He saw Nottidge produce what was obviously a card-case and present a card; he witnessed certain gestures on Nottidge's part which were pantomimic of asseverations of honesty and confidence. And eventually, after an exchange of speech between the two which occupied some minutes, Nottidge led his newly-made acquaintance in the detective's direction, and Wedgwood purposely stepped into the full glare of a neighbouring lamp. But the young woman did not see him; she was giving all her attention to Nottidge.

"This is my friend," said Nottidge as they came up. "You can rely on his"


text:
Page:Fletcher - The Mortover Grange Affair.pdf/256

 The young woman looked up at Wedgwood, and let out a cry of dismay.

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "It's—it's the man who came to our door!"

"Just to ask if Mr. Levigne was at home," said Wedgwood, reassuringly. "No harm in that, miss. I didn't know I was going to meet Mr. Nottidge then—came across him by accident, after leaving you."

Nottidge looked from one to the other, evidently mystified, and Wedgwood hastened to explain matters.

"I made a call at a house in Cleveland Square just before meeting you," he said. "This young lady opened the door. So—she recognizes me!"

"Knew you at once," agreed the young woman. She had recovered her composure by that time, and was eyeing her two companions with knowing glances. Suddenly she pointed at Wedgwood and turned to Nottidge.

"Is he—somebody you employ about that affair you've been advertising about?" she asked.

"Quite right!" replied Nottidge. "He's concerned, anyway."

She nodded as if satisfied.

"Well, of course," she said, "of course, all I want is to know that I'm safe about getting


text: Page:The Laws of Plato (vol. 1 of 2) (England, 1921).djvu/12


text:
Page:Persian Romanization.pdf/2

 Vowels and Diphthongs (see Note 5)

Notes
 * 1) For the use of ا (alif) to support ء (hamzah) and ٓ (maddah), see rule 1(a). For the romanization of ء and ٓ, see rules 4 and 5 respectively. For the use of ا (alif) to represent the long vowel romanized ā, see the table of vowels and diphthongs, and rule 1(b).
 * 2) Final ک and گ (often written ک and گ) may have the form ك, without the distinguishing upper stroke or strokes. The two letters are always distinguished in romanization.
 * 3) For other values of و and ی, see the table of vowels and diphthongs, and rules 2, 3, and 7.
 * 4) ة (dotted ه) when used as an alternative to ت is romanized t.
 * 5) Vowel points are not printed on Library of Congress cards.
 * 6) See rules 1(b) and 5.
 * 7) See rule 3(d).

RULES OF APPLICATION

Letters Which May Be Romanized in Different Ways Depending on Their Context

title: Page:Persian Romanization.pdf/2


text:
Page:กม ร ๘ - ๒๔๗๘ fixed.pdf/1185

 without having to require a case to be instituted. But when the court has given any order, the party against whom the bail bond is enforced or a public prosecutor has the power to file an appeal or final appeal.

No public prosecutor shall institute any case before a court without prior inquiry thereinto.

An inquiry official has the power to inquire into all criminal cases.

However, if it is a personal offence, no inquiry shall be conducted without a regular complaint.

An inquiry official may refrain from conducting an inquiry in the following events:

when the injured person asks for help but refuses to submit a regular complaint;

title: Page:กม ร ๘ - ๒๔๗๘ fixed.pdf/1185


text:
Page:Journal of the Straits Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society (IA journalofstrait121878roya).pdf/92

 has mistaken the situation of K. Kangsa, which he writes "Qualo Consow," and marks as an extensive tributary having at two days' distance a "Carrying Place one day by land to Larut River." I am inclined to think there has in fact been some confusion between this supposed tributary, and the bend to the North which the main stream takes near this point. If this surmise is correct the residence of "the King" was probably at Alahan, where Col. Low found the Court 43 years later. The only name given in its vicinity is Rantau Panjang, probably Pasir Panjang. But this tracing of Perak, before the Siamese invasion, is so interesting that I have had it copied, and readers can form their own judgments on these points. It will be seen that the lower part of the river is given very correctly, and that most of the names can be identified. All reference to the Bruas, as connected with Ulu Perak, has now disappeared; and it is curious that the mistake, as it undoubtedly was then, should have reappeared many years later in the Dutch Maps already referred to. Mr. Moniot might have have been warned by this to distrust so unsafe a guide. Col. Low, it may be remarked, also overlooks the importance of this portion of Forrest's sketch. The only reference he makes to the route from Kwala Kangsa to the sea is in the following passage from his account of Ulu Perak as "described to me by Natives, and by the Chinese;"

"From Quallah Kangsan there is an elephant road to Trong. The first March is to Padang Assun. The second to Pondok, chiefly across rice grounds. Here the population may be rated at 1,000."

It is possible that Col. Low. here speaks of the Kwala Kangsa, which he has referred to just before as near Kendrong; and that there is some confusion between the Trong near Larut and the Trong to the north of Kedah.

Between the date of Capt. Forrest's engraving (published in 1792) and Mr. Moniot's (published in 1862), no map with which the Malay Geography is specially concerned was published. There are however two M. S. drawings to speak of, Low's and Burney's, which have also been preserved in the Survey Office, originally at Penang and of late years at Singapore. The former bears date 1821; the latter is undated, but was probably compiled at the time Captain Burney negotiated the Siamese Treaty of 1826. Col. (then Lt.) Low confined his sketch almost entirely to the northern provinces of Siam. Captain Burney's tracing includes Kedah, Singora, and Patani; and the care with which he compiled it may be gathered from the "memorandum" at the side, from which I quote the following passage:—


text:
Page:A Grammar of the Telugu language.djvu/48

30 The year A. D. 1840 in which this Grammar is printed corresponds with the æra named after Vicramaditya 1897—8, the latter commencing on 3 April.

The salivahana year 1762—3 the latter commencing on 3 April.

With the Nejree year 1255—6 the latter commencing on 6 March.

With the Fusly year 1249—50 the latter commencing on 12 July. In this year no months are reckoned.

The year of the Hindu Cycle named sarvari commences on 11 April 1840.

The following are the names of the Telugu months.


text:
Page:กม ร ๘ - ๒๔๗๘ fixed.pdf/1186

 when the injured person institutes a case himself without submitting prior complaint;

when a written denunciation is made in the form of anonymous letter or the person who makes an oral denunciation refuses to declare who he is or refuses to sign the denunciation or record thereof.

An injured person may submit a complaint to an inquiry official.

Such complaint must contain, as far as possible, the name and address of the complainant, the nature of the offence, all the circumstances under which the offence has been committed, the injury suffered, and the name or identity of the offender.

This complaint may be submitted in written or oral form. If it is in writing, it must contain the day, month, and year, as well as the signature of the complainant. If it is in orality, the inquiry official shall record it and have it affixed with the day, month, and year, as well as the signatures of the recorder and the complainant.

An injured person may submit a complaint to an administrative or police official whose functions are inferior or superior to an inquiry official and whose duties are to maintain peace and order according to the law.

title: Page:กม ร ๘ - ๒๔๗๘ fixed.pdf/1186


text:
Page:Journal of the Straits Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society (IA journalofstrait121878roya).pdf/97

 "The Coast and Islands between Pal Phra and Prince of Wales' Island are set down after comparing Horsburgh's, Forrest's, Blair's, Heather's, Iuverarity's, Martin Lindsay's and Dupres de Mennevillete's Charts with maps and descriptions obtained from several Malayan aud Siamese Pilots, as well as with what was observed by ourselves during our passage to and from Pungah. Of all the European Charts; the two oldest, Daprès de Mannevillite's and Martin Lindsay's, appear by far the most correct. Some information also respecting the towns on the Gulf of Siam and the country round Pungah, was received from Padre Juan, a Native Catholic Priest residing near that town; and it is but just to acknowledge that very great assistance was derived during the progress of the Mission, from the descriptive sketch of the Malayan Peninsula compiled by Mr. John Anderson, Malay translator to Government."

What Capt. Burney says about the superior correctness of the older charts, now holds good about the older maps; for nothing has been produced since his date that can vie with his own sketch in practical usefulness or careful execution. Indeed the old Navigators, the Dampiers and Forrests of the 17th and 18th centuries, appear to have been succeeded of late years by the Indian Officers, until recently stationed or employed in these parts, Col. Low, Capts. Burney, Newbold, Begbie, &c., to whose eagerness for knowledge we owe so much of the little information we possess about the Malay Peninsula.

From the time when Logan's Journals ceased to appear a long night settled down upon the Straits, lasting some twenty years. It is difficult for those who were not here before 1874 to realise how little was then known of the Peninsula. Kwala Kangsa and Selâma were names unknown; S. Ujong and Sri Menanti were little better; Muar, Birnam, Perak, and Kurau could not then be named without an affectation of special, not to say pedantic knowledge. I do not believe that any person then knew of the true course of the R. Perak, or of the short route from Larut to Ulu Perak, which I have already called the key to the geography of that part; and as to which it has been seen that Captain Forrest ninety years before had possessed some information. But within two years of the Pangkor Treaty, thanks to Sir A. Clarke's initiative and the development of events, this state of things was entirely changed. Information had been collected in many districts. The journey from Larut to Perak, and down the latter river, which was performed in 1874 by Messrs. Dunlop, Swettenhamn and Pickering, effected for


text:
Page:Journal of the Straits Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society (IA journalofstrait121878roya).pdf/98

 that part of the Peninsula, what the journey by Messrs. Daly and O'Brien, up the Muar and down the Pahang, effected for the true understanding of the relations, whether physical or political, which exist between the States of Johor, Pahang, and the Negri Sembilan, in the South of the Peninsula. The journey of M. de Maclay in 1875 must also he mentioned, as throwing light on the unknown Central regions. Of these three journeys, so important to our Cartography, some record should here be made; more especially as no account of them bas ever been published in a permanent or generally accessible form. I have therefore selected the most striking feature of each account to conclude this paper. But it would be invidious not to refer also to certain earlier journeys, viz: that of Mr. Charles Gray (via Malacca, Naning, Jumpol and Pahang in 1825, I. A. Journal vol. VI, p. 369); of Mr. Logan (via Singapore, Indau, Semrong, Blumut, and Johor in 1817, I. A. Journal II, p. 616); and of the Rev. Le Favre (via Johor, Benut, and Batu Pahat in 1846; and again via Malacca, Rambau, Sungei-Ujong and Jelebu in 1847, I. A. Journal vols. I & II). I hope to avail myself largely of these accounts in Part II of this paper, when I treat of the geography of each State; but it is the less necessary to quote from them here, as they are already preserved in an accessible form.

I will however take this opportunity of recommending their careful perusal to all those who are good enough to assist in rendering our new map more complete. I find that a good deal of the information furnished from time to time obviously lacks the advantage of having undergone comparison with the local details collected by earlier writers, and this is a grave loss when the writers are such as l'abbé Favre, and the late Mr. Logan.

I. (Extract from the Journal of Messrs. Dunlop, Swettenham and Pickering, during the crossing from Larut to K. Kangsa February 12, 1871.)

"We started at 1.30p.m.and within half an hour, got into the finest jungle we have yet seen, crossed incessantly by a beautiful clear stream. This jungle was filled with the brightest scarlet and yellow flowers; there were numbers of orchids. After continually ascending till we came to the source of the stream, we began to descend again, following the course of another stream running in the opposite direction. All this time we had been going through a narrow valley, Bukit Berapit forming one side of it, and as we came out into the open, we stood in front of one of the most extraordinary rocks I have ever seen, called Gunong Pondok.


text: Page:My neighbours (IA myneighbours00evaniala).pdf/36


text: Page:My neighbours (IA myneighbours00evaniala).pdf/82


text: Page:My neighbours (IA myneighbours00evaniala).pdf/122


text: Page:My neighbours (IA myneighbours00evaniala).pdf/160


text: Page:My neighbours (IA myneighbours00evaniala).pdf/192


text: Page:My neighbours (IA myneighbours00evaniala).pdf/222


text: Page:My neighbours (IA myneighbours00evaniala).pdf/238


text:
Page:Journal of the Straits Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society (IA journalofstrait121878roya).pdf/99

 "We had just come out of a narrow valley, filled with dense jungle and not very high bills on each side. Coming out of this, the valley now level and comparatively clear, widened out abruptly, so that it became an extensive plain. Close in front of us, rather on the left, rose as it were straight out of a plain as level as the sea, a large rock, some 800 feet high, partly covered with trees, partly bare rock in sheer precipices."

"The rock itself is formed of limestone, and it is that curious looking hill, commonly called Bukit Gantang which, when seen from the sea, forms the chief land mark for entering the Larut river. The only hill I have seen at all like it is "Elephant Mount" in Kedah, and we could see that Gunong Pondok resembles the mount, in the fact of its being full of caves. On our right was Bukit Berapit and this stretches away to the right, in a range of gradually lessening hills. Right in front of us, a beautiful valley, some twenty miles long, almost all cultivated or partly so, shut in the distance by the hills in the interior of Perak."

February 14th at 11.45 a.m. we arrived within 150 yards of our destination, only to find we were on the wrong side of a wide and deep river. It is no use attempting to argue a point like this, so we undressed and swam across. The others came up and had to go through the same performance. The river we came across was the Kangsa, which here runs into the Perak river, a stream about 200 yards broad; and we are looking forward with considerable pleasure to a three days' journey down it."

II. (Extract from Mr. Daly's Journal during the crossing from Ulu Muar and Jampol to Pahang, 1875.

"I cannot get even our man to accompany us, although we have offered very high wages,—so we are starting by ourselves. This is a drawback to me, as I always like to get some man who can give me the native names of rivers, hills, and kampongs, wherever I go."

"They say, as one of the objections to our going to Pahang, that we cannot find our way through the lake (Tassek Berâ) which we have to cross to strike again the stream that runs into the Pahang river. I apprehend more difficulty in getting the boat over the shoals and snags of the "Ilir Serêting."

"The Malays of this place won't go with us, as they say that they are sure to be killed by the "orang utan" (wild men) of the jungle of Pahang."


text:
Page:Journal of the Straits Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society (IA journalofstrait121878roya).pdf/100

 "Got the boat cleared out, freshly caulked, and got galas (poles), kajangs, and rudder, and floated her. She seems too large for the work, but "beggars etc."

"August, 16th.—Unable to persuade any one even to help us in getting the boat under way, we started on our journey to Pahang. The party consists of O'Brien, the three police and myself—and provisions for 10 days, viz: rice, tea, a few tins of sardines and powder and shot—relying upon shooting a few pigeons now and then for fresh meat."

"At starting from Kwala Jumpol had great difficulty in getting the prahu over the sandy bars, and, though the distance from the Kwala up the River Jumpol to the place where the boats are taken overland at Penarri is only about 1 mile, we took over three hours dragging the boat. It is a very narrow steam, choked with fallen timber and sand banks overhanging with the mach dreaded thorns, called "unas" by the Malays, that resemble tigers' claws and tear everything they lay hold of. Nearly all the time we were in the water dragging the boat along."

"On arriving at Penarri we took everything out of the boat and carried the things across to the River Ilir Serêting, and in the evening we managed to get fourteen men at ten cents a head to pull the boat across the dividing land from River Jumpol to River Ilir Serêting. I measured the distance from one river to the other,—it is 24 chains or a little more than a quarter of a mile; There is a rise of 25 feet from the river bed up the first bank, and we were a long time pulling the heavy boat up to the level land. Long bamboos were lashed to the fore thwart of the boat and all hands hauled at the bamboos—the knots on the bamboo giving good holding power. It was a fine moonlight night and the excitable Malays worked with a will, making a great noise.

"When we had got the boat across, after two hours' work, and safely deposited in the other river, I sent up a couple of rockets to their great delight and paid them. Gave quinine to a great many who had remittent fever and ague.

"It is a great relief to have got so far, and away from the Kwala Jumpol people who are foolish and suspicious from ignorance, and who were threatening mischief.

III. (From Ulu Pahang to Ulu Kelantan. A short Itinerary, compiled from the note book kept by M. de Maclay, 1875.)


text:
The Pines of Lory/Chapter 1

HE Maid of the North was ready for sea.

Only the touch of the engineer was wanting to send her, once again, on a homeward voyage to the St. Lawrence. Meanwhile, in solemn undertones, she was breathing forth her superabundant steam.

Behind the wharf lay the city of Boston.

A score of passengers, together with friends who had come aboard to see them off, were scattered about the little steamer. Among them, on the after deck, indifferent to the hot June sun, moved a gentleman of aristocratic mien. His raiment was above reproach. He gave the impression of being a distinguished person. But this impression was delusive, his distinction being merely social. He was too well provided for, too easily clever and in too many ways, to achieve renown in any field requiring serious labor.

He inhaled the salt air as it came in from the sea, took out his watch, scanned the wharf, picked a thread from his sleeve, and twirled, somewhat carefully, the ends of a yellow moustache. His glance moved indifferently over various passengers and things about him until it rested on a man, not far away. The man was leaning against the railing of the deck watching the scene upon the wharf below.

The extreme attenuation of this person had already rendered him an object of interest to several passengers. His clothing hung loosely from his shoulders. Both coat and vest were far too roomy for the body beneath, while the trousers bore no relation to his legs. But the emaciated face, deeply browned by exposure, told a story of hardship and starvation rather than of ordinary sickness. Two thin, dark hands that rested on the ship’s rail seemed almost transparent.

The aristocratic gentleman regarded this person with increasing interest. He approached the railing himself and furtively studied the stranger’s profile. Then, with an expression in his face less blasé than heretofore, he approached the man and stood behind him. Laying a hand on one of the shoulders to prevent his victim turning, he said:

“I beg your pardon, sir, but could you tell me the name of this town?”

There was a short silence. Then the stranger answered, in a serious tone, and with no effort to see his questioner:

“This is Boston, the city of respectability–and other delights.”

“Yes?”

“It is also the home of a man who doesn’t seem to have matured with the passing years.”

“Well, who is that man?”

“A fellow that might have been a famous tenor if he had a voice–and some idea of music.”

The other man laughed, removed his hand, and his friend turned about. Then followed a greeting as between old intimates, long separated. And such was the mutual pleasure that a neighboring spectator, many years embittered by dyspepsia, so far forgot himself as to allow a smile of sympathy to occupy his face.

The countenance of the attenuated person was unusual; not from any peculiarity of feature, but from its invincible cheerfulness. This cheerfulness was constitutional, and contagious. His face seemed nearly ten years younger than it was; for the unquenchable good-humor having settled there in infancy had thwarted the hand of time. No signs of discouragement, of weariness or worry had gained a footing. There were no visible traces of unwelcome experience. While distinctly a thoughtful face, good-humor and a tranquil spirit were the two things most clearly written. His eyes were gray–frank, honest, mirthful, with little wrinkles at the corners when he smiled.

After many questions had been asked and answered, the more pretentious gentleman laid a hand affectionately on the other’s arm, and said:

“But what has happened to you, Pats? How thin you are! You look like a ghost–a mahogany ghost.”

“Fever. A splendid case of South African fever.”

“Too bad! Are you well over it?”

“Yes, over the fever; but still tottery. My strength has not come home yet. And the lead was a set back.”

“You mean bullets?”

“Yes. I caught two, but they are both out. I am getting along all right now.”

“And you have just reached America?”

“Landed in New York yesterday; got here this morning at half-past seven, found my family were up on the St. Lawrence, and here I am. But what are you doing on this boat?”

“Oh, I just came down to see somebody off.”

An excess of indifference in the manner of this reply did not escape the friend from Africa. With a sidelong glance at his companion, he said, “A man, of course.”

“How clever you are, Pats!”

“No need of being clever, Billy, when you advertise your secret by blushing like a girl of fifteen.”

“Blush! I, blush! How old do you think I am? Ten?”

“Yes all of that. But if you didn’t actually blush, old man, you did look foolish. And this explains a state-room full of flowers that I noticed. Is that her bower?”

“I think so.”

“Well, who is she, Billy? You might as well tell me, for I shall be sure to discover if she goes on this boat.”

“Elinor Marshall.”

“Elinor Marshall? Why, that name is familiar. Where have I heard it?”

“She is a friend of your sisters.”

“Of course!”

“And she is going to your place now, on a visit.”

“Good! I’ll cut you out. Is she fond of bones?”

Mr. William Townsend did not answer, but he looked at his watch. “She ought to be here now. The boat sails at ten-thirty, doesn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“It’s ten, now. I shall trot you up as soon as she arrives.”

“Thanks. You will excuse my asking a cruel question, old man, but you certainly did not send all the flowers in that cabin?”

“Oh, no!”

“Then there are other–appreciators?”

“Yes.”

Mr. Patrick Boyd, with a slight gesture toward two carefully attired gentlemen who were pacing the wharf, raised his eyebrows interrogatively.

His companion smiled. “Yes. She can also have either of them, and without the asking.”

The attenuated man regarded the two gentlemen with interest. “That chap has a familiar face.”

“Which? The one with the bouquet?”

“No; the one with the nose.”

“That’s Hamilton Goddard.”

“To be sure! And I should know his friend was a lover. His anxious glances up the wharf, and those flowers give him away. Such roses are for no aunt or sister.”

“Better for him if they were!”

“Why? No chance?”

“Well, that is not for me to say. But he is one of those fearfully earnest chaps, with a tragic soul, and a rebuff would be a dangerous thing for him.”

“Poor devil!”

And the man of cheerful countenance slowly wagged his head, as he added, in a sympathetic voice, “This being in love seems a painful pleasure.”

Mr. William Townsend regarded his friend with half-shut eyes, and asked, “Are you still the superior person who defies the–the malady?”

“Even so.”

“You never had it?”

“Never.”

“How old are you?”

“Thirty.”

“Then it’s a lie.”

“It’s the truth. Of course I have known very fine girls who caused the usual thrills, whose conservatory kisses I should never undervalue. But when it comes to the fatuous delirium–the celestial idiocy that queers the brain and impairs the vision–why, I have been unlucky, that’s all.”

“You are a liar, Pats. Just a liar.”

“Mumps have been mine, and measles; and I have fooled with grape juice, but that other drunkenness has been denied me.”

His companion’s grunt of incredulity was followed by the exclamation:

“There she comes!”

The two men below had halted, wheeled about, and were watching an approaching carriage. Down the wharf with this equipage came an atmosphere of solidity and opulence, of luxury and perfect taste. On the box, in quiet livery, sat a driver and a footman. The driver, from his bearing and appearance, could easily have passed for the president of a college. As the carriage halted before the gang plank, the gentleman with the nose stepped forward and opened the door, while he of the roses stood by with a radiant visage, his hat in one hand, his offering in the other.

First, emerged an elderly gentleman, tall, slender, and acutely respectable. After him, a girl descended, also tall and slender. She was followed by a maid, and a Catholic priest. As the young lady stood for a moment conversing with the two admirers, her glance, in running over the little steamer, encountered Mr. Townsend, and she nodded pleasantly.

“Lovely! Enchanting!” murmured the man from Africa.

“Of course she is! Come down, and I’ll present you.”

“But, first, tell me something about her. What are the interesting facts?”

“Why, there’s nothing to tell–that I can think of.”

“Of course there is! There must be! Women like that don’t bloom in every garden. What a patrician type! And all that black hair! She is unusual.”

“Well, she is unusual, Pats. She is a splendid girl,—an orphan; and she is giving her fortune all away.”

“The devil! And to whom?”

“To philanthropy; to societies for the advancement of woman; to hospitals and other bottomless pits. But above all to the Catholic Church.”

“Too bad! She doesn’t look so unintelligent.”

“No: and she is not. Her mother and sister, all that remained of her family, were both drowned in the same accident, and the shock upset her for a time.”

“And it was then the Church got in its work? That explains the Holy Roman Cherub who seems to be along.”

“Yes; that’s Father Burke. He is a part of the comedy.”

“Comedy! It’s a blood-curdling drama! Hasn’t she a brother or some relative to reach out a hand and save her?”

“She doesn’t care to be saved. She is one of those women with a conscience. A big one: the sort that becomes a disease unless taken in time.”

“I know. She feels guilty if she’s happy. But she doesn’t look all that. She seems a trifle earnest, perhaps, but very human, and with real blood in her veins.”

Mr. Townsend sighed–a long, deep sigh that seemed to come from below his waist. “Yes, she was mighty good company and rather jolly before the vultures closed in on her.”

“Is she really in the coils of the anaconda?”

“I am afraid so. She won’t talk about it herself,–at least, not with Protestants,–but some of her friends say she thinks of going into a convent.”

“Well,” said Patrick Boyd, with a sudden warmth, as they turned to go below, “all I can say is, that the institution, sacred or secular, that tries to lure such a girl into a convent ought to be hustled into space.”

“Amen to that!”

title: The Pines of Lory/Chapter 1


text:
The Pines of Lory/Chapter 2

N hour later, as the Maid of the North was steaming for the open sea, the man from Africa and his new acquaintance formed a group on the after deck.

The day was a rare one, even for early June. Across the surface of the water–now a sparkling, joyful blue–the air came free and full of life. This air was exhilarating. It inspired Father Burke to tell a funny anecdote, and he did it well. For not only did Father Burke possess a sense of humor, but his heavy, benevolent face, white hair, and deep voice gave unusual impressiveness to whatever he chose to utter. Even Mr. Appleton Marshall, a victim of acute Bostonia, eluded for a time his own self-consciousness. He soon went below, however, to revel, undisturbed, in a conservative local paper. Mr. Patrick Boyd,–or Pats, as we may as well call him,–being always of a buoyant spirit, added liberally to the general cheer.

The young lady regarded this addition to her party with a peculiar interest. She knew that the mention of his name in his own family was for years a thing forbidden. Just how bad he was, or how innocent, she had never learned. And now, as she studied, furtively, this exile of uncertain reputation, and as she recognized the open nature, the fortitude, the tranquil spirit, all unmistakably written in his emaciated, sunburnt face, her curiosity was quickened. She knew that Sally, his elder sister,–her own intimate friend,–had persisted in a correspondence with her brother against her father’s wishes. And that, perhaps, was in his favor. At least, he had a good mouth and honest eyes. His neck, his hands, and his legs were preternaturally thin, and she wondered if the gap between his collar and his throat told a truthful story of South African fever. If so, the change had been appalling. However, neither bullets nor fever had reduced his spirits.

The conversation touched on many things. When she happened to say that this was her first visit to the Boyds’ Canadian house, he replied:

“And mine too.”

“Have you never seen it?” she asked in surprise.

“Never. My father bought this place about ten years ago, and I have been away over thirteen years.”

“I had forgotten you had been away so long.”

With a smile and a slight inclination of his head, he replied:

“That you should know of my existence is a flattering surprise. Any mention of my name, I understand, was a state’s prison offence until my father died.”

“Not quite so bad as that.”

“A man’s fame is not apt to flourish when corked up in a bottle and laid away in a closet, with ‘Poison’ on the label.”

Here was a chance to gratify a natural curiosity, and he seemed willing to throw light on the mystery. She was about to offer the necessary encouragement, when Father Burke took the conversation into less personal fields. It may have been the contagion of this young man’s cheerfulness, or the reaction on the lady’s part from an acute religious tension, but the priest had noticed Miss Marshall was awakening to a livelier enjoyment of her surroundings. The spontaneity and freedom of her laughter, on one or two occasions, had caused him a certain uneasiness. Not that Father Burke was averse to merriment. Too much of it, however, for this particular maiden and at this critical period, might cause a divergence from the Holy Roman path along which he now was escorting her. So he gave some interesting facts concerning this summer residence of the Boyds, winding up with the information that the hunting and fishing, all about there, were unusual.

“But we women cannot hunt and fish all day!”

“Perhaps it’s like Heaven,” said Pats, “where there’s nothing to do except to realize what a good time you are having.”

“I hope that is not your idea of a woman’s ambition.”

“What better business on a summer’s day?”

“Many things,” replied the priest, “if she has a soul to expand and a mind to cultivate.”

“But I was speaking of the natural, unvarnished woman we all enjoy and are not afraid of.”

Miss Marshall, in a politely contemptuous manner, inquired, “Then, personally, you find the intelligent woman of high ideals less congenial than–the other kind?”

“I find the superior woman with a gift of language is a thing that makes brave men tremble. I think wisdom should be tempered with mercy.”

After a pause, and with a touch of sarcasm, she replied:

“That is quite interesting. A fresh point of view always broadens the horizon.”

Ignoring her tone, he answered in an off-hand, amiable way:

“Of course there is no reason why a woman should not enter politics or anything else, if she wishes. And there is no reason why a rose should not aspire to be a useful potato. But potatoes will always be cheaper than roses.”

She smiled wearily and leaned back. As their eyes met he detected a look of disappointment–perhaps at her discovery of yet one more man like all the others, earthy and superficial. But she merely said, and in a gentle tone:

“You forget that while all men are wise, all women are not beautiful.”

With a deep sigh he replied, “The profundity of your contempt I can only guess at. Whatever it is, I share it. We are a poor lot.

Which is all true except the last line.”

She smiled. “You are too severe. I consider man the highest form of animal life–after the dog and the elephant.”

“Then where does woman come in?”

“Oh–as man’s satellite she is hard to place. Her proper position might be anywhere between the peacock and the parrot.”

Pats shook his head, slowly and sadly. “That’s an awful utterance!”

“But it enables you to realize her vanity in aspiring to the wisdom of man.”

Father Burke laughed. “Fighting the Boer, Captain Boyd, is a different thing from skirmishing with the American girl.”

“Indeed it is! For on the battle-field there is always one chance of victory. But I have not been fighting the Boers. I was trying to help the Boers against the English.”

“Ah, good!” said the priest. “You were on the right side.”

But the lady shook her head. “I don’t know about that. I should have joined the English and fought against the Boers.”

“But, my dear child,” exclaimed Father Burke, “the cause of the Boers is so manifestly the cause of right and justice! They were fighting for their freedom,–the very existence of their country.”

“Possibly, but the English officers are very handsome, and so stylish! And the Boers are common creatures–mostly farmers.”

Pats regarded her in surprise. “That doesn’t affect the principle of the thing. Even a farmer has rights.”

“Principles are so tiresome!” and she looked away, as if the subject wearied her.

“Does it make no difference with your sympathies,” he asked with some earnestness, “whether a man is in the right or in the wrong? Would you have had no sympathy for the Greeks at Marathon?”

She raised her eyebrows, and with a faint shrug replied, “I am sure I don’t know. Was that an important battle?”

“Very.”

“In South Africa?”

Pats thought, at first, this question was in jest. She looked him serenely in the face, however, and he saw nothing in her eyes but the expectation of a serious answer to a simple question. Before he was ready with a reply, she inquired:

“Were you at that battle?”

He was so bewildered by this question, and from such a woman, that for a moment he could not respond. Father Burke, however, in his calm, paternal voice, gave the required facts.

“The battle of Marathon was fought about twenty miles from Athens between the Greeks and invading Persians nearly five hundred years before Christ.”

“Ah, yes, to be sure!” she murmured, indifferently, her eyes looking over the sea.

Pats, who was sitting in front of his two companions, regarded her in surprise. As she finished speaking, he turned away his head, but still watching her from the corners of his eyes. Her own glance, with an amused expression, went at once to his face, as he anticipated. He laughed aloud in a frank, boyish way as their eyes met. “I knew you had some sinister motive in that speech. You almost fooled me.”

And she smiled as she retorted, “I was merely trying to please you. You say you are averse to intelligence in a woman.”

“Well, I take it all back. I am averse to nothing in a woman, except absence.”

Father Burke took all this in, and he disapproved. Captain Boyd was by no means the sort of man he would have selected for companion to this maiden. The young man’s appreciation of the lady herself was too honest and too evident. It bore, to the observant priest, suspicious resemblance to a tender passion unskilfully concealed. Perilous food for a yearning spirit! Of course she was heavenly minded, and spiritual to the last degree, at present; but she was mortal. And the soul of a girl like Elinor Marshall was too precious an object to be thrown away on a single individual–above all, on a Protestant. Was it not already the property of The Church? And then, there was little consolation in the knowledge that she was to be in constant intercourse with this man for a week, and during that time beyond all priestly influence.

The Maid of the North, until she passed Deer Island, bore a cheerful band of passengers. Then, in the open sea, she turned her nose a little more to the north, and while riding the waves as merrily as ever, she did it with a greater variety of motion. And this variety of motion, a complex, unhallowed shifting of the deck, first sidewise down, then lengthwise up, then all together and further down–with a nauseating quiver–was emphasized by zephyrs from the engine-room and kitchen–zephyrs redolent with oil and cooking and bilge water. All these, in time, began to trifle with the interiors of certain passengers, and to paralyze their mirth.

Among early victims was Mr. Appleton Marshall. After storing his mind with the financial news and social gossip of the morning paper, he had rejoined his friends. Sitting beside his niece, he participated, at intervals, in the conversation, his manner becoming more and more distant until, at last, it vanished altogether. To all who cared to see, it was plain that this stately and usually complacent gentleman was losing interest in external matters.

He seemed annoyed when a steward, about one o’clock, appeared on deck and rang a bell, announcing dinner. At this summons Patrick Boyd took out his watch and was obviously astonished at the flight of time.

“I had forgotten my friend,” he exclaimed, and he hurried below.

At the dinner-table Elinor Marshall sat between her confessor and her uncle, the latter clinging bravely to his post through the soup and fish. Then, after watching for a moment the various viands as they rose and fell with the heaving of the ship, accompanied, as it seemed to him, by a similar rising and sinking of his own digestive apparatus, he remarked, with some severity, that he felt no hunger. And he left the table with dignity, yet with a certain expedition. As the uncle disappeared, Patrick Boyd came in and took a seat opposite the lady and the priest.

“How did you find your friend?” Father Burke inquired.

“Discouraged.”

“Poor fellow! Nothing serious, I hope.”

“No. But he doesn’t quite understand this starting right off again on another voyage.”

“Is he–er–is his mind affected?”

This question appeared to surprise Captain Boyd. “No. But they have fastened him to a windlass, near the engine-room, and he resents it.”

This reply merely intensified the curiosity of the questioner.

“Did you say they have fastened him?”

“Yes. It seems to be a rule of the boat.”

The young lady also opened her eyes. After a pause, she inquired, in a low voice, “Is he dangerous?”

“No, indeed! Not at all!”

“Then why tie him?”

“It is a rule of the boat, as I said.”

“A rule of the boat to tie passengers?”

At this question Pats smiled, for a light broke in upon him. “My friend is a dog. I thought I told you.”

“A dog!” and she seemed to find diversion in the seriousness with which Father Burke accepted the explanation. “I love dogs. Why shouldn’t I go down and see him?”

“The honor would be appreciated.”

“I will go after dinner. What sort of a dog is he?”

“A setter.”

“And what is his name?”

Pats hesitated. “Do you really wish to know?”

“Of course!”

“Well, his full name is Jan Bartholomeus Van Vlotens Couwenhorn Van der Helst Poffenburgh.”

“Then he is Dutch.”

“Yes. He was the property of four officers, and each owner bestowed a portion of his name.”

“What do you call him for short?”

“Solomon.”

“Solomon!”

“At first we called him Jan, but the other three sponsors objected. They said it was favoritism. So we all agreed on Solomon for every day use.”

“And he never resented it?”

“No. He understood it as a tribute to his extraordinary wisdom.”

She seemed amused. “Is he so very remarkable?”

“Well,” said Pats, laying down his knife and fork, and giving his whole attention to the subject, “as to general intelligence, foresight, logic, and a knowledge of human nature, he is a wonder, even for a dog. And when it comes to dignity and tact, ease of manner and freedom from personal vanity, why–the other Solomon was a beginner.”

She nodded and smiled approval. “I know something of dogs and men, and I can easily believe it. Certain men exist, however, who are mentally superior to dogs. But it’s the moral gulf between the two species that is so disheartening.”

“All owing to the fatal power of speech.”

“Possibly.”

“I am sure of it. If dogs could talk, they would abuse the power, as humans do, and soon descend to the human level. They would lose the dignity that silence alone bestows, and become bores–like the rest of us.” With a deferential movement of his head toward the priest, he added, “Except as they apply to myself, these remarks are in no way personal.”

As Father Burke, with a perfunctory smile, bowed acknowledgment, the girl at his side inquired, with a serious face, “Well, what can be done?”

Pats, with equal seriousness, replied, “How would it do to establish an institute for the propagation of silence?”

“The millennium would be in sight!” she exclaimed.

“And instead of rhetoric and declamation teach economy in words; show the pupils by illustration and example how much better they look when their mouths are not open.”

“A very sensible idea! And award medals to those who attain the highest flights of silence.”

“The very thought is restful,” said Pats. “And would you mind if I offered Solomon a professorship?”

“Not at all! It would look rather well in the catalogue, ‘Solomon Boyd, Instructor in Moral Philosophy and Deportment.’”

With a glance at the mirthless face of the reverend gentleman beside her, she added, “And on the dome of the college shall be a colossal statue of Father Burke, in solid gold. He has not uttered a word in half an hour.”

The priest answered pleasantly, but the tone of the conversation had given him little pleasure. Folly was in the air, and Elinor Marshall, to his surprise, seemed in harmony with it. Heretofore he had known her as a thoughtful, serious-minded woman, with a leaning to melancholy; and this unexpected and evidently enjoyable flight–or plunge–into pure nonsense, caused him a distinct uneasiness. The girl was brightening up, even becoming merry; a state of mind that never leads to a nunnery.

In this conversation, which ran on with rare intervals of seriousness until the meal was ended, Father Burke took no part. And when the younger people had gone below for their interview with Solomon, he decided, after long reflection, that considering the gravity of the case his obvious duty was to drop a word in the lady’s ear concerning this new acquaintance. The rest of the Boyds–the two sisters–were good Catholics, and from them there was nothing to fear. But if he, Father Burke, could counteract the influence of this interesting heretic, it would be a pious work. He must find his opportunity for an earnest conversation, and before she landed.

The more he meditated, the more anxious he became. But Fate, the practical joker,–the fickle, the ruthless, the forever mocking,–was only waiting to lay his enemy at his feet.

title: The Pines of Lory/Chapter 2


text:
The Pines of Lory/Chapter 3

OWARD the end of that day it became evident, in the west, that preparations were going on for an American sunset. Preliminary colors, chiefly gold and crimson, crept swiftly across the sky. These colors, more dazzling as the sun approached the water, were caught and tossed about upon the surface of the sea until all the universe seemed ablaze.

Of this gorgeous spectacle Elinor Marshall, in a sheltered corner of the deck, was an appreciative witness.

Pats, in his mercy, had decided to allow the lady a respite from his society, at least during a portion of the afternoon. The lady, however, was so much more interesting than anything else aboard that he finally ignored his better judgment. And now, leaning against the rail in front of her, he found the sunset duller, more monotonous and commonplace than the human combination in the steamer-chair. She, however, her head thrown back, with half-closed eyes, seemed fascinated by the glories in the west, and almost unconscious of his presence. As too much staring might cause annoyance, he did most of it on the sly. And the opportunity was good. As a mystery, she proved an absorbing study: an irresistible blending of contradictions, of sympathy and reserve, of sadness–and of wit–of a character and temperament not half-divulged. Whenever their eyes met, he felt a mild commotion, a curious, unfamiliar excitement,–something that made him less at ease. For it invariably brought the keenest anxiety as to her good opinion. He also experienced a consciousness of guilt; why, he knew not, unless from the expression of her eyes. They seemed to be reading his thoughts, and to be a trifle saddened by the result. That, in itself, was disconcerting.

He began to see why those other fellows were in love with her. Although fireproof himself, he understood, now that he knew her better, the nature of the conflagration that devoured the men in Boston.

In her sensitive face, in her reserve, and in her sometimes melancholy air, he saw traces of inward struggles between a passionate, impulsive, pleasure-loving nature and standards of virtue unattainably high. And when he remembered that she was doomed to the seclusion of a convent, that this life, with every promise of being exceptionally rich and full, was to be crushed, deadened and forever lost to the outer human world, his resentment became difficult to suppress. He wondered, in a hot, disjointed way, if there was no possibility of a rescue.

Awakening from a revery, she caught him in the act, regarding her with earnest eyes, and with a frown. He also came back to earth–or to the boat–suddenly, and he observed a slight movement of her eyebrows as in surprise or disapproval. With a guilty air, he looked away, and she wondered if the warmer color in his mahogany cheeks came entirely from the sunset. After an awkward silence, he said.

“I beg your pardon for staring at you. You are so very contradictory, and in so many ways, that I took the liberty of guessing at your real character; whether after all you are unpleasantly perfect, or whether it is merely your luck to possess an awe-inspiring exterior.”

She was unable to repress a laugh. “And what have you decided?”

“I have not decided; that is, not finally. I keep arriving at new conclusions. My first impression was that you were a person of frigid altitudes,–severe, exacting, and abnormally superior. Then, later, I have thought you warm-hearted–even impulsive: that your indifference is not always real. But of that, I am not sure. Still, I believe you possess a lower and a better nature.”

“You seem to have made wonderful discoveries in a very few hours.”

“I have been working hard.”

“I hope the verdict is favorable.”

“Well, yes–in a way.”

“So bad as that!”

“No, not bad at all. It is merely that you have bullied your natural character. You have made it toe the mark and behave itself. Never given it any vacations, perhaps.”

She regarded him intently, as if in doubt as to his meaning.

“But you don’t know the cause,” he added.

She made no reply.

“The cause,” he said, “is the expression of your face.”

“Ah!”

“Yes. It is impossible for any being of earthly origin to possess the celestial qualities promised in your countenance. It is out of harmony with terrestrial things. Why, when those three men put out their hands this morning for you to touch, I held my breath at their presumption. I looked for three bolts from heaven to wither the extended arms.”

“And your own face, Mr. Boyd, gives no indication of the subtleness of your irony: unkind, perhaps, but extremely clever.”

“Irony! Never! I had no such thought! I am merely announcing the discovery that with a different exterior you would have been less perfect; but more comfortable.”

“If this is not irony, it is something still more offensive. I gave you credit for a finer touch.”

“I may be clumsy, but not malicious.”

“Then explain.”

“Well, you see, having a tender conscience, you have felt a sense of fraud whenever confronted by your own reflection. Being human, you have had, presumably, ambitions, envies, appetites, prejudices, vanities, and other human ills of which the face before you gave no indication. And so, feeling the preternatural excellence of that face a lie, you have tried to live up to it; that is, to avoid being a humbug. In short, your life has been a strenuous endeavor to be unnecessarily wise and impossibly good.”

As their side of the steamer rose high above the sea, after an unusual plunge, he added: “And I am afraid you have succeeded.”

She remained silent, lost apparently in another revery, watching the changes in the west.

The light was fading. On sea and sky a more melancholy tone had come,–dull, slaty grays crowding in from every quarter. And over the darkening waters there seemed a tragic note, half-threatening, intensified by every plunge of the steamer and by the swish of waters very near the deck. There was a touch of melancholy, also, in the steady thumping of the engines.

She said at last, pleasantly, but in a serious tone:

“I have been reflecting on your discourse. If ironical, it was unkind. If sincere, it was–not impertinent perhaps, but certainly not justified by our short acquaintance.”

“True: and I beg your pardon. But was it correct?”

“I hope not.”

Something in her manner invited a discontinuance of that particular topic. He drew an attenuated hand across his mouth, changed his position, as if on the point of saying more; but he held his peace.

Some minutes later, when Miss Marshall’s maid approached this silent couple, her progress, owing to the movement of the deck, consisted of rapid little runs followed by sudden pauses, during which she hung with one hand to the rail and with the other clutched her hat. She had come up to ask if her mistress needed anything. Was she warm enough? Would she have another wrap? Miss Marshall needed nothing herself, but asked for news of Mr. Appleton Marshall, and if Father Burke was feeling better. Louise had seen nothing of Mr. Marshall since dinner, but she had left Father Burke reclining in the main saloon, not very sick, nor very well, but lower in his mind. As her maid departed, the lady expressed sympathy for the suffering uncle. “And poor Father Burke! He is terribly uncomfortable, I am sure.”

“Yes,” said Pats. “I saw in his face a look of uncertainty: the wavering faith that comes from meals with an upward tendency.”

Pats thought this want of sympathy was resented.

“He is a most lovable man,” she said, “of fine character, and with a splendid mind. You would like him if you knew him better.”

Here was his opportunity; his chance for a rescue. He would snatch her from the clutches of the Romish Brute. A few stabs in the monster’s vitals might accomplish wonders. So he answered, sadly, in a tone of brotherly affection:

“I like him now. That is why I regret that he should devote himself to such a questionable enterprise.”

“What enterprise?”

“His Church.”

With a forced calmness she replied, “This is the only time I ever heard the first religion of Christendom called a ‘questionable enterprise.’”

“Leo X. spoke of it as a ‘profitable fable.’ Perhaps that was better.”

“Did Leo X. say that of the Catholic Church?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t believe it.”

“Because you have too high an opinion of Leo?”

“No; but he was a Pope of Rome, and I simply cannot believe it.”

“Some popes of Rome have been awful examples for the young.”

“So have men in all positions.”

He smiled and shook his head. “Yes, but when they set up as Christ’s apostles, they really should not indulge too freely in assassination and torture: at least, not out of business hours.”

Then in a reflective, somewhat sorrowful manner, he continued, “But the Roman Enterprise has two enemies that are thorns in the flesh, the bath-tub and the printing-press. Wherever they march in, she marches out. The three can’t live together.”

Of this statement there was no recognition, except a straightening up in the steamer-chair.

He continued pleasantly, “In England, Germany, and America, for instance, where these adversaries are in vogue, Catholicism quits. As the devil shrinks from the sign of the Cross, so does the Holy Enterprise gather up its bloody skirts and decamp.”

“Perhaps you forget that in the United States alone there are more than seven million Catholics.”

“But they are not victims of the bath-tub habit.”

“That is not true! There are thousands of exceptions!”

He laughed–an amiable, jolly, yet triumphant laugh–as he retorted, “You admit the truth of it when you call them exceptions.”

In the dim light which had gathered over everything, he could see the delicate eyebrows drawing together in a frown. But he went on, cheerfully, as if giving offence had not occurred to him, “Now Spain is enthusiastically Catholic. And for ignorance,–solid, comprehensive, reliable ignorance,–there is nothing like it in the solar system. You can’t hurt it with a hammer. It defies competition. If a Spaniard were to meet a bath-tub on a lonely highway, he would cross himself and run.”

“Their ignorance is their own fault. Education and progress have always been encouraged by the Catholic Church.”

“Encouraged? Oh!”

“Certainly.”

“You mean by the stake and boiling lead?”

“I do not.”

“When, for example, she notified Galileo that she would roast him alive, as she had already roasted Bruno, if he persisted in his heresy that the earth was round instead of flat?”

“If you are happy in that belief, I will not destroy it.”

“It is a historic fact, but I am no happier for believing it. However, too much education is a nuisance, and very likely Mamma Church was wise in toasting an astronomer now and then.”

“Your conclusions are rather entertaining. I am a Catholic myself, and my own reading has brought opinions that are quite different.”

She spoke calmly, but he detected a less friendly tone. In a joking, incredulous manner he replied, “Well, then, I am a Catholic, too.”

“I am serious. My faith to me is a sacred thing. It has brought me a more tranquil spirit, a deeper knowledge, and a fuller conception of what I owe to others–and to myself.”

She was very much in earnest.

“Then I beg your pardon,” he said, “for speaking as I did.”

She tried to smile. “It is more my fault than yours. Religious discussions never do any good.”

Then she arose from her chair, and he knew from the exceeding dignity of her manner that his offence was serious. But this dignity met with cruel reverses. As she stood up, their side of the steamer was just starting on a downward lurch,–one of those long, deep, quivering plunges, apparently for the bottom of the sea, slow at first, but gaining in rapidity. And Elinor Marshall, instead of turning away with frigid ceremony, as she intended, first stood irresolute, as if taken unawares,–yet suspecting danger,–then tiptoed forward and rushed impetuously into the gentleman’s arms. These arms were forced to encircle the sudden arrival, otherwise both man and woman would have tumbled to the deck. Then, she pushed him hard against the rail. But even that was not the end. For there she held him, to her shame, pressing against him with the whole weight of her body. And this lasted, it seemed to her, an hour–a year–a lifetime of mortification and of helpless rage; the wind all the time screaming louder and louder with a brutish glee.

Her choking exclamations of chagrin were close to his ears, and he felt her hair against his face. But he was powerless to aid in her struggles to regain the lost equilibrium. However good his wishes, he could do nothing but stand as a cushion–poorly upholstered at that–between herself and the rail.

Finally, at the end of time, when the deck came up again, she backed away with flaming cheeks. Pats apologized; so did she. He wished to assist her to the cabin stairs, but the offer was ignored, and she left him.

title: The Pines of Lory/Chapter 3


text:
Page:Journal of the Straits Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society (IA journalofstrait121878roya).pdf/101

 I took about 69 to 70 hours to arrive at the river Tamileng up stream from Kwala Sungei Pahang. The journey was made in a tolerably large flat-bottomed boat, which four Malays pushed forward with long poles, two and two by turns. This kind of transport, which I have met with here, in Johor, Kelantan and almost all over the Malay Peninsula, is used partly on account of the slight depth, but chiefly because of the notable force of the current. In this respect it has a great advantage over the car, for each new push with the pole, holding as it does to the ground, hinders, or at least reduces to a minimum, the backward flow of the current. If, under these circumstances, one reckons the rate of advance at 1 to 1½ miles per hour (which reckoning in any case is not at all too high) then the distance of Kwala Sungei Tamileng from the estnary of the Sungei Pahang (all bendings of the stream included) is about 70 to 80 English miles. Not far from the Kwala Tamileng I found the river Pahang, though somewhat narrower than in its lower stream, was about 40 fathoms wide, or about as broad as in its middle course. At the mouth of the Tamileng on the right bank of that river, lies an important village called Kampong Roh. Here I found it necessary to transfer my rather large covered boat (in which all my baggage, two servants and five Malays had found room) into two small open canoes.

The bed of the river Tamileng is, it must be allowed, in many places rather narrow, and forms numerous rapids (Jeram); whilst in others, owing to the silting of the sand, the water is very shallow. Following the course of the river Tamileng, we passed the sixth rapid, and I reckoned that at this spot we were 250 feet above the level of the sea.

Near the sixth rapid, at the kampong of Pengulu Gendong, I noticed at some distance a remarkable mountain, which was pointed out to me as Gunong Tahan. I believe that from here the mountain could be reached in 2 or 3 days. The bank of the river Tamileng appeared to be tolerably well-peopled, mostly by Malays, but I also remarked several Chinamen among them.

The unexpected visit of an "orang puteh," never seen here before, filled the people with such misgivings that they stood quite dumb, and to all questions that were put only answered "tra tau" "baru datang" or "bulum tau." It was often difficult not to take people, who became thus suddenly dumb, for regular "mikro kephalen." After I had followed the Tamileng up its course for 22 hours, I came to the