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50

And at length one day it happened,

Very early in the morning,

On his hook a fish was hanging,

And a salmon-trout was captured.

In the boat he drew it quickly,

And upon the planks he cast it.

Then he scanned the fish, and turned it,

And he spoke the words which follow:

“’Tis a fish, among the fishes,

For I never saw its equal,

Smoother is it than a powan,

Than a salmon-trout more yellow,

Greyer than a pike I deem it,

For a female fish too finless,

For a male ’tis far too scaleless;

Has no tresses, like a maiden,

Nor, like water-nymphs, ’tis belted;

Nor is earless like a pigeon;

It resembles most a salmon,

Or a perch from deepest water.”

In his waistband Väinämöinen

Bore a case-knife, silver-hafted,

And he drew the knife of sharpness,

Drew the case-knife, silver-hafted,

And prepared to slit the salmon,

And to cut the fish to pieces,

Thought to eat it for his breakfast,

Or a snack to make his luncheon,

To provide him with a dinner,

And a plenteous supper likewise.

As he would have slit the salmon,

And would cut the fish to pieces,

Sprang the salmon in the water,

For the beauteous fish jumped sideways

From the planking of the red boat,

From the boat of Väinämöinen.

Thereupon her head she lifted,

Raised her shoulders from the water,

On the fifth wave’s watery hillock,

From the sixth high wave emerging,

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 and its geysers, St. James’s Mag., 1862, 384.—I. and the Icelanders, Christ Rememb., 1852, 225.—''New. Eng. Mag.'', 1831, 311.—I. and its explorers. ''Ed. Rev.'', 1876, 222—I. and its physical curiosities, ''Brit. Quart., 1861, 525.—In I. (E. J. Oswald), Good Words'', 1876, 472, 543, 632.—I. in the year 1000, Fraser, 1852, 643.—I. in the year 1100, ''Ed. Rev., 1861, 425.—To I. (Mrs. Blackburn), Good Words, 1879, 429–622.—What I saw in I., Eclectic Mag., 1862 (v. i.), 518.—Physico-geographical sketch of I., Westm.'', 1849, 264.

Icelanders, Penny M., 1833, 442, 452.

Irish monks and the Norsemen (H. H. Howorth). ''R. His. Soc. Trans., Lond.'', 1880, 281.

Jón Jónsson’s Saga: the genuine autobiography of a modern Icelander, ed. by G. R. F. Cole. Fraser, 1877, 1.

Journey into I. (S. Baring-Gould). Good Words, 1867, 87.

King of I. Colburn, 1862, 118.

Legendary Lore of I. Westm., 1866, 122.

Legends, Icelandic. ''Dub. Univ. Mag.'', 1864, 65.

Literary Societies of I. ''For. Quart.'' 1831, 41.

Literature, Icelandic. ''Nat. Quart.'', 1870, 256—1874, 61. Origin of I. hist. lit., ''Am. Eclectic'', 1841, v. i., 446, v. ii. 131.—Ancient I.L., ''Am. Church Rev.'', 1872, 274. I., L. in, Ency Brit., 9th edition, 1881.—Northern L., ''Dub. Rev. 1850, 354—1852, 112.—Eclec. Rev. 1852, 592.—Old N. L., Am. Whig. Rev.'' 1845, 250.

Lore and Scenery, Icelandic. ''Dub. Univ. Mag.'', 1863, 469.

Millenary of I. Nature, 1874, 279.

Modern I., autobiography of Jón Jónsson. Fraser, 1877, 1.

Moors of I. (D. Ker). Appleton, 1878, 38.

Mythology, Scandinavian. Westminster, 1854, 311.; Dublin Review, 1852, 112. (H. Wheaton); No. Am., 1829, 18. S. M. and the nature of its analogy. Blackwood, 1835, 25.

Northern M. ''Dub. Univ. Mag., 1838, 86; Westm., 1854, 311.—Old Norse M. Dub. Univ.'', 1872, 481, 599.

Norse. Our N. forefathers (C. Kingsley). Overland, 1874, 88. N. element in later English history. (R. E. Thompson). Penn. Mo., 1870, 241.

Northmen. (Mrs. L. M. Child.) Howitt’s Jnl., 1847, 163. N., Heathen and Christian. Blackw. 1869, 323; ''Eclec. Mag.'', 1869 (v. 2), 697, (v. 3) 54. History of the N. (W. Irving.) ''No. Am. Rev., 1832, 342; Am. Quart., 1831, 311; Westm.'', 1831, 442.

Odin, The Northern God of War. Every Saturday, 11, 79.—Wodan, the Wild Huntsman. (K. Blind). ''Gent. M.'', N.S., 25, 32.

Odinic Songs in Shetland, Discovery of. (Karl Blind.) 19th Cent., 5, 1091.

Olaf the Sinner and Olaf the Saint. Good Words, 1862, 23.

Poetry, Early Norse. ''Dub. R.,'' 1850, 78.

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Rh “You mean that you think there was no accident?”

“None in the world.”

“He was murdered?”

“Surely!”

“So I think also. These infernal Scowrers, this cursed vindictive nest of criminals”

“No, no, my good sir,” said Holmes. “There is a master hand here. It is no case of sawed-off shotguns and clumsy six-shooters. You can tell an old master by the sweep of his brush. I can tell a Moriarty when I see one. This crime is from London, not from America.”

“But for what motive?”

“Because it is done by a man who cannot afford to fail, one whose whole unique position depends upon the fact that all he does must succeed. A great brain and a huge organization have been turned to the extinction of one man. It is crushing the nut with the triphammer,—an absurd extravagance of energy,—but the nut is very effectually crushed all the same.”

“How came this man to have anything to do with it?”

“I can only say that the first word that ever came to us of the business was from one of his [319]

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Rh lieutenants. These Americans were well advised. Having an English job to do, they took into partnership, as any foreign criminal could do, this great consultant in crime. From that moment their man was doomed. At first he would content himself by using his machinery in order to find their victim. Then he would indicate how the matter might be treated. Finally, when he read in the reports of the failure of this agent, he would step in himself with a master touch. You heard me warn this man at Birlstone Manor House that the coming danger was greater than the past. Was I right?”

Barker beat his head with his clenched fist in his impotent anger. “Do you tell me that we have to sit down under this? Do you say that no one can ever get level with this king devil?”

“No, I don’t say that,” said Holmes, and his eyes seemed to be looking far into the future. “I don’t say that he can’t be beat. But you must give me time—you must give me time!”

We all sat in silence for some minutes while those fateful eyes still strained to pierce the veil.

[320]

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Page:Kalevala (Kirby 1907) v1.djvu/71

Runo V]

Then her hands in air uplifted,

And displayed her left foot also,

When the seventh wave rose, upswelling,

And upon the ninth wave’s summit.

Thereupon the fish addressed him,

And it spoke, and thus protested:

“O thou aged Väinämöinen,

Surely I have not come hither,

Like a salmon, to be slaughtered,

Or a fish, to cut to pieces,

Only to become your breakfast,

Or a snack to make your luncheon,

To provide you with a dinner,

And a plenteous supper likewise.”

Said the aged Väinämöinen,

“Wherefore didst thou then come hither?”

“Therefore ’tis that I have sought thee,

In thine arm like dove to nestle,

By thy side to sit for ever,

On thy knee, as consort sitting,

To prepare the couch to rest thee,

And to smooth thy pillow for thee,

Keep thy little room in order,

And to sweep the flooring for thee,

In thy room to light the fire,

And to fan the flames up brightly,

There large loaves of bread to bake thee,

Cakes of honey to prepare thee,

And thy jug of beer to fill thee,

And thy dinner set before thee.

“I am not a water-salmon,

Not a perch from deepest water,

But a young and lovely maiden,

Youthful Joukahainen’s sister,

Whom thou all thy life hast longed for,

Whom thou hast so long desired.

“O thou pitiful old creature,

Väinämöinen, void of wisdom,

Thou hadst not the wit to hold me,

Vellamo’s young water-maiden,

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Page:Pelman v. McDonald's Corporation (S.D.N.Y. 2003).pdf/12

 issue discussed above—tying the injury to a particular outlet—is not as damaging against the claim against McDonalds of New York. However, plaintiffs must allege that they have eaten primarily, if not wholly, at McDonalds of New York outlets. In other words, a plaintiff who has lived for merely a year in New York State—and thus eaten at outlets run by McDonalds of New York only for one year—may have a difficult time in showing causation. The absence of explicit allegations to this effect provides a further ground for dismissal of the Complaint as against McDonalds of New York.

 * C. The Outlets and McDonalds of New York Are Akin to Retailers and Distributors of McDonalds Corp.’s Products

In addition, because the outlets and McDonalds of New York are akin to retailers and distributors of a manufacturer’s products, the negligence claims cannot attach to the outlets and McDonalds of New York for the following reasons.

Under New York law, a wholesaler, retailer or distributor can be held liable in negligence for the sale of a defective product or for failure to warn only if it fails to detect a dangerous condition that it could have discovered during the course of a normal inspection while the product was in its possession. E.g., Sideris v. Simon A. Rented Servs., 254 A.D.2d 408, 409, 678 N.Y.S.2d 771, 772 (2d Dep’t 1998) (holding rental service not liable for defective condition because satisfied duty to inspect) (citing Naples v. City of New York, 34 A.D.2d 577, 578, 309 N.Y.S.2d 663, 666 (2d Dep’t 1970)); Luckern v. Lyonsdale Energy Ltd. Partnership, 281 A.D.2d 884, 887, 722 N.Y.S.2d 632, 637 (4th Dep’t 2001) (failure to warn) (citing McLaughlin v. Mine Safety Appliances Co., 11 N.Y.2d 62, 70–71, 181 N.E.2d 430, 433, 226 N.Y.S.2d 407, 413 (1962)).

It is unclear whether the defects in question—high levels of cholesterol, fat, salt and sugar—were “discoverable” upon “inspection.” Given McDonalds’ common knowledge arguments with regard to the attributes, however, it may be assumed so. In any case, however, those attributes are later found insufficient as a matter of law to establish products liability. In order to state a claim against the outlets and McDonalds of New York, the plaintiffs must allege that they were in possession of information that the McDonalds Corp. products that they sold were more dangerous than a reasonable consumer would expect. Plaintiffs have failed to make such allegations.

This lawsuit is not the typical products liability case because, as referred to above, the issue is over-consumption of products created, manufactured and advertised at a national level. A McDonalds’ Big Mac is the same at every outlet in the Bronx, New York; the same at every outlet in the State of New York; and the same at every outlet throughout the United States. Clearly what is at issue in this lawsuit is the national menu and national policy of McDonalds Corp., and the plaintiffs’ real beef is with McDonalds Corp.

As a result, the motion to remand is denied.


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Rh “I’ve thought of that, Jack. I’ve planned it all. Father has saved some money. He is weary of this place where the fear of these people darkens our lives. He is ready to go. We would fly together to Philadelphia or New York, where we would be safe from them.”

McMurdo laughed. “The lodge has a long arm. Do you think it could not stretch from here to Philadelphia or New York?”

“Well then, to the West, or to England, or to Germany, where Father came from—anywhere to get away from this Valley of Fear!”

McMurdo thought of old Brother Morris. “Sure it is the second time I have heard the valley so named,” said he. “The shadow does indeed seem to lie heavy on some of you.”

“It darkens every moment of our lives. Do you suppose that Ted Baldwin has ever forgiven us? If it were not that he fears you, what do you suppose our chances would be? If you saw the look in those dark, hungry eyes of his when they fall on me!”

“By Gar! I’d teach him better manners if I caught him at it! But see here, little girl. I can’t leave here. I can’t—take that from me once and [262]

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Rh that’s worthy of you at last. You’ll have the doing of it in your own hands.”

“Proud I am to hear it,” McMurdo answered.

“You can take two men with you—Manders and Reilly. They have been warned for service. We’ll never be right in this district until Chester Wilcox has been settled, and you’ll have the thanks of every lodge in the coal fields if you can down him.”

“I’ll do my best, anyhow. Who is he, and where shall I find him?”

McGinty took his eternal half-chewed, half-smoked cigar from the corner of his mouth, and proceeded to draw a rough diagram on a page torn from his notebook.

“He’s the chief foreman of the Iron Dike Company. He’s a hard citizen, an old Color Sergeant of the war, all scars and grizzle. We’ve had two tries at him; but had no luck, and Jim Carnaway lost his life over it. Now it’s for you to take it over. That’s the house—all alone at the Iron Dike crossroad, same as you see here on the map—without another within earshot. It’s no good by day. He’s armed and shoots quick and straight, with no questions asked. But at [274]

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Rh night—well, there he is with his wife, three children, and a hired help. You can’t pick or choose. It’s all or none. If you could get a bag of blasting powder at the front door with a slow match to it”

“What’s the man done?”

“Didn’t I tell you he shot Jim Carnaway?”

“Why did he shoot him?”

“What in thunder has that to do with you? Carnaway was about his house at night, and he shot him. That’s enough for me and you. You’ve got to set the thing right.”

“There’s these two women and the children. Do they go up too?”

“They have to—else how can we get him?”

“It seems hard on them; for they’ve done nothing.”

“What sort of fool’s talk is this? Do you back out?”

“Easy, Councilor, easy! What have I ever said or done that you should think I would be after standing back from an order of the Bodymaster of my own lodge? If it’s right or if it’s wrong, it’s for you to decide.”

“You’ll do it, then?” [275]

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Rh “Of course I will do it.”

“When?”

“Well, you had best give me a night or two that I may see the house and make my plans. Then”

“Very good,” said McGinty, shaking him by the hand. “I leave it with you. It will be a great day when you bring us the news. It’s just the last stroke that will bring them all to their knees.”

McMurdo thought long and deeply over the commission which had been so suddenly placed in his hands. The isolated house in which Chester Wilcox lived was about five miles off in an adjacent valley. That very night he started off all alone to prepare for the attempt. It was daylight before he returned from his reconnaissance. Next day he interviewed his two subordinates, Manders and Reilly, reckless youngsters who were as elated as if it were a deer-hunt.

Two nights later they met outside the town, all three armed, and one of them carrying a sack stuffed with the powder which was used in the quarries. It was two in the morning before they came to the lonely house. The night was a windy one, with broken clouds drifting swiftly across [276]

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Page:Kalevala (Kirby 1907) v1.djvu/72

52

Me, the darling child of Ahto!”

Said the aged Väinämöinen,

Head bowed down, and deeply grieving,

“Sister thou of Joukahainen,

Once again return, I pray thee.”

But she never more came near him,

Ne’er again throughout his lifetime;

For she turned away, and, diving,

Vanished from the water’s surface

Down among the rocks so varied,

In a liver-coloured crevice.

Väinämöinen, old and steadfast,

Pondered deeply, and reflected,

What to do, and what was needful.

Quick he wove a net all silken,

And he drew it straight and crossways,

Through the reach, and then across it,

Drew it through the quiet waters,

Through the depths beloved by salmon,

And through Väinölä’s deep waters,

And by Kalevala’s sharp headlands,

Through the deep, dark watery caverns,

And the wide expanse of water,

And through Joukola’s great rivers,

And across the bays of Lapland.

Other fish he caught in plenty,

All the fishes of the waters,

Only not the fish he sought for,

Which he kept in mind for ever,

Never Vellamo’s fair maiden,

Not the dearest child of Ahto.

Then the aged Väinämöinen,

Bowed his head, lamenting deeply,

With his cap adjusted sideways,

And he spoke the words which follow:

“O how grievous is my folly,

Weak am I in manly wisdom,

Once indeed was understanding,

Insight too conferred upon me,

And my heart was great within me;

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Rh ventured to arrest two members of the society,—a double outrage planned at the Vermissa lodge and carried out in cold blood upon two helpless and disarmed men. There also one may read of the shooting of Mrs. Larbey when she was nursing her husband, who had been beaten almost to death by orders of Boss McGinty. The killing of the elder Jenkins, shortly followed by that of his brother, the mutilation of James Murdoch, the blowing up of the Staphouse family, and the murder of the Stendals all followed hard upon one another in the same terrible winter.

Darkly the shadow lay upon the Valley of Fear. The spring had come with running brooks and blossoming trees. There was hope for all nature bound so long in an iron grip; but nowhere was there any hope for the men and women who lived under the yoke of the terror. Never had the cloud above them been so dark and hopeless as in the early summer of the year 1875. [279]

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Page:Völsunga Saga (1888).djvu/334

 Religious Song, Icelandic. ''Dub. Univ. Mag.'', 1871, 354.

Sagas and Scenes, Icelandic. ''Dub. Univ. Mag.'', 1863, 459.

Saga, Faroese. Blackw., 1869, 618, 701.

Saga of King Hjorward’s Death. (M. L. Woods.) Macmil., 1880, 353.

Sagas, Icelandic. (E. of Dufferin.) ''Canad. Mo.'', 1872, 550. ''Lond. Q.'', 1871, 35.

Sagas of the Kings of Norway. ''Eclec. Rev.'', 1860, 631.

Sea-kings at Home. ''Chamb. Jnl.'', 1869, 254.

Sigurd, The story of, and its Sources. (F. Hueffer.) ''Gent. M.'', N. S., 1877, 46.

Sulphur in I. ''Dub. Univ. Mag.'', 1874, 397.

Summer in I. 27. ''Chamb. J.'', 1869, 27.

Thor and the Giant Thrym. (Tr., R. B. Anderson.) 1875, 295.—Thor and the Giants. Household Words, 1857, 282.—Thor’s Hunt for his Hammer: a Norse Poem. Once a Week, 1861, 125.

Tree of Existence, Teutonic. (Karl Blind.) Fraser, 1877, 101.

Vatna Jökull, on the. (W. L. Watts.) Fraser, 1874, 693.

Viking’s Ransom. Tinsley’s, 1877, 638.—Viking’s Ship. (J. H, Stone.) Good Words, 1881. 759; ''Eclec. Engin.'', 1880, 320.—Viking’s Skin. (D. Cook.) Once a Week, 1867, 49.

Visit to I. 1857. (J. W. Bushby.) Colburn, 1858 (v.i.), 429; (v.ii.), 118, 344.

Vital Statistics of I. (P. A. Schleisner.) ''Jour. Stat. Soc. Lond.'', 1851, 1.

Walhalla. (R. H. Davis). Scribner’s, 1879, 139; Penny Magazine, 1843, 10, 489.

Weather in Iceland, Register of the. [1811–1813.] (D. Gladstone.) Annals of Philos., 1818: 96, 169, 414.

Woman among the Old Scandinavians, Rights of. (J. A. Hjaltalin.) ''Edin. Jnl. of Jurisprudence'', 1872, 505.

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T was the height of the reign of terror. McMurdo, who had already been appointed Inner Deacon, with every prospect of some day succeeding McGinty as Bodymaster, was now so necessary to the councils of his comrades that nothing was done without his help and advice. The more popular he became, however, with the Freemen, the blacker were the scowls which greeted him as he passed along the streets of Vermissa. In spite of their terror the citizens were taking heart to band themselves together against their oppressors. Rumors had reached the lodge of secret gatherings in the Herald office and of distribution of firearms among the lawabiding people. But McGinty and his men were undisturbed by such reports. They were numerous, resolute, and well armed. Their opponents were [280]

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Runo V]

Such in former times my portion.

But in days that now are passing,

In the evil days upon me,

Now my strength with age is failing,

All my understanding weakens

And my insight has departed,

All my judgment is perverted.

“She for whom long years I waited,

Whom for half my life I longed for,

Vellamo’s fair water-maiden,

Youngest daughter of the surges,

Who should be my friend for ever,

And my wife throughout my lifetime,

Came and seized the bait I offered,

In my boat sprang unresisting,

But I knew not how to hold her,

To my home I could not take her,

But she plunged amid the waters,

Diving to the depths profoundest.”

Then he wandered on a little,

And he walked, in sadness sighing,

To his home direct returning,

And he spoke the words which follow:

“Once indeed the birds were singing,

And my joyous cuckoo hailed me,

Both at morning and at evening,

Likewise, too, in midday hours.

What has stilled their lively music,

And has hushed their charming voices?

Care has stilled their lively music,

Sorrow checked their cheerful voices,

Therefore do they sing no longer,

Neither at the sun’s declining,

To rejoice me in the evening,

Nor to cheer me in the morning.

“Now no more can I consider

How to shape my course of action,

How upon the earth to sojourn,

How throughout the world to travel.

Would my mother now were living,

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Rh lifted for a moment, and there was the abyss before him.

“Does anyone else know of this?” he asked.

“I have told no one else.”

“But this man—your friend—has he any other person that he would be likely to write to?”

“Well, I dare say he knows one or two more.”

“Of the lodge?”

“It’s likely enough.”

“I was asking because it is likely that he may have given some description of this fellow Birdy Edwards—then we could get on his trail.”

“Well, it’s possible. But I should not think he knew him. He is just telling me the news that came to him by way of business. How would he know this Pinkerton man?”

McMurdo gave a violent start.

“By Gar!” he cried, “I’ve got him. What a fool I was not to know it. Lord! but we’re in luck! We will fix him before he can do any harm. See here, Morris, will you leave this thing in my hands?”

“Sure, if you will only take it off mine.”

“I’ll do that. You can stand right back and [285]

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Rh interests of the lodge. I put the case before you as it has reached me.”

“Let me say, Mr. Chairman,” said one of the older brethren, “that I have heard of Birdy Edwards, and that he has the name of being the best man in the Pinkerton service.”

“Does anyone know him by sight?” asked McGinty.

“Yes,” said McMurdo, “I do.”

There was a murmur of astonishment through the hall.

“I believe we hold him in the hollow of our hands,” he continued with an exulting smile upon his face. “If we act quickly and wisely, we can cut this thing short. If I have your confidence and your help, it is little that we have to fear.”

“What have we to fear, anyhow? What can he know of our affairs?”

“You might say so if all were as stanch as you, Councilor. But this man has all the millions of the capitalists at his back. Do you think there is no weaker brother among all our lodges that could not be bought? He will get at our secrets—maybe has got them already. There’s only one sure cure.” [292]

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Rh “That he never leaves the valley,” said Baldwin.

McMurdo nodded. “Good for you, Brother Baldwin,” he said. “You and I have had our differences, but you have said the true word tonight.”

“Where is he, then? Where shall we know him?”

“Eminent Bodymaster,” said McMurdo earnestly, “I would put it to you that this is too vital a thing for us to discuss in open lodge. God forbid that I should throw a doubt on anyone here; but if so much as a word of gossip got to the ears of this man, there would be an end of any chance of our getting him. I would ask the lodge to choose a trusty committee, Mr. Chairman,—yourself, if I might suggest it, and Brother Baldwin here, and five more. Then I can talk freely of what I know and of what I advise should be done.”

The proposition was at once adopted, and the committee chosen. Besides the chairman and Baldwin there were the vulture-faced secretary, Harraway, Tiger Cormac, the brutal young assassin, Carter, the treasurer, and the brothers [293]

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54

And my aged mother waking!

She would surely tell me truly

How to best support my trouble,

That my grief may not o’erwhelm me,

And my sorrow may not crush me,

In these weary days of evil,

In this time of deep depression.”

In her grave his mother wakened,

Answered from beneath the billows:

“Still thy mother lives and hears thee,

And thy aged mother wakens,

That she plainly may advise thee,

How to best support thy trouble,

That thy grief may not o’erwhelm thee,

And thy sorrow may not crush thee,

In these weary days of evil,

In these days of deep depression.

Seek thou out the maids of Pohja,

Where the daughters are more handsome,

And the maidens twice as lovely,

And are five or six times nimbler,

Not like lazy girls of Jouko,

Lapland’s fat and sluggish daughters.

“Thence a wife, O son, provide thee,

From the fairest maids of Pohja;

Choose a maid of fair complexion,

Lovely, too, in every feature,

One whose feet are always nimble,

Always active in her movements.”

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text: Kalevala (Kirby 1907)/Runo 5

title: Kalevala (Kirby 1907)/Runo 5


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 power to utilize it? And when we also find it similarly exerted in such sheltered places us the Avon Gorge, where the violent storms of the sea coast would not he encountered, is there not some justification in hoping that a subject, which has been the day-dream of many others as well as myself, may at no distant date receive such attention as will render it no longer a mere visionary's idea?" The address was listened to with great attention, and a hearty vote of thanks was awarded to Mr. Twigg.

BIRMINGHAM SCHOOL NATURAL HISTORY SOCIETY.— This society, under the presidency of the Rev. A. R. Vardy, MA., (Headmaster,) is in a thriving condition. The fortnightly general meetings have been held regularly throughout the year, at which papers have been read by various members, the chief of which are the following:—February 1st, "The Purple Loosestrife," by Mr. Levett; May 17th, "Coal: its Origin, Structure, and Distribution near Birmingham,” by Mr. Atkins. The Society consists of forty-five members. President, Rev. A. R. Vardy, MLA.; Vice-presidents, Rev. E. F. MacCarthy, M.A., R. Levett, Esq, M.A., Rev. J. H. Smith, M.A., J. Turner, Esq. The Botanical Section has made two excursions, the first to Hagley and thence to Barnt Green, on April 28th; the second, on May 25th, to Haywoods, near Kingswood, where the following uncommon plants were found:—Polygala depressa, Myosatis sylvatica, Convallaria majalis, Carex pendula, in addition to ninety other species. Mr. Turner is president of this section, The Entomological Section bas been doing some good work, under the presidency of Mr. Levett. Numerous rare and interesting specimens, brought by various members, have been exhibited at the Sectional Meetings. The Geological Section has also been working well, under the presidency of Mr. Atkins, having made excursions to Dudley and other places of interest in the neighbourhood, and having held Sectional Meetings regularly.

BURTON-ON-TRENT NATURAL HISTORY AND ARCHÆOLOGICAL SOCIETY.—The last excursion of the season was made on August 14th to Tamworth, Mr. W. C. Owen being leader. The church was first visited, where the Vicar, the Rev. Brooke Lambert, pointed out the objects of interest. The earliest portion of the church is of Norman date. In the tower is a double winding staircase of unique construction. The church, which contains many interesting monuments, has been lately restored. The parish register dates back to 1556. Tamworth Castle was next visited, Mr. Cooke, the present resident, kindly guiding the party. The Moat House, a fine old Elizabethan mansion, was next seen by permission of the owner, Mr. J. F. Woody. After tea, the party drove to Seckington, calling at Stafford Hall to see the interesting chapel adjoining. At Seckington is a large mound and a series of entrenchments, supposed to be an ancient British earthwork. Mr. A. Clarson, of Tamworth, described it, and told what is known of it. The excursion was greatly enjoyed.

CARADOC FIELD CLUB.—The third Field Meeting was held at Lilleshall, on Tuesday, Aug. 27th, Heavy rain in the morning prevented more than a cursory examination of the geologic features of Lilleshail Hill, an which light has been cast by the recent labours of Dr, Callaway; but, as the weather cleared, a pleasant afternoon was spent in inspecting the ruins of the Abbey and a walk through the woods, Mr. R. W. Ralph (secretary of the Severn Valley Field Club} kindly and hospitably acted as guide through the day.

DUDLEY AND MIDLAND GEOLOGICAL AND SCIENTIFIC SOCIETY AND FIELD CLUB.—The sixth Field Meeting of the year was held on Tuesday and Wednesday, September 17th and 18th, at Chester and Northwich. A goodly party assembled at Chester, and accompanied by a large number of members of the local scientific societies, proceeded to Northwich nuder the guidance of Mr. Thos. Ward. By the courtesy of the Weaver Trust, a small steamer was in waiting to enable the visitors easily to go to the hydraulic canal lift at Anderton which was explained by Mr. Wells, the engineer, and its action tried by most of


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52 Standing Army, and he was the head of that; an Army of 114 privates under command of 27 Generals and a Field Marshal. There was a proud and ancient Hereditary Nobility. There was still one other asset. This was the tabu—an agent endowed with a mysterious and stupendous power, an agent not found among the properties of any European monarch, a tool of inestimable value in the business. Liholiho was headmaster of the tabu. The tabu was the most ingenious and effective of all the inventions that has ever been devised for keeping a people's privileges satisfactorily restricted.

It required the sexes to live in separate houses. It did not allow people to eat in either house; they must eat in another place. It did not allow a man's woman-folk to enter his house. It did not allow the sexes to eat together; the men must eat first, and the women must wait on them. Then the women could eat what was left—if anything was left—and wait on themselves. I mean, if anything of a coarse or unpalatable sort was left, the women could have it. But not the good things, the fine things, the choice things, such as pork, poultry, bananas, cocoanuts, the choicer varieties of fish, and so on. By the tabu, all these were sacred to the men; the women spent their lives longing for them and wondering what they might taste like; and they died without finding out.

These rules, as you see, were quite simple and clear. It was easy to remember them; and useful. For the penalty for infringing any rule in the whole list was death. Those women easily learned to put up with shark and taro and dog for a diet when the other things were so expensive.

It was death for any one to walk upon tabu'd ground; or defile a tabu'd thing with his touch; or fail in due servility to a chief; or step upon the king's shadow. The nobles and the King and the priests were always suspending little rags here and there and yonder, to give notice to the people that the


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54 while the burned idols were still smoking. They found the nation without a religion, and they repaired the defect. They offered their own religion and it was gladly received. But it was no support to arbitrary kingship, and so the kingly power began to weaken from that day. Forty-seven years later, when I was in the islands, Kamehameha V. was trying to repair Liholiho's blunder, and not succeeding. He had set up an Established Church and made himself the head of it. But it was only a pinchbeck thing, an imitation, a bauble, an empty show. It had no power, no value for a king. It could not harry or burn or slay, it in no way resembled the admirable machine which Liholiho destroyed. It was an Established Church without an Establishment; all the people were Dissenters.

Long before that, the kingship had itself become but a name, a show. At an early day the missionaries had turned it into something very much like a republic; and here lately the business whites have turned it into something exactly like it.

In Captain Cook's time (1778), the native population of the islands was estimated at 400,000; in 1836 at something short of 200,000, in 1866 at 50,000 ; it is to-day, per census, 25,000. All intelligent people praise Kamehameha I. and Liholiho for conferring upon their people the great boon of civilization. I would do it myself, but my intelligence is out of repair, now, from over-work.

When I was in the islands nearly a generation ago, I was acquainted with a young American couple who had among their belongings an attractive little son of the age of seven—attractive but not practicably companionable with me, because he knew no English. He had played from his birth with the little Kanakas on his father's plantation, and had preferred their language and would learn no other. The family removed to America a month after I arrived in the islands, and straight-


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58 When it came it brought disappointment, of course. Cholera had broken out in the town, and we were not allowed to have any communication with the shore. Thus suddenly did my dream of twenty-nine years go to ruin. Messages came from friends, but the friends themselves I was not to have any sight of. My lecture-hall was ready, but I was not to see that, either.

Several of our passengers belonged in Honolulu, and these were sent ashore; but nobody could go ashore and return. There were people on shore who were booked to go with us to Australia, but we could not receive them; to do it would cost us a quarantine-term in Sydney. They could have escaped the day before, by ship to San Francisco; but the bars had been put up, now, and they might have to wait weeks before any ship could venture to give them a passage any whither. And there were hardships for others. An elderly lady and her son, recreation-seekers from Massachusetts, had wandered westward, further and further from home, always intending to take the return track, but always concluding to go still a little further; and now here they were at anchor before Honolulu—positively their last westward-bound indulgence—they had made up their minds to that—but where is the use in making up your mind in this world? It is usually a waste of time to do it. These two would have to stay with us as far as Australia. Then they could go on around the world, or go back the way they had come; the distance and the accommodations and outlay of time would be just the same, whichever of the two routes they might elect to take. Think of it: a projected excursion of five hundred miles gradually enlarged, without any elaborate degree of intention, to a possible twenty-four thousand. However, they were used to extentions by this time, and did not mind this new one much.

And we had with us a lawyer from Victoria, who had been


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60 We had a sunset of a very fine sort. The vast plain of the sea was marked olf in bands of sharply-contrasted colors: great stretches of dark blue, others of purple, others of polished bronze; the billowy mountains showed all sorts of dainty browns and greens, blues and purples and blacks, and the rounded velvety backs of certain of them made one want to stroke them, as one would the sleek back of a cat. The long, sloping promontory projecting into the sea at the west turned dim and leaden and spectral, then became suffused with pink—dissolved itself in a pink dream, so to speak, it seemed so airy and unreal. Presently the cloud-rack was flooded with fiery splendors, and these were copied on the surface of the sea, and it made one drunk with delight to look upon it.

From talks with certain of our passengers whose home was Honolulu, and from a sketch by Mrs. Mary H. Krout, I was able to perceive what the Honolulu of to-day is, as compared with the Honolulu of my time. In my time it was a beautiful little town, made up of snow-white wooden cottages deliciously smothered in tropical vines and flowers and trees and shrubs; and its coral roads and streets were hard and smooth, and as white as the houses. The outside aspects of the place suggested the presence of a modest and comfortable prosperity—a general prosperity—perhaps one might strengthen the term and say universal. There were no fine houses, no fine furniture. There were no decorations. Tallow candles furnished the light for the bedrooms, a whale-oil lamp furnished it for the parlor. Native matting served as carpeting. In the parlor one would find two or three lithographs on the walls—portraits as rule: Kamehameha IV., Louis Kossuth, Jenny Lind; and may be an engraving or two: Rebecca at the Well, Moses smiting the rock, Joseph's servants finding the cup in Benjamin's sack. There would be a center table, with books of a tranquil sort on it: The Whole Duty of Man, Baxter's Saints'


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62 worn for convenience in riding astride,—the universal mode adopted by Europeans and Americans, as well as by the natives.

"The comfort and luxury of such an apartment, especially at a seashore villa, can hardly be imagined. The soft breezes sweep across it, heavy with the fragrance of jasmine and gardenia, and through the swaying boughs of palm and mimosa there are glimpses of rugged mountains, their summits veiled in clouds, of purple sea with the white surf beating eternally against the reefs,— whiter still in the yellow sunlight or the magical moonlight of the tropics."

There: rugs, ices, pictures, lanais, worldly books, sinful bric-a-brac fetched from everywhere. And the ladies riding astride. These are changes, indeed. In my time the native women rode astride, but the white ones lacked the courage to adopt their wise custom. In my time ice was seldom seen in Honolulu. It sometimes came in sailing vessels from New England as ballast; and then, if there happened to be a man- of-war in port and balls and suppers raging by consequence, the ballast was worth six hundred dollars a ton, as is evidenced by reputable tradition. But the ice-machine has traveled all over the world, now, and brought ice within everybody's reach. In Lapland and Spitzbergen no one uses native ice in our day, except the bears and the walruses.

The bicycle is not mentioned. It was not necessary. We know that it is there, without inquiring. It is everywhere. But for it, people could never have had summer homes on the summit of Mont Blanc; before its day, property up there had but a nominal value. The ladies of the Hawaiian capital learned too late the right way to occupy a horse—too late to get much benefit from it. The riding-horse is retiring from business everywhere in the world. In Honolulu a few years from now he will be only a tradition.

We all know about Father Damien, the French priest who voluntarily forsook the world and went to the leper island of Molokai to labor among its population of sorrowful exiles who wait there, in slow-consuming misery, for death


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64 "Imagine it! The case of the babies is hard, but its bitterness is a trifle—less than a trifle—less than nothing—compared to what the mother must suffer; and suffer minute by minute, hour by hour, day by day, month by month, year by year, without respite, relief, or any abatement of her pain till she dies.

"One woman, Luka Kaaukau, has been living with her leper husband in the settlement for twelve years. The man has scarcely a joint left, his limbs are only distorted ulcerated stumps, for four years his wife has put every particle of food into his mouth. He wanted his wife to abandon his wretched carcass long ago, as she herself was sound and well, but Luka said that she was content to remain and wait on the man she loved till the spirit should be freed from its burden.

"I myself have known hard cases enough:—of a girl, apparently in full health, decorating the church with me at Easter, who before Christmas is taken away as a confirmed leper; of a mother hiding her child in the mountains for years so that not even her dearest friends knew that she had a child alive, that he might not be taken away; of a respectable white man taken away from his wife and family, and compelled to become a dweller in the Leper Settlement, where he is counted dead, even by the insurance companies."

And one great pity of it all is, that these poor sufferers are innocent. The leprosy does not come of sins which they committed, but of sins committed by their ancestors, who escaped the curse of leprosy!

Mr. Gowan has made record of a certain very striking circumstance. Would you expect to find in that awful Leper Settlement a custom worthy to be transplanted to your own country? They have one such, and it is inexpressibly touching and beautiful. When death sets open the prison-door of life there, the band salutes the freed soul with a burst of glad music!


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 :'''II. McDonalds’ Motion to Dismiss'''

 * A. Standard of Review

In reviewing a motion to dismiss under Rule 12(b)(6), courts must “accept as true the factual allegations of the complaint, and draw all inferences in favor of the pleader.” Mills v. Polar Molecular Corp., 12 F.3d 1170, 1174 (2d Cir.1993) (citing IUE AFL-CIO Pension Fund v. Herrmann, 9 F.3d 1049, 1052 (2d Cir.1993)). However, “legal conclusions, deductions, or opinions couched as factual allegations are not given a presumption of truthfulness.” L’Europeenne de Banque v. La Republica de Venezuela, 700 F.Supp. 114, 122 (S.D.N.Y.1988). The complaint may only be dismissed when “it appears beyond doubt that the plaintiff can prove no set of facts in support of his claim which would entitledentitle [sic] him to relief.” Conley v. Gibson, 355 U.S. 41, 45–46, 78 S.Ct. 99, 2 L.Ed.2d 80 (1957). See also Bernheim v. Litt, 79 F.3d 318, 321 (2d Cir.1996); Allen v. West-Point–Pepperell, Inc., 945 F.2d 40, 44 (2d Cir.1991).

Review must be limited to the complaint and documents attached or incorporated by reference thereto. Kramer v. Time Warner, Inc., 937 F.2d 767, 773 (2d Cir.1991). In this context, the Second Circuit has held that a complaint is deemed to “include … documents that the plaintiffs either possessed or knew about and upon which they relied in bringing the suit.” Rothman v. Gregor, 220 F.3d 81, 88 (2d Cir.2000).

Plaintiffs, however, in their opposition papers rely on facts outside the pleading. The Court of Appeals has made clear that where a District Court is provided with materials outside the pleadings in the context of a 12(b)(6) motion to dismiss, it has two options: the court may exclude the additional materials and decide the motion on the complaint alone or convert the motion to one from summary judgment under Fed.R.Civ.P. 56 and afford all parties the opportunity to present supporting material. Fed.R.Civ.P. 12(b). Kopec v. Coughlin, 922 F.2d 152, 154 (2d Cir.1991) (quoting Fonte v. Board of Managers of Continental Towers Condominium, 848 F.2d 24, 25 (2d Cir.1988)). The Court has not converted this motion to one for summary judgment and thus will not consider statements outside the pleadings in reaching its holding.

 * B. Counts I and II: Plaintiffs Fail to State a Claim Pursuant to N.Y. Gen. Bus. Law §§ 349 and 350

Counts I and II allege that McDonalds violated the New York Consumer Protection Act, N.Y. Gen. Bus. Law §§ 349 and 350, by (1) deceptively advertising their food as not unhealthful and failing to provide consumers with nutritional information (Count I) and (2) inducing minors to eat at McDonalds through deceptive marketing ploys (Count II).

Section 349 of New York General Business Law makes unlawful “[d]eceptive acts or practices in the conduct of any business, trade or commerce or in the furnishing of any service in this state.” N.Y. Gen. Bus. Law § 349(a). Section


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 Pope became a friend of all the Opposition clique, which was undermining the power of the great minister. In his last letters to Swift, Pope speaks of the new circle of promising patriots who were rising round him, and from whom he entertained hopes of the regeneration of this corrupt country. Sentiments of this kind were the staple talk of the circles in which he moved; and all the young men of promise believed, or persuaded themselves to fancy, that a political millennium would follow the downfall of Walpole. Pope, susceptible as always to the influences of his social surroundings, took in all this, and delighted in figuring himself as the prophet of the new era and the denouncer of wickedness in high places. He sees "old England's genius" dragged in the dust, hears the black trumpet of vice proclaiming that "not to be corrupted is the shame," and declares that he will draw the last pen for freedom, and use his "sacred weapon" in truth's defence.

To imagine Pope at his best, we must place ourselves in Twickenham on some fine day, when the long disease has relaxed its grasp for a moment; when he has taken a turn through his garden, and comforted his poor frame with potted lampreys and a glass or two from his frugal pint. Suppose two or three friends to be sitting with him, the stately Bolingbroke or the mercurial Bathurst, with one of the patriotic hopes of mankind, Marchmont or Lyttelton, to stimulate his ardour, and the amiable Spence, or Mrs. Patty Blount to listen reverentially to his morality. Let the conversation kindle into vivacity, and host and guests fall into a friendly rivalry, whetting each other's wits by lively repartee, and airing the little fragments of worldly wisdom which pass muster for profound observation at Court; for a time they talk platitudes, though striking

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70 with skill; this makes it a chancy game, and the element of luck comes largely in.

We had a couple of grand tournaments, to determine who should be "Champion of the Pacific"; they included among the participants nearly all the passengers, of both sexes, and the officers of the ship, and they afforded many days of stupendous interest and excitement, and murderous exercise—for horse-billiards is a physically violent game.

The figures in the following record of some of the closing games in the first tournament will show, better than any description, how very chancy the game is. The losers here represented had all been winners in the previous games of the series, some of them by fine majorities:

And so on; until but three couples of winners were left. Then I beat my man, young Smith beat his man, and Thomas beat his. This reduced the combatants to three. Smith and I took the deck, and I led off. . At the close of the first inning I was 10 worse than nothing and Smith had scored 7. The luck continued against me. When I was 57, Smith was 97—within 3 of out. The luck changed then. He picked up a 10-off or so, and couldn't recover. I beat him.

The next game would end tournament No. 1.

Mr. Thomas and I were the contestants. He won the lead and went to the bat—so to speak. And there he stood, with the crotch of his cue resting against his disk while the ship rose slowly up, sank slowly down, rose again, sank again. She never seemed to rise to suit him exactly. She started up once more; and when she was nearly ready for the turn, he let drive and landed his disk just within the left-hand end of the


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76 Along about the moment that we were crossing the Great Meridian a child was born in the steerage, and now there is no way to tell which day it was born on. The nurse thinks it was Sunday, the surgeon thinks it was Tuesday. The child will never know its own birthday. It will always be choosing first one and then the other, and will never be able to make up its mind permanently. This will breed vacillation and uncertainty in its opinions about religion, and politics, and business, and sweethearts, and everything, and will undermine its principles, and rot them away, and make the poor thing characterless, and its success in life impossible. Every one in the ship says so. And this is not all—in fact, not the worst. For there is an enormously rich brewer in the ship who said as much as ten days ago, that if the child was born on his birthday he would give it ten thousand dollars to start its little life with. His birthday was Monday, the 9th of September.

If the ships all moved in the one direction—westward, I mean—the world would suffer a prodigious loss in the matter of valuable time, through the dumping overboard on the Great Meridian of such multitudes of days by ships' crews and passengers. But fortunately the ships do not all sail west, half of them sail east. So there is no real loss. These latter pick up all the discarded days and add them to the world's stock again; and about as good as new, too; for of course the salt water preserves them.


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78 thought—at least a thought that offered a chance. While the storm was still raging, I made up a Scotch couplet, and then spoke up and said:—

"Very well, don't say any more. I confess defeat. I thought I knew, but I see my mistake. I was deceived by one of your Scotch poets."

"A Scotch poet! O come! Name him."

"Robert Burns."

It is wonderful the power of that name. These men looked doubtful—but paralyzed, all the same. They were quite silent for a moment; then one of them said—with the reverence in his voice which is always present in a Scotchman's tone when he utters the name:

"Does Robbie Burns say—what does he say?"

"This is what he says :

It ended the discussion. There was no man there profane enough, disloyal enough, to say any word against a thing which Robert Burns had settled. I shall always honor that great name for the salvation it brought me in this time of my sore need.

It is my belief that nearly any invented quotation, played with confidence, stands a good chance to deceive. There are people who think that honesty is always the best policy. This is a superstition; there are times when the appearance of it is worth six of it.

We are moving steadily southward—getting further and further down under the projecting paunch of the globe. Yesterday evening we saw the Big Dipper and the north star sink below the horizon and disappear from our world. No, not "we," but they. They saw it—somebody saw it—and told me about it. But it is no matter, I was not caring for those


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82 tance. The recruiter-boat had run into a small nook on the rocky coast, under a high bank, above which stood a solitary hut backed by dense forest. The government agent and mate in the second boat lay about 400 yards to the westward.

"Suddenly we heard the sound of firing, followed by yells from the natives on shore, and then we saw the recruiter-boat push out with a seemingly diminished crew. The mate's boat pulled quickly up, took her in tow, and presently brought her alongside, all her own crew being more or less hurt. It seems the natives had called them into the place on pretence of friendship. A crowd gathered about the stern of the boat, and several fellows even got into her. All of a sudden our men were attacked with clubs and tomahawks. The recruiter escaped the first blows aimed at him, making play with his fists until he had an opportunity to draw his revolver. 'Tom Sayers,' a Maré man, received a tomahawk blow on the head which laid the scalp open but did not penetrate his skull, fortunately. 'Bobby Towns,' another Maré boatman, had both his thumbs cut in warding off blows, one of them being so nearly severed from the hand that the doctors had to finish the operation. Lihu, a Lifu boy, the recruiter's special attendant, was cut and pricked in various places, but nowhere seriously. Jack, an unlucky Tanna recruit, who had been engaged to act as boatman, received an arrow through his forearm, the head of which—a piece of bone seven or eight inches long—was still in the limb, protruding from both sides, when the boats returned. The recruiter himself would have got off scot-free had not an arrow pinned one of his fingers to the loom of the steering-oar just as they were getting off. The fight had been short but sharp. The enemy lost two men, both shot dead."

The truth is, Captain Wawn furnishes such a crowd of instances of fatal encounters between natives and French and English recruiting-crews (for the French are in the business for the plantations of New Caledonia), that one is almost persuaded that recruiting is not thoroughly popular among the islanders; else why this bristling string of attacks and blood-curdling slaughter? The captain lays it all to "Exeter Hall influence." But for the meddling philanthropists, the native fathers and mothers would be fond of seeing their children carted into exile and now and then the grave, instead of weeping about it and trying to kill the kind recruiters.


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84 and clothing; total payment for the use of a man three years, £53; or, including diet, £60. Altogether, a hundred dollars a year. One can understand why the recruiter is fond of the business; the recruit costs him a few cheap presents (given to the recruit's relatives, not to the recruit himself), and the recruit is worth £20

to the recruiter when delivered in Queensland. All this is clear enough; but the thing that is not clear is, what there is about it all to persuade the recruit. He is young and brisk; life at home in his beautiful island is one lazy, long holiday to him; or if he wants to work he can turn out a couple of bags of copra per week and sell it for four or five shillings a bag. In Queensland he must get up at dawn and work from eight to twelve hours a day in the canefields—in a much hotter climate than he is used to—and get less than four shillings a week for it.

I cannot understand his willingness to go to Queensland. It is a deep puzzle to me. Here is the explanation, from the planter's point of view; at least I gather from the missionary's pamphlet that it is the planter's:

"When he comes from his home he is a savage, pure and simple. He feels no shame at his nakedness and want of adornment. When he returns home he does so well dressed, sporting a Waterbury watch, collars, cuffs,


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] The shelled corn is ground on the metate and baked in large cakes in the ashes. Corn is also boiled with ashes, dried, and the hulls washed off, then thoroughly dried and parched with coals or over the fire. It is then made into a gruel, but is not so highly regarded as the wheat pinole.

Iʼsavĭk. The thorns of this cactus are removed as soon as gathered, and it is eaten without further preparation.

Iʼtany, Atriplex sp. The heads of this saltbush are pounded up in the mortar and screened to separate the hulls. The seeds are washed, spread to dry, parched in a piece of olla, and ground on the metate. They are then ready to be eaten as pinole, or dry, in the latter case a pinch of the meal being taken alternately with a sip of water.

Kaʼĭfsa, Cicer arietinum Linn. The chick-pea is raised in small quantities and is also purchased from the traders. This is the garabanzo of Mexico. The name chicos is sometimes applied to this pea as it is to anything small, especially to small or, rather, sweet corn that is just old enough for roasting.

Kâf, Chenopodium murale. The seed is gathered early in the summer and prepared by parching and grinding, after which it may be eaten as pinole or combined with other meal.

Kâʼmeûvat. After the August rains this seed is gathered, parched over coals in the parching pan, ground on the metete, and eaten as pinole.

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86 with me because I would not buy his trousers, which he declared were just my fit. He sold them afterwards to one of my Aniwan teachers for 9d. worth of tobacco—a pair of trousers that probably cost him 8s. or 10s. in Queensland. A coat or shirt is handy for cold weather. The white handkerchiefs, the 'senet' (perfumery), the umbrella, and perhaps the hat, are kept. The boots have to take their chance, if they do not happen to fit the copra trader. 'Senet' on the hair, streaks of paint on the face, a dirty white handkerchief round the neck, strips of turtle shell in the ears, a belt, a sheath and knife, and an umbrella constitute the rig of returned Kanaka at home the day after landing."

A hat, an umbrella, a belt, a neckerchief. Otherwise stark naked. All in a day the hard-earned "civilization" has melted away to this. And even these perishable things must presently go. Indeed, there is but a single detail of his civilization that can be depended on to stay by him: according to the missionary, he has learned to swear. This is art, and art is long, as the poet says.

In all countries the laws throw light upon the past. The Queensland law for the regulation of the Labor Traffic is a confession. It is a confession that the evils charged by the missionaries upon the traffic had existed in the past, and that they still existed when the law was made. The missionaries make a further charge: that the law is evaded by the recruiters, and that the Government Agent sometimes helps them to do it. Regulation 31 reveals two things : that sometimes a young fool of a recruit gets his senses back, after being persuaded to sign away his liberty for three years, and dearly wants to get out of the engagement and stay at home with his own people; and that threats, intimidation, and force are used to keep him on board the recruiting-ship, and to hold him to his contract. Regulation 31 forbids these coercions. The law requires that he shall be allowed to go free; and another clause of it requires the recruiter to set him ashore—per boat, because of the prevalence of sharks. Testimony from Rev. Mr. Gray:

"There are 'wrinkles' for taking the penitent Kanaka. My first ex-


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88 "For a long time we were allowed to apprehend and detain all deserters who had signed the agreement on board ship, but the 'cast-iron' regulations of the Act of 1884 put a stop to that, allowing the Kanaka to sign the agreement for three years' service, travel about in the ship in receipt of the regular rations, cadge all he could, and leave when he thought fit, so long as he did not extend his pleasure trip to Queensland."

Rev. Mr. Gray calls this same restrictive cast-iron law a "farce." "There is as much cruelty and injustice done to natives by acts that are legal as by deeds unlawful. The regulations that exist are unjust and inadequate—unjust and inadequate they must ever be." He furnishes his reasons for his position, but they are too long for reproduction here.

However, if the most a Kanaka advantages himself by a three-years course in civilization in Queensland, is a necklace and an umbrella and a showy imperfection in the art of swearing, it must be that all the profit of the traffic goes to the white man. This could be twisted into a plausible argument that the traffic ought to be squarely abolished.

However, there is reason for hope that that can be left alone to achieve itself. It is claimed that the traffic will depopulate its sources of supply within the next twenty or thirty years. Queensland is a very healthy place for white people—death-rate 12 in 1,000 of the population—but the Kanaka death-rate is away above that. The vital statistics for 1893 place it at 52; for 1894 (Mackay district), 68. The first six months of the Kanaka's exile are peculiarly perilous for him because of the rigors of the new climate. The death-rate among the new men has reached as high as 180 in the 1,000. In the Kanaka's native home his death-rate is 12 in time of peace, and 15 in time of war. Thus exile to Queensland—with the opportunity to acquire civilization, an umbrella, and a pretty poor quality of profanity—is twelve times as deadly for him as war. Common Christian charity, common humanity, does seem to require, not only that these people be returned to their homes, but that


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90 "1. It generally demoralizes and always impoverishes the Kanaka, deprives him of his citizenship, and depopulates the islands fitted to his home.

"2. It is felt to lower the dignity of the white agricultural laborer in Queensland, and beyond a doubt it lowers his wages there.

" 3. The whole system is fraught with danger to Australia and the islands on the score of health.

"4. On social and political grounds the continuance of the Queensland Kanaka Labor Traffic must be a barrier to the true federation of the Australian colonies.

"5. The Regulations under which the Traffic exists in Queensland are inadequate to prevent abuses, and in the nature of things they must remain so.

" 6. The whole system is contrary to the spirit and doctrine of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. The Gospel requires us to help the weak, but the Kanaka is fleeced and trodden down.

"7. The bed-rock of this Traffic is that the life and liberty of a black man are of less value than those of a white man. And a Traffic that has grown out of 'slave-hunting' will certainly remain to the end not unlike its origin."


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92 bases; back of these a stretch of level land clothed in tropic vegetation; back of that, rugged and picturesque mountains. A detail of the immediate foreground: a mouldering ship perched high up on a reef-bench. This completes the composition, and makes the picture artistically perfect.

In the afternoon we sighted Suva, the capital of the group, and threaded our way into the secluded little harbor—a placid basin of brilliant blue and green water tucked snugly in among the sheltering hills. A few ships rode at anchor in it—one of them a sailing vessel flying the American flag;

SUVA.

and they said she came from Duluth! There's a journey! Duluth is several thousand miles from the sea, and yet she is entitled to the proud name of Mistress of the Commercial Marine of the United States of America. There is only one free, independent, unsubsidized American ship sailing the foreign seas, and Duluth owns it. All by itself that ship is the American fleet. All by itself it causes the American name and power to be respected in the far regions of the globe. All by itself it certifies to the world that the most populous civilized nation in the earth has a just pride in her stupendous


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94 land, and have that luxury of luxuries to sea-voyagers—a land-dinner. And there we saw more natives: Wrinkled old women, with their flat mammals flung over their shoulders, or hanging down in front like the cold-weather drip from the molasses-faucet; plump and smily young girls, blithe and content, easy and graceful, a pleasure to look at; young matrons, tall, straight, comely, nobly built, sweeping by with chin up, and a gait incomparable for unconscious stateliness and dignity; majestic young men—athletes for build and muscle—clothed in a loose arrangement of dazzling white, with bronze breast and bronze legs naked, and the head a cannon-swab of solid hair combed straight out from the skull and dyed a rich brick-red. Only sixty years ago they were sunk in darkness; now they have the bicycle.

We strolled about the streets of the white folks' little town, and around over the hills by paths and roads among European dwellings and gardens and plantations, and past clumps of hibiscus that made a body blink, the great blossoms were so intensely red; and by and by we stopped to ask an elderly English


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96 surroundings lie drowsing in that dreamy repose and serenity which are the charm of life in the Pacific Islands.

One of the new friends who went out there with me was a large man, and I had been admiring his size all the way. I was still admiring it as he stood by the governor on the veranda, talking; then the Fijian butler stepped out there to announce tea, and dwarfed him. Maybe he did not quite dwarf him, but at any rate the contrast was quite striking. Perhaps that dark giant was a king in a condition of political suspension. I think that in the talk there on the veranda it was said that in Fiji, as in the Sandwich Islands, native kings and chiefs are of much grander size and build than the commoners. This man was clothed in flowing white vestments, and they were just the thing for him; they comported well with his great stature and his kingly port and dignity. European clothes would have degraded him and made him commonplace. I know that, because they do that with everybody that wears them.

It was said that the old-time devotion to chiefs and reverence for their persons still survive in the native commoner, and in great force. The educated young gentleman who is chief of the tribe that live in the region about the capital dresses in the fashion of high-class European gentlemen, but even his clothes cannot damn him in the reverence of his people. Their pride in his lofty rank and ancient lineage lives on, in spite of his lost authority and the evil magic of his tailor. He has no need to defile himself with work, or trouble his heart with the sordid cares of life; the tribe will see to it that he shall not want, and that he shall hold up his head and live like a gentleman. I had a glimpse of him down in the town. Perhaps he is a descendant of the last king—the king with the difficult name whose memory is preserved by a notable monument of cut-stone which one sees in the enclosure in the middle of the town.


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98 his scepter. But nothing came of this chance. They lived worthless lives of sin and luxury, and died without honor—in most cases by violence. Only one of them had any ambition; he was an Irishman named Connor. He tried to raise a family of fifty children, and scored forty-eight. He died lamenting his failure. It was a foolish sort of avarice. Many a father would have been rich enough with forty.

It is a fine race, the Fijians, with brains in their heads, and an inquiring, turn of mind. It appears that their savage ancestors had a doctrine of immortality in their scheme of religion—with limitations. That is to say, their dead friend would go to a happy hereafter if he could be accumulated, but not otherwise. They drew the line; they thought that the missionary's doctrine was too sweeping, too comprehensive. They called his attention to certain facts. For instance, many of their friends had been devoured by sharks; the sharks, in their turn, were caught and eaten by other men; later, these men were captured in war, and eaten by the enemy. The original persons had entered into the composition of the sharks; next, they and the sharks had become part of the flesh and blood and bone of the cannibals. How, then, could the particles of the original men be searched out from the final conglomerate and put together again? The inquirers were full of doubts, and considered that the missionary had not examined the matter with the gravity and attention which so serious a thing deserved.

The missionary taught these exacting savages many valuable things, and got from them one—a very dainty and poetical idea: Those wild and ignorant poor children of Nature believed that the flowers, after they perish, rise on the winds and float away to the fair fields of heaven, and flourish there forever in immortal beauty!


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100 who cannot name their lost home, wandering Children of Nowhere.

Indeed, the Island Wilderness is the very home of romance and dreams and mystery. The loneliness, the solemnity, the beauty, and the deep repose of this wilderness have a charm which is all their own for the bruised spirit of men who have fought and failed in the struggle for life in the great world; and for men who have been hunted out of the great world for crime; and for other men who love an easy and indolent existence; and for others who love a roving free life, and stir and change and adventure; and for yet others who love an easy and comfortable career of trading and money-getting, mixed with plenty of loose matrimony by purchase, divorce without trial or expense, and limitless spreeing thrown in to make life ideally perfect.

We sailed again, refreshed.

The most cultivated person in the ship was a young English, man whose home was in New Zealand. He was a naturalist. His learning in his specialty was deep and thorough, his interest in his subject amounted to a passion, he had an easy gift of speech; and so, when he talked about animals it was a pleasure to listen to him. And profitable, too, though he was sometimes difficult to understand because now and then he used scientific technicalities which were above the reach of some of us. They were pretty sure to be above my reach, but as he was quite willing to explain them I always made it a point to get him to do it. I had a fair knowledge of his subject—layman's knowledge—to begin with, but it was his teachings which crystalized it into scientific form and clarity—in a word, gave it value.

His special interest was the fauna of Australasia, and his knowledge of the matter was as exhaustive as it was accurate. I already knew a good deal about the rabbits in Australasia


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102 and best friend of the weary and thirsty sundowner; for he knows that wherever the bell bird is, there is water; and he goes somewhere else. The naturalist said that the oddest bird in Australasia was the Laughing Jackass, and the biggest the now extinct Great Moa.

The Moa stood thirteen feet high, and could step over an ordinary man's head or kick his hat off; and his head, too, for that matter. He said it was wingless, but a swift runner. The natives used to ride it. It could make forty miles an hour, and keep it up for four hundred miles and come out reasonably fresh. It was still in existence when the railway was introduced into New Zealand; still in existence, and carrying the mails. The railroad began with the same schedule it has now: two expresses a week—time, twenty miles an hour. The company exterminated the moa to get the mails.

Speaking of the indigenous coneys and bactrian camels, the naturalist said that the coniferous and bacteriological output of Australasia was remarkable for its many and curious departures from the accepted laws governing these species of tubercles, but that in his opinion Nature's fondness for dabbling in the erratic was most notably exhibited in that curious combination of bird, fish, amphibian, burrower, crawler, quadruped, and Christian called the Ornithorhyncus—grotesquest of animals, king of the animalculæ of the world for versatility of character and make-up. Said he—

"You can call it anything you want to, and be right. It is a fish, for it lives in the river half the time; it is a land animal, for it resides on the land half the time; it is an amphibian, since it likes both and does not know which it prefers; it is a hybernian, for when times are dull and nothing much going on it buries itself under the mud at the bottom of a puddle and hybernates there a couple of weeks at a time; it is a kind of duck, for it has a duck-bill and four webbed paddles; it is a fish and quadruped together, for in the water it swims with the paddles and on shore it paws itself across country with them; it is a kind of seal, for it has a seal's fur; it is carnivorous, herbivorous, insectivorous, and vermifuginous, for it eats fish and grass and butterflies, and in the season digs worms out of the mud and devours them; it is clearly


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106 beast of ordinary construction could use and live. But this combination was nuts for the Ornithorhyncus, if I may use a term like that without offense. Its river home had always been salted by the flood tides of the sea. On the face of the Noachian deluge innumerable forest trees were floating. Upon these the Ornithorhyncus voyaged in peace; voyaged from clime to clime, from hemisphere to hemisphere, in contentment and comfort, in virile interest in the constant change of scene, in humble thankfulness for its privileges, in ever-increasing enthusiasm in the development of the great theory upon whose validity it had staked its life, its fortunes, and its sacred honor, if I may use such expressions without impropriety in connection with an episode of this nature.

"It lived the tranquil and luxurious life of a creature of independent means. Of things actually necessary to its existence and its happiness not a detail was wanting. "When it wished to walk, it scrambled along the tree-trunk; it mused in the shade of the leaves by day, it slept in their shelter by night; when it wanted the refreshment of a swim, it had it; it ate leaves when it wanted a vegetable diet, it dug under the bark for worms and grubs; when it wanted fish it caught them, when it wanted eggs it laid them. If the grubs gave out in one tree it swam to another; and as for fish, the very opulence of the supply was an embarrassment. And finally, when it was thirsty it smacked its chops in gratitude over a blend that would have slain a crocodile.

"When at last, after thirteen months of travel and research in all the Zones it went aground on a mountain-summit, it strode ashore, saying in its heart, 'Let them that come after me invent theories and dream dreams about the Survival of the Fittest if they like, but I am the first that has done it!

"This wonderful creature dates back like the kangaroo and many other Australian hydrocephalous invertebrates, to an age long anterior to the advent of man upon the earth; they date back, indeed, to a time when a causeway hundreds of miles wide, and thousands of miles long, joined Australia to Africa, and the animals of the two countries were alike, and all belonged to that remote geological epoch known to science as the Old Red Grindstone Post-Pleosaurian. Later the causeway sank under the sea; subterranean convulsions lifted the African continent a thousand feet higher than it was before, but Australia kept her old level In Africa's new climate the animals necessarily began to develop and shade off into new forms and families and species, but the animals of Australia as necessarily remained stationary, and have so remained until this day. In the course of some millions of years the African Ornithorhyncus developed and developed and developed, and sluffed off detail after detail of its make-up until at last the creature became wholly disintegrated and scattered. Whenever you see a bird or a beast or a seal or an otter in Africa you know that he is merely a sorry surviving fragment of that sublime original of whom I have been speaking—that creature which was everything in general and nothing in particular—the opulently endowed e pluribus unum of the animal world.

"Such is the history of the most hoary, the most ancient, the most venerable creature that exists in the earth today—Ornithorhyncus Platypus Extraordinariensis—whom God preserve!"


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108 and mastery and melody of the Sweet Singer all are there. Compare this Invocation with "Frank Dutton"—particularly stanzas first and seventeenth—and I think the reader will feel convinced that he who wrote the one had read the other:

THE NATURALIST.


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110 of fire and energy whose equal the most of those people will not see again until after they are dead.

It was porpoises—porpoises aglow with phosphorescent light. They presently collected in a wild and magnificent jumble under the bows, and there they played for an hour, leaping and frollicking and carrying on, turning summersaults in front of the stem or across it and never getting hit, never making a miscalculation, though the stem missed them only about an inch, as a rule. They were porpoises of the ordinary length—eight or ten feet—but every twist of their bodies sent a long procession of united and glowing curves astern. That fiery jumble was an enchanting thing to look at, and we stayed out the performance; one cannot have such a show as that twice in a lifetime. The porpoise is the kitten of the sea; he never has a serious thought, he cares for nothing but fun and play. But I think I never saw him at his winsomest until that night. It was near a center of civilization, and he could have been drinking.

By and by, when we had approached to somewhere within thirty miles of Sydney Heads the great electric light that is posted on one of those lofty ramparts began to show, and in time the little spark grew to a great sun and pierced the firmament of darkness with a far-reaching sword of light.

Sydney Harbor is shut in behind a precipice that extends some miles like a wall, and exhibits no break to the ignorant stranger. It has a break in the middle, but it makes so little show that even Captain Cook sailed by it without seeing it. Near by that break is a false break which resembles it, and which used to make trouble for the mariner at night, in the early days before the place was lighted. It caused the memorable disaster to the Duncan Dunbar, one of the most pathetic tragedies in the history of that pitiless ruffian, the sea. The ship was a sailing vessel; a fine and favorite passenger packet,


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112 and gracious company was ever seen again alive. The tale is told to every stranger that passes the spot, and it will continue to be told to all that come, for generations; but it will never grow old, custom cannot stale it, the heart-break that is in it can never perish out of it.

There were two hundred persons in the ship, and but one survived the disaster. He was a sailor. A huge sea flung him up the face of the precipice and stretched him on a narrow shelf of rock midway between the top and the bottom, and there he lay all night. At any other time he would have lain there for the rest of his life, without chance of discovery; but the next morning the ghastly news swept through Sydney that the Duncan Dunbar had gone down in sight of home, and straightway the walls of the Heads were black with mourners; and one of these, stretching himself out over the precipice to spy out what might be seen below, discovered this miraculously preserved relic of the wreck. Ropes were brought and the nearly impossible feat of rescuing the man was accomplished. He was a person with a practical turn of mind, and he hired a hall in Sydney and exhibited himself at sixpence a head till he exhausted the output of the gold fields for that year.

We entered and cast anchor, and in the morning went oh-ing and ah-ing in admiration up through the crooks and turns of the spacious and beautiful harbor—a harbor which is the darling of Sydney and the wonder of the world. It is not surprising that the people are proud of it, nor that they put their enthusiasm into eloquent words. A returning citizen asked me what I thought of it, and 1 testified with a cordiality which I judged would be up to the market rate. I said it was beautiful—superbly beautiful. Then by a natural impulse I gave God the praise. The citizen did not seem altogether satisfied. He said:

"It is beautiful, of course it's beautiful—the Harbor;


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114 them with picnic parties on board. It is said by trustworthy people that if you explore them all you will find that you have covered 700 miles of water passage. But there are liars everywhere this year, and they will double that when their works are in good going order.

October was close at hand, spring was come. It was really spring—everybody said so; but you could have sold it for summer in Canada, and nobody would have suspected. It was the very weather that makes our home summers the perfection of climatic luxury; I mean, when you are out in the wood or by the sea. But these people said it was cool, now—a person ought to see Sydney in the summer time if he wanted to know what warm weather is; and he ought to go north ten or fifteen hundred miles if he wanted to know what hot weather is. They said that away up there toward the equator the hens laid fried eggs. Sydney is the place to go to get information about other people's climates. It seems to me that the occupation of Unbiased Traveler Seeking Information is the pleasantest and most irresponsible trade there is. The traveler can always find out anything he wants to, merely by asking. He can get at all the facts, and more. Everybody helps him, nobody hinders him. Anybody who has an old fact in stock that is no longer negotiable in the domestic market will let him have it at his own price. An accumulation of such goods is easily and quickly made. They cost almost nothing and they bring par in the foreign market. Travelers who come to America always freight up with the same old nursery tales that their predecessors selected, and they carry them back and always work them off without any trouble in the home market.

If the climates of the world were determined by parallels of latitude, then we could know a place's climate by its position on the map; and so we should know that the climate of Sydney was the counterpart of the climate of Columbia, S. C.,


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116 But Nature is always stingy of perfect climates; stingier in the case of Australia than usual. Apparently this vast continent has a really good climate nowhere but around the edges.

If we look at a map of the world we are surprised to see how big Australia is. It is about two-thirds as large as the United States was before we added Alaska.

But where as one finds a sufficiently good climate and fertile land almost everywhere in the United States, it seems settled that inside of the Australian border-belt one finds many deserts and in spots a climate which nothing can stand except a few of the hardier kinds of rocks. In effect, Australia is as yet unoccupied. If you take a map of the United States and

leave the Atlantic sea-board States in their places; also the fringe of Southern States from Florida west to the Mouth of the Mississippi; also a narrow, inhabited streak up the Mississippi half-way to its head waters; also a narrow, inhabited border along the Pacific coast: then take a brushful of paint and obliterate the whole remaining mighty stretch of country that lies between the Atlantic States and the Pacific-coast strip, your map will look like the latest map of Australia.

This stupendous blank is hot, not to say torrid; a part of it is fertile, the rest is desert; it is not liberally watered; it has no towns. One has only to cross the mountains of New South Wales and descend into the westward-lying regions to find that he has left the choice climate behind him, and found a


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 out now and then brilliant flashes, as from the collision of polished rapiers; they diverge, perhaps, into literature, and Pope shines in discussing the secrets of the art to which his whole life has been devoted with untiring fidelity. Suddenly the mention of some noted name provokes a startling outburst of personal invective from Pope; his friends judiciously divert the current of wrath into a new channel, and he becomes for the moment a generous patriot declaiming against the growth of luxury; the mention of some sympathizing friend brings out a compliment, so exquisitely turned, as to be a permanent title of honour, conferred by genius instead of power; or the thought of his parents makes his voice tremble, and his eyes shine with pathetic softness; and you forgive the occasional affectation which you can never quite forget, or even the occasional grossness or harshness of sentiment which contrasts so strongly with the superficial polish. A genuine report of even the best conversation would be intolerably prosy and unimaginative. But imagine the very pith and essence of such talk brought to a focus, concentrated into the smallest possible space with the infinite dexterity of a thoroughly trained hand, and you have the kind of writing in which Pope is unrivalled; polished prose with occasional gleams of genuine poetry—the epistle to Arbuthnot and the epilogue to the Satires.

One point remains to be briefly noticed. The virtue on which Pope prided himself was correctness; and I have interpreted this to mean the quality which is gained by incessant labour, guided by quick feeling, and always under the strict supervision of common sense. The next literary revolution led to a depreciation of this quality. Warton (like Macaulay long afterwards) argued that in a higher sense, the Elizabethan poets were really as correct

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118 And probably a wagon. I was mistaken; I have not seen a proper dust-storm. To my mind the exterior aspects and character of Australia are fascinating things to look at and think about, they are so strange, so weird, so new, so uncommonplace, such a startling and interesting contrast to the other sections of the planet, the sections that are known to us all, familiar to us all. In the matter of particulars—a detail here, a detail there—we have had the choice climate of New South Wales' sea-coast; we have had the Australian heat as furnished by Captain Sturt; we have had the wonderful dust-storm; and we have considered the phenomenon of an almost empty hot wilderness half as big as the United States, with a narrow belt of civilization, population, and good climate around it.


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Rh second thought but for this letter; but now I’m sure it’s the man. I met him on the cars when I went down the line on Wednesday—a hard case if ever there was one. He said he was a reporter. I believed it for the moment. Wanted to know all he could about the Scowrers and what he called ‘the outrages’ for a New York paper. Asked me every kind of question so as to get something. You bet I was giving nothing away. ‘I’d pay for it and pay well,’ said he, ‘if I could get some stuff that would suit my editor.’ I said what I thought would please him best, and he handed me a twenty-dollar bill for my information. ‘There’s ten times that for you,’ said he, ‘if you can find me all that I want.’”

“What did you tell him, then?”

“Any stuff I could make up.”

“How do you know he wasn’t a newspaper man?”

“I’ll tell you. He got out at Hobsons Patch, and so did I. I chanced into the telegraph bureau, and he was leaving it.

“‘See here,’ said the operator after he’d gone out, ‘I guess we should charge double rates for this.’—‘I guess you should,’ said I. He had filled [295]

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Rh and that it’s as much as my life would be worth to let him come while folk were about. He’ll see that that’s horse sense. Let him come at ten o’clock at night, and he shall see everything. That will fetch him sure.”

“Well?”

“You can plan the rest for yourselves. Widow MacNamara’s is a lonely house. She’s as true as steel and as deaf as a post. There’s only Scanlan and me in the house. If I get his promise,—and I’ll let you know if I do,—I’d have the whole seven of you come to me by nine o’clock. We’ll get him in. If ever he gets out alive—well, he can talk of Birdy Edwards’ luck for the rest of his days!”

“There’s going to be a vacancy at Pinkerton’s or I’m mistaken. Leave it at that, McMurdo. At nine tomorrow we’ll be with you. You once get the door shut behind him, and you can leave the rest with us.” [297]

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S McMurdo had said, the house in which he lived was a lonely one and very well suited for such a crime as they had planned. It was on the extreme fringe of the town and stood well back from the road. In any other case the conspirators would have simply called out their man, as they had many a time before, and emptied their pistols into his body; but in this instance it was very necessary to find out how much he knew, how he knew it, and what had been passed on to his employers.

It was possible that they were already too late and that the work had been done. If that were indeed so, they could at least have their revenge upon the man who had done it. But they were hopeful that nothing of great importance had [298]

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Rh yet come to the detective’s knowledge, as otherwise, they argued, he would not have troubled to write down and forward such trivial information as McMurdo claimed to have given him. However, all this they would learn from his own lips. Once in their power, they would find a way to make him speak. It was not the first time that they had handled an unwilling witness.

McMurdo went to Hobsons Patch as agreed. The police seemed to take particular interest in him that morning, and Captain Marvin—he who had claimed the old acquaintance with him at Chicago—actually addressed him as he waited at the station. McMurdo turned away and refused to speak with him. He was back from his mission in the afternoon, and saw McGinty at the Union House.

“He is coming,” he said.

“Good!” said McGinty. The giant was in his shirt sleeves, with chains and seals gleaming athwart his ample waistcoat and a diamond twinkling through the fringe of his bristling beard. Drink and politics had made the Boss a very rich as well as powerful man. The more terrible, therefore, seemed that glimpse of the [299]

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Rh He’s a hard proposition. He’s heavily armed. I’ve fooled him proper, and yet he is likely to be on his guard. Suppose I show him right into a room with seven men in it where he expected to find me alone. There is going to be shooting, and somebody is going to be hurt.”

“That’s so.”

“And the noise is going to bring every damned copper in the township on top of it.”

“I guess you are right.”

“This is how I should work it. You will all be in the big room—same as you saw when you had a chat with me. I’ll open the door for him, show him into the parlor beside the door, and leave him there while I get the papers. That will give me the chance of telling you how things are shaping. Then I will go back to him with some faked papers. As he is reading them I will jump for him and get my grip on his pistol arm. You’ll hear me call and in you will rush. The quicker the better; for he is as strong a man as I, and I may have more than I can manage. But I allow that I can hold him till you come.”

“It’s a good plan,” said McGinty. “The lodge will owe you a debt for this. I guess when I [303]

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Rh “You’re safer there, Councilor,” said the man whom they had known as McMurdo. “And you, Baldwin, if you don’t take your hand off your pistol, you’ll cheat the hangman yet. Pull it out, or by the Lord that made me There, that will do. There are forty armed men round this house, and you can figure it out for yourself what chance you have. Take their pistols, Marvin!”

There was no possible resistance under the menace of those rifles. The men were disarmed. Sulky, sheepish, and amazed, they still sat round the table.

“I’d like to say a word to you before we separate,” said the man who had trapped them. “I guess we may not meet again until you see me on the stand in the courthouse. I’ll give you something to think over between now and then. You know me now for what I am. At last I can put my cards on the table. I am Birdy Edwards of Pinkerton’s. I was chosen to break up your gang. I had a hard and dangerous game to play. Not a soul, not one soul, not my nearest and dearest, knew that I was playing it. Only Captain Marvin here and my employers knew that. [310]

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120 got its law rescinded. Many a bruised and battered English wife has since had occasion to deplore that cruel achievement of sentimental "humanity."

Twenty-five lashes! In Australia and Tasmania they gave a convict fifty for almost any little offense; and sometimes a brutal officer would add fifty, and then another fifty, and so on, as long as the sufferer could endure the torture and live. In Tasmania I read the entry, in an old manuscript official record, of a case where a convict was given three hundred lashes—for stealing some silver spoons. And men got more than that, sometimes. Who handled the cat? Often it was another convict; sometimes it was the culprit's dearest comrade; and he had to lay on with all his might; otherwise he would get a flogging himself for his mercy—for he was under watch—and yet not do his friend any good: the friend would be attended to by another hand and suffer no lack in the matter of full punishment.

The convict life in Tasmania was so unendurable, and suicide so difficult to accomplish that once or twice despairing men got together and drew straws to determine which of them should kill another of the group—this murder to secure death to the perpetrator and to the witnesses of it by the hand of the hangman!

The incidents quoted above are mere hints, mere suggestions of what convict life was like—they are but a couple of details tossed into view out of a shoreless sea of such; or, to change the figure, they are but a pair of flaming steeples photographed from a point which hides from sight the burning city which stretches away from their bases on every hand.

Some of the contacts—indeed, a good many of them—were very bad people, even for that day; but the most of them were probably not noticeably worse than the average of the people they left behind them at home. We must believe this;


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Rh Miss Ettie Shafter, a mission which he had accepted with a wink and a knowing smile. In the early hours of the morning a beautiful woman and a much muffled man boarded a special train which had been sent by the railroad company, and made a swift, unbroken journey out of the land of danger. It was the last time that ever either Ettie or her lover set foot in the Valley of Fear. Ten days later they were married in Chicago, with old Jacob Shafter as witness of the wedding.

The trial of the Scowrers was held far from the place where their adherents might have terrified the guardians of the law. In vain they struggled. In vain the money of the lodge—money squeezed by blackmail out of the whole countryside—was spent like water in the attempt to save them. That cold, clear, unimpassioned statement from one who knew every detail of their lives, their organization, and their crimes was unshaken by all the wiles of their defenders. At last after so many years they were broken and scattered. The cloud was lifted forever from the valley.

McGinty met his fate upon the scaffold, cring- [314]

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Rh ing and whining when the last hour came. Eight of his chief followers shared his fate. Fifty-odd had various degrees of imprisonment. The work of Birdy Edwards was complete.

And yet, as he had guessed, the game was not over yet. There was another hand to be played, and yet another and another. Ted Baldwin, for one, had escaped the scaffold; so had the Willabys; so had several others of the fiercest spirits of the gang. For ten years they were out of the world, and then came a day when they were free once more,—a day which Edwards, who knew his men, was very sure would be an end of his life of peace. They had sworn an oath on all that they thought holy to have his blood as a vengeance for their comrades. And well they strove to keep their vow!

From Chicago he was chased, after two attempts so near success that it was sure that the third would get him. From Chicago he went under a changed name to California, and it was there that the light went for a time out of his life when Ettie Edwards died. Once again he was nearly killed, and once again under the name of Douglas he worked in a lonely canyon, where [315]

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Rh with an English partner named Barker he amassed a fortune. At last there came a warning to him that the bloodhounds were on his track once more, and he cleared—only just in time—for England. And thence came the John Douglas who for a second time married a worthy mate, and lived for five years as a Sussex county gentleman, a life which ended with the strange happenings of which we have heard. [316]

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