HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE VOL. XCVII JUNE, 1898 No. DLXXVII TilE CZARS PEOPLE. BY JULIAK RALPH. TN a sentence, IRussia is a huge farm, comprising a seventh of the land sur- face of the globe, and a twenty-sixth of its total area. It has half a dozen men to manage jt~according to the policy of one of the sixand the people are divided into ten miVlions of men and women of the more or less comfortable, more or less educated class, and one huPdred and nine- teen millions of citizens the mass of whom form the dullest, rudest, least ambitious peasantry in Europe. If one travels over Russia to spy out the land, he may go for days across it from west to east without breakin~ the continnoils view of a flat disk, whose only variety lies between its farmed flatness and its waste flatness, its sq uat, shrinking, unkempt villa~cs and its sandy districts wooded with thin birch or evergreens. Everywhere it is new, rude, and un- tidy. Or he may start from the almost limit- less forest that belts the north of Russia and Siberia and travel for a greater numn- her of days over a precisely similar flat and tiresome reach of farm-land, every- where slovenly and unkempt, and varied again by sparse woods and villages of brown thatched huts, each village crowd- ing around a huge white Greek church with Oriental towers and points of gold. Mud roads that are mere rongh trails, low-browed, shaggy-haired, dirty men and women, of the intelligent status of Indian squaws, are the only other objects he will see. To obtain a view of what any Enro- pean wonld honor with the name of scenery he must go to the further boun- daries of the European half of the empire to the lovely wooded and rocky islets and emerald lakes of Finland in the west, to the not very scenically grand Urals in Copyright, 1898, by Harper and Brothers. All righta reaerved. to start for St. Petersburg from London no one who could have smoothed the way for me was in England. Even the Russian minister was absent, and when I presented to his secretary my letters of the east, to the charming hills by the introdijction he read them mechanically Black Sea in what Russia calls its Riviera, and handed them back, and said, If your or, further south, to the truly splendid, minister in St. Petersburg wishes to make the ma~nificent scenery of the Caucasus. himself responsible for you, he will do so. But the men of Russia who see the This embassy knows nothing about you. bulk of their country see only the steppes, Yes, I see your letters from your Secretary marshy or sandy in the north, and black of State and other prominent Americans, and rich in the south, but everywhere a but I know nothing about you. checker-board of farms and waste places, Finally, when I reached St. Peters- everywhere flat as a table, and every- burg, Mr. Breckinridge, our minister, where untidy, or, where the people con- was on his holidays in Finland, so that gre~ate together, squalid. There are not- never did tourist enter a foreign country able exceptions to this very general rule, with fewer advantages than I, so far as and they are the cities. Warsaw is not the Russians were concerned. The tales Russian at all, but Polish, which is to say, of the difficulties encountered by the vis- eloquent of the best genius of Europe. itor to Russia, of the close surveillance of St. Petersburg is artificial, planned to be his movements by the police, and of the an imitation European town, and main- facility with which a traveller may sub- tamed as such by the government in ject himself to suspicion and be expelled, spite of its still great unpopularity with or have his passport torn up and him- the mass of the people, even of the most self disappear (in Siberia) as completely enligliitened among them. Moscow is dis- as if the earth had swallowed himsuch appointing as a European city, and yet, tales now form a considerable literature outside the Kremlin, is nothing else; and by themselves; and if a tourist is render- Odessa is a very lively modern commer- ed uneasy by them before he gets to Rus- cial and cosmopolitan capital. Helsing- sia, I can assure him that he will gather fors, the Finnish capital, is rather small enough more of such stories after crossing to put in the list, but it is one of the finest the frontier to spoil his visit and his rest small cities in Europeand is not Rus- at night if he be nervous, timid, or extra- sian. Most of the other cities, small and imaginative. I will not say that the oh- large, ezcept Nijni-Novgorod, which has struction, surveillance, suspicion, and ex- been denationalized and rendered exces- traordinary autocratic practices that we sively commonplace by the government have all read and heard about are not in order to render it the artificial setting there to meet you on the frontier, shad- for an exotic exposition, are more or less owing you afterwards, investigatin~ your primitive, shabby, dirty, native Asiatic. baggage while you sleep, and opening all It is of interest for the reader to know letters to and from you the rest of the how the sight-seer in Russia is welcomed, time, but I am compelled tQ admit that I and in what degree of comfort he travels was unaware of the least part of all this there. It happened that when I was ready during my travels. A BIT OF SEBASTOrOL. THE CZAIRS PEOPLE. 5 I was never less troubled by foreign police, or their agents, the door-porters, customs laws and regulations in any wben entering a friendly residence. It journey I have ever made. is also possible to leave Russia without a Every man in Russia, and every wo- passport if one risks the frontier dangers man, if she wishes to travel from her town of sea, forest, wilderness, and desolate ex- to the next, must have a passport. Ev- pansesand of detection. But taking erybody must have one in order to pass Russia by and large, in ordinary, peaceful the frontier in either direction. A pass- times, the purpose of its strong govern- port is as necessary to a Russian who de- ment, one of whose chief items of expense sires to return to his native land as it is must be for police service, is to make it to an American who wishes to visit that impossible to depart, enter, or travel there country. Certain classes of officials have without a passport. special passports that relieve them from I entered by steamer from Stockholm, the necessity of explaining where they are stopping at several Finland ports. I left going when they make a journey in their the ship at each place and roamed about, own country, but these must be carried but as I did not register or put up at any by them,. I fancy that even the mem- hotel, I was not asked for my passport. bers of the Czars cabinet have to carry As I was booked through to St. Peters- passports when they go about Russia. The es- piona~,e is very strict in Poland, always very uniform and thorough in Russia proper, and has been very mild and somewhat lax in Fin- land, whose people gave themselves to the Rus- sian Empire, and were treated with marvellous consideration until a fe~v years ago, when the Russianizin g process be- gan, and the conscrip- tion law was extended to that splendid Euro- pean, un-Russian prov- ince. When there is any new military im- provement or move- ment afoot, as is now apparently the case in trans-Caspia, the sur- veillance of travellers becomes very strict. When there is trouble with an unruly popula- tion, as was the case in a part of Georgia over the Caucasus when I was there, foreigners are warned away. I may be mistaken, but it seemed to me that a man might travel in Russia without a pass- port if he avoided hotels and dwellin~,s, or if he escaped the notice of the AN IMPERIAL SENTRY. burg, no customs officer called for it on the ship at any other place. On the ship were three women who were doing one of those irregular, unnecessary, risky things that members of their lovely sex are more given to doing than men. They had slipped out of Finland without per- mission, and were coming back into Rus- sia without having had their passports visdd where they had travelled. Two, a married French woman and her English companion, had been holidaying in Fin- land, and had run over to Stockholm to see the Worlds Fair. The other, a Polish Jewess, had slipped out and gone to Paris. There must have been grave dereliction to make this possible. All three had taken tickets back to a Finland port, and then bought new tickets from that port to St. Petersburg in order to deceive the Rus- sian police, and to enable the ship-captain, whose services they easily enlisted, to tell a white lie, and say they came only from the Russian port where they bought their last tickets. Nevertheless, they were dreadfully alarmed at what might hap- pen at St. Petersburg; and I, with a head full of sensational stories of Russian strictness and severity and of Russian prejudice against journalists, was inter- ested in my own fatein a journalistic wayi. c., like one who stands apart and watches what happens to himself. Nothing happened. If my trunk and big portmanteau had been filled with dynamite bombs, the Russians would not have discovered it, for they did not take the trouble to examine my luggage. As soon as our ship was tied to the wharf a very dandified officer of middle age, accompanied by a clerk, hurried into the dining-saloon and sat down at a table, upon which a waiter had laid an ink-pot and a pen. Get the people in line, said the officer. His manner was that of a man who is already late for a dinner party and is being still longer delayed. He seized the first passport and stabbed the ink-pot with his pen. The bottle gave out a hollow dry sonnd of emptiness, and from that instant the laws, the watchful- ness, and the majesty of Russia took a back seat, behind and subordinate to the petty annoyance the ink-bottle caused. The officer stabbed the bottle hard, tried to write, stabbed the bottle harder, made an incoherent illegible flourish of broken lines on the first passport, fumed, stabbed the bottle still harder, seized the next passport, and began to damn everything around him. The line filed before him eagerly, seeing how engrossed he was with his misfortune. New passports were pressed upon him. He gronnd his pen around and around in the nearly dry bottle, and groaned, and cursed the HEL5INGFOE5, THE CAPITAL OF FINLANn. THE CZARS PEOPLE. 7 ship. He did not examine a passport except to find the place for his sig- nature, whereup- on each time he clutched the bottle in one hand, and with the pen in his other hand tried to dig out its bottom. At last he damned his clerk, who then for the ~first time took notice of the trouble, and went off to get the cap- tains ink. It was like a bit of a play to see the Polish Jewess wriggle ahead of her place to get her passport signed before the fresh ink came and while the officer was in the heat of his fracas with the bottle. The husband of the French woman with the English companion had come aboard, and it was he who presented the passports of the law-breaking women. lie was a person of consequence in diplomatic circles, and tried to impress the officer with the air of a man of affairs engaging in a tedious formality. Kindly sign thisladies in my chargea cab waits, said he, in French. I am permitted to have only half a drop of ink, said the officer, now red- THE EsrLANAnE. HELSINGFORS. faced, grinding the pen in the bottle as a chemist uses a pestle in a mortar. I waited till the lasttill he got fresh ink and plenty, and calmed himself and squared off at the table with a sigh of re- lief. If the runaways from Russia had come up then, he would have questioned themperhaps convicted them with the things from Stockholm and Paris in their boxes. But it was my turn, and my own passport so surprised him by its novelty that he studied its big eagle and its en- graved flourishes, and then looked at me and said, Americausky, and bowed as if I had gained some admirable quality by merely coming a great distance, as tea and os- trich feathers did before the days of steam. My Murrays Guide had told me that I must get a new passportwith new in italicsand yet my old one, all frescoed with Turkish hieroglyphics made in Edhem Pashas train, had served very well. My Murray next said that the customs ex- aminations were very strict, and that the tourist would find it wisest and quickest to exercise a great deal of patience. So I held my breath for this grand test of quality ST. ISAACS CATHEnRAL, ST. rETERSBURG. 8 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. that is utterly lacking in my make-up. I saw the boxes and bags of others being emptied on the deck, and consultations of all the inspectois going on over bits of a few yards of lace and over little knick- knacks from foreign shops. Presently a man caine to me. En glishky? he asked. Dar, dar, said I, meaning yes, made soft and gracious by duplication. Take your things away, he signalled in pantomime. Dont open them. Get a porter. Here porter, take these things. I slipped a rouble (half a dollar) in his hand, and rolled away in a droschka to the H6tel de France, where, as soon as I had said I was satisfied with the only room there was, the porter-the function- ary who appears to run every hotel in Russiaremarked, Passport, please, for the police. So that absolutely the only trouble I found in entering Russia was in my own groundless anticipation; and afterwards, as I roamed from the Neva to the Black Sea, and into Asia, and back again to the Don, and through Poland, I did not even have the annoyance of borrowing trouble. At every hotel in European Russia the porter wanted my passport and wanted it immediately. In Russia proper it was kept from me a day or two, and once for six days. In Georgia, in Asia, it was not kept an hour. In the journey across the Caucasus Mountains it was not asked for. Every time it came back to me it had a new vis6 on itprinted lines made with a rubber stamp and with other lines writ- ten in, and the police signature added. In several places police stamps like postage- stamps were affixed to these declarations of approval. Whenever a high - priced stamp was put on it was stolen at the next city, evidently because it could be used a~ am as well as not. The highest-priced stamp thus taken was for 80 copecks, or 40 cents. I was allowed to come away with two or three stamps for 10 and 20 copecks. And sians. now as to Russia and the Rus- As long as I tried to compare Russia with the coun- tries of the West, and to consider it from a European stand- point, I found myself more than disappoint- ed, almost hostile to it. The sight of the desperately poor mill- ions unconsidered, non - considering, at rest in their cattlelike condition; the com- prehension of thevast- ness of the gulf be- txveen the millions upon millions of them and their few, so- called, betters ; the shabbiness and want of pride of the sol- diers, and the dirti- ness and filthy quar- ters of the sailors these were not comparable with Ameri- can or European institutions, except at such a disadvantage to Russia as to arouse indignation at the thought that such conditions were the natural out- come of the system of government. How could European comparisons be made in a country where the poems of Heinrich Heine are not admitted, and the possession of a modern gentlemans library is an act of treason punishable with exile to Siberia? With what feel- ings must one who goes to Russia to compare it with France, for instance, ar- rive at the knowled~e that in the main the mental cultivation possessed by the upper class is a mere surface polish, that a civil engineer knows nothing but his A NEYSKY rER5rEcTIvE. science, that every specialist has had his learning confined to his speciality? Or learn that when a servant-girl goes away on a visit, and fails to announce her safe manners thereof all seem European. One arrival at her destination, the police, on cannot look into the houses of the rich being applied to for news of her, present and powerful and know that only the a report of every step she has taken since public rooms are ordered tidily, and that leaving her employer, every person she the private parts of the houses are neg- has spoken to, every shop she has called lected, not even the beds being made up, at, one mi~ht almost say every breath she very often, until it is time to get into them again. Nor can a stranger see into the head of the Russian who casually men- tions Moli~re or Thomas Jefferson and perceive that he merely repeats these names, hut has not read Moli~res plays or studied the declaration of our inde- pen dence. But let the visitor to Russia pursue his comparisons until, as nearly every one fails, he concludes that he must be doing Russia an injusticeuntil he comes to re- flect that the hasis and root of its civiliza- tioii are Asiatic, and not European. Then the task of studying the huge, growing. progressive empire becomes easy and more pleasant at once. Let him once say Russia is Asiatic, and with the change of his view-point he sees every- thin~ differently. Then he stops criticis- ing, and begins admiring. He is not in the last and most primitive corner of Europe. He is in the first and most ad- x~ancing country of Asia. If any Russian objects to that view- point, he will not find fault or contradict if it is said that at least Russia is a land that lies between Europe and Asia. has drawn. These are a few of the thousand things that a tourist sees or feels or learns in Russia to make him judge it severely, if he considers it as European. The mis- take of so considering it is encouraged by as many other things that are copied from those of Europe. St. Petersburg, Moscow, Odessa, Sebastopol, are all built like European cities, with European-look- in houses, facing European streets, with horse-cars and cabs and shops as full of Berlin-made trash and Viennese rubbish as are the shops of all European capitals, from Christiania to Constantinople. One cannot see in a day that, however they look, these cities are all under martial law. No one can know at a glance that the porters at the doors and gates of the dwellings and hotels form part of the police system. It is not apparent to the new-coiner that every Russian he sees is numbered, and carries his passport in his pocket, and is as dependent on it for his safety as if it were a log to which he was clingin~ in mid-ocean. No, the cities and their scenes and inhabitants and the THE STATION AT MOORAVIEFE-AMOOR5KY, EASTERN SIBERIA. 10 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. I considered it Asiatic when its resem- blances to what I had seen in other coun- tries of the East forced home the coir~par- ison. And from that moment I was able to judge it calmly. In Asia the systems of government are less military, but Rus- sia is forced into militarism by her con- tact with Europe. The lack of machine- like discipline in the Russian soldiery is truly Asiatic, and so are the stagnation, patience, suffering, and squalor of the people. In Russia they are drunken, in- stead of being gamblers and opium-smok- ers as in China. The absence of a mid- dle class and the gulf that takes its place are Asiatic conditions. In Russia rio man except a member of the cabinet or a dip- lomat dares to discuss politics. In other Asiatic countries the people are not for- bidden to discuss them, because they have never shown any inclination to do so. No more do the 119,000,000 muzhiks of Russia. Their intellectual activity never goes beyond the affairs of village, family, farm, or employment. Their niost active interest is in religion, but they make of that such a mere tissue of forms and me- chanical or automatic practices that it is carried on without any more mental ef- fort than the activity of a victim of St. Vituss dance. The leaven of pro~ress is not in the muzhik any more than it is in the coohie. If Russias system of govern- ment is to be threatened or altered, it niust be by the ten million who reflect the European ideals in their dress and manners, and who present fertile ground for the propagation of European reforms the seeds of which, in the forms of free speech and free press and free literature, are denied to them. Russias danger is from the top; the bottom is sodden. When we come to consider the treat- ment of criminals in Russia, and the laws which determine what is criminal, I make bold to say that they have incurred sen- sational exposure and attack, and have aroused Western indignation largely by exaggeration. and because of that very wholesome Western egotism which con- demns everything not fashioned in its own moulds. In her treatment of ci-iminals, more than in anything else, Russia di- lutes Asiatic practice with European self- restraint. In this she treats her own Asic atic traditions with a violence as marked as the consideration she shows for the lives and feelings of those who defy her laws. I am not Asiatic or a champion of Asia, yet I can see that there are two sides to this question, however much I may sor- row over the harder side. The side we do not all think of is that in this solitary system among those that are Asiatic or of Asiatic stock there is very little capital punishment; that treasonous offences are punished mercifully from the Russian point of view; that, taking the whole not very great annual exodu~ of prisoners to Siberia, the majom-ity have no right to arouse the indignation and sympathy that we expend upon the few intellectual prisoners whose lot seems to ns so pain- ful; that these very sufferers are of Rus- sian blood and training, and, being intel- ligent, are certain to have perfectly un- derstood and accepted the chances when opposing the laws of their country; and finally, that in Russia and out of it there is plenty of foreign, free, and unpurchased testimony to show that the condition of the prisoners and the exiles is not nearly so bad as those who play upon the excep- tional sensitiveness of American republi- cans have caused us to imagine. I remember that the first time I spoke of Siberia, when in Russia., was to my waiter in a St. Petersburg hotel. Ini afraid I should go to Siberia if I gave you my opinion, said I. That would not be so bad, said he. Most people are better off than ever, when they are sent to Siberia. The next time the subject was broached was in conversation with a Russian pro- fessional man in Moscow. Exile to Si- beria is very hard on men of education and gentlemen without means, but to the n)ajority it means an improved condi- tion, said lie. The third mention of the matter was to a German traveller. It struck me, said he, that the colonists in Siberia thought themselves worse off than any one else. They complained of the crimi- nals who had served their time in prison and had to remaimi in Siberia, and who took work and money that the colonists thought ought to be exclusively their own. Finally, I have just read the opinion of Lieutenant - Colonel Waters, the British military attachid who was the last man of note to niake the trip across Siberia. and is of a nationality tbe most reniote from any tendency to gloss over Russian faults. I can deny with absolute authority, lie says;, the oft-repeated stories of Siberian 0 0 z 0 0 0 z z 0 z 12 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. horrors and Ru. sian cruelty. Durin~ my journey in midwinter, when, accordin~ to the statements of some, the traveller might expect to come across chained gangs of prisoners on their way to the mines, many dying unheeded on the road- side, I saw nothin~ of the kind. There was no question of prepar tion for my approach. I caught up hundreds of con- victs on the road, and conversed with them in their own language. In the depth of a Russian winter, with 9O~ of frost, I found these exiles travelling in comfort, smoking and singing. In every case they were well clothed and well fed, and, so far from dying on the road - side, any prisoner falling lame or becoming ill was placed in a carriage and driven to the nearest I ospital. As a matter of fact, in a majority of cases the Si- berian exile is far better off than if he were at home. Take the chil- dien, for instance, who accompany their parents into exile; inste of having to subsist on black bread, as they would in the ordinar~ way, they are give white bread and milk nntil they re five years of age, and are clothed and fed well. Only mur derers and dangeious crim- inals are chained, and their fettei s are carefuil padded so as not to injure the legs. I have not only not seen any case of ill treatment but, what is more, I have not even heard of one. Even the Poles who were exiled for insurrection are now in many cases free to return to Russia, and sev- eral are employed as gov- ernment officials. Political prisoners, unle s they have committed some serions non-political crime, are not imprisoned, their heads a~e not shaved, and they are not fettered. Criminals, on the other hand, re kept in prison for only a short time if on good behavior. They are then released, having plenty of time to work on their own ac- count al)d to make money. I can only add that I know that I am perfectly sat- isfiedthat the treatment of all classes of prisoners is remarkably kind, and that the sensational stone. urrent n some quarters aic absolute y nutrue. Remarkably kind I know nothing personally of the merits of the question, whether or no the horrors of Siberia com- monly painted in such high colors really exist, but that woid kind suggests to A \ INTEa CAB, ST. rETERsaURG. A 5UMMER CAB, ST. rETERsBLRG. ne that if I were asked to dwell on the most remarkable trait of the Russian, it would be upon his kindliness that I would rest longest. It is the best and greatest gift of muzhik and lord alike. And it is distinctly un-Asiatic, in spite of Russia~s many resemblances to Asia. Everywhere that you glance it is upon smiling, kindly, friendly faces. Every accident, misfortune, ~r embarrassment you see or meet with strikes the note of sympathy, which is most easily sounded in all Russian breasts. If you ask peasant, priest, or noble to direct you on your way, he will often go part of the way with you. If you cannot speak the language, and yet try to make your- self understood, there is never any ridicule or half-concealed amusementonly a de- monstrative effort to understand and as- sist. The native African is happier, be- cause the Slav blood in the Russian makes him hang forever between elation and despondency, but the African is nowhere so sympathetic, so friendly, or so kind- hearted. His critics call the Russian a great prevaricator, and declare him singu- larly lacking in a knowledge of the dif- ference between memn and teum, but at least he is kindlyalways, everywhere, chronically. And when we consider the rigid veracity of the Finns, and see it ac- companied with cold selfishness, easily aroused anger and pursuit of revenge, or when we contemplate the extraordinary honesty of those who live next beyond the Finns, and have their own hard faults, we turn to the kindliness of the Russian, and say to ourselves that it is at least a com- pensating virtue. The Russians are a restless people, and if the railway statistics do not show that they travel as much as we, it is partly be- cause so many move about on foot, partly because so few, comparatively, have the means to make long journeys by rail, and partly because of the limitations imposed on travel by the passport system. The railway fares are the lowest in Europe. Since they were made so the chief cities of the country have grown remarkably St. Petersburg most of all. The trains run very slowly, express trains are few and, so far as I saw, are confined to the railroad between St. Petersburg and Mos- cow. On all the other roads the trains stop for tedious lengths of time at all sta- tions. Here criticism of the roads ends, and this is a criticism not expressed in T~~ES OF RUSSIAN CABBIES. 14 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. Russiawbere the rate of railway speed is satisfactory to the people. The road-beds, the maintenance of way, the stations, coaches, and engines, are equal to the best on the Continent, and whoever takes a French sleeper into Russia finds, when he gets there, that the first-class Russian sleepers are better. The first railway in Russia was built by an American, and the influence of American railway methods is still apparent on all the roads. The pas- senger-cars are modified to meet the exi- gencies of caste, but the better-class freight traffic is carried on with very large box cars, as with us, instead of on fiat cars roofed with tarpauling, as in England and France. Wood-burning locomotives, like those we used to have, are still to be seen but on the main lines they are stoking with coal or with naphtha refuse. The first-class trains are corridored, and carry primitive dining-cars as well as excellent compartment sleepers, like those used in America. The stations are uncommonly large, well built, and handsome, with orderly and often beautiful grounds. Labor is so cheap and plentiful that the whole route is often permanently manned, and instead of a mere grass line, or tidied edge be- side the road-bed, such as a few of our great railways maintain, I have seen the soil between the ends of the ties and the grass line scraped smooth, then pat- terned with a rake, and in one case sprinkled for miles. At all the busy stations there are restaurants which are a great deal better than any we ever knew before the days of dining-cars, the rule being to set a large and hand- some room with small tables and a bar, and to serve a warm meal either ~t la carte or ta- ble dh6te. In this land of good fare I have had near- ly as satisfactory meals in some of these stations as in the best hotels. The trains are started with two warning-bells preceding the starting-bella practice we have no time for, but which is admirable where the stoppages are so long. The use that is made of spare rails is most extraordi- nary. All the telegraph poles are short sticks riveted to upright rails; the cross- road gates are made of rails; so are the frames of the cement platforms of the stations~ so are the station-garden rail- ings,whichi are made by crossing the rails in a great variety of pretty patterns. The views from the car windows have been often said to remind us Americans of home, but they only suggest a certain part of our countrySouth Dakota more than any otherand only this because of the great areas of land under wheat, the nature of the trees, the appearance of low- grade lignite coal in the earth, the use of wood for all structures, and in a general way by the character of the surface of the earth. The tremendous and showy-white churches which tower devouringly above the villages, the villages themselves, which are often mere collections of huts and cabins, and finally, the windmills set in rows or framing hollow squaresthese are common Russian objects that are not at all American-like. In the Russian cities one lives fairly well, from a European stand-point. The AN OMNIBUS TO THE SUBURB OF MO5COW. THE CZARS PEOPLE. 15 hotels are not good, and where all classes are untidy, and discipline is either lacking or spasmodic, it is not possible that they should be. The only really excellent hotel that I found in my journeys was the Hotel Orient, in Tiflis, Georgia. It was managed by a Swiss and his wife, and they had learned to avoid Russians and Armenians in picking their servants, all of whom were Georgians. St. Petersburg has none but second-class hotels. Moscow has one great modern hotel building of showy desi~n, but while stopping there four days on my first visit I saw four women servants drunk, the hall porters were often smoking or asleep on duty, and the halls and stairs were very dirty. An excellent thing about all the hotels in Russia is that the servants needed for each floor are kept on that floor, where there is also a rudimentary kitchen. Tea, coffee, cooked eggs, bread and butter, hot water, and such simple things are to be had quickly, and so is the attendance of the hall porter, boy, and maid. Russia is a stronghold of good fare. In the cities the best inventions of the cooks of Europe are as familiar as pure Russian cooking, the chief elements of which I found very palatable. Stchi, the regular soup of the people, is not half bad; and borsch, which is stchi colored with beets, enhanced by other vegetables, thickened with sour cream, and eaten with a side dish of roasted buckwheat, is a dish that would win its way around the world. The best bread I have found anywhere, better even than the Hungarian, is the IRussian white bread. The bread of the people is black rye bread, like pumpernickel, but sweeter, damper, and looser. It is said to keep the teeth of the peasants white and their bodies strong. The tea of Russia, to one who has lived in England, where they drink a sort of tanners dye and call it tea, is delicious. It js always served in thin glasses, with su~,,ar and a slice of lemon. The wines are extravagantly bad, excepting certain brands from the Crimea and from Bessarabia, which are nearly as A MANCHURTAN SCENE. good as the Californianthe best low- back to his horses and chats with his priced table wines in the world. The fare, the pasha. Exactly ~o does the servants are lazy, loquacious, and farnil- isvostchik, or cabman, of Russia. Of mr. You always find tbis sug~,estiou of course this used to be so in the English democracy where there is autocracy, or feudal hall, where the lord and his re- tyranny, or slavery, or where society is tainers all ate together, and rejoiced over divided into only two classes, as in Russia. his successes and mourned his bereave- The heaviest swell on the steamship go- ments together. But to-day it has be- ing to Russia, an officer of the Empresss come an Asiatic condition. Guard, kept stiffly aloof from the cabin In an article about the people of Rus- passengers, but was freely approached sia and the de~.ree of their civilization and engaged in conversation by the Finn there should be a note upon the appear- and Russian peasants of the steerage. ance they present. Since they include The fashionable men on their way to no middle class, there are but two sets to Yalta on the Black Sea for the grape-cure describe, and these may be fairly dealt and the whirl of social dissipation went with as the uniformed class and the mu- arnon,,, the bundled-up dirty peasants on zhiks. When a visitor observes, before the forward deck, and passed their ciga- anything else, the multiplicity of uni- rettes to them to light their own with, and forms in the streets, far exceeding in chatted freely with them. Everywhere number even those to be met with in in Russia I noticed this. The position of Germany or France, and then learns that the man in uniform is as secure as that of the cities are under military rule, he the wretch in long boots and a sheep- jumps to the conclusion that it is an skin coat, therefore they are at ease with abundance of soldiery which litters every one another. It is so in China, where view with dull blue or gray cloth touch- the mobs flatten their noses against the ed with buttons of silver or gold. It was mandarins windows to see what he is do- a long time before I learned that these ing in his house. It is so in Turkey, military - looking garments were by no where the Araba-ji, or cabman, turns his means all on the persons of soldiers, and TROITZA CONVENT NEAR MO5CO~ THE CZARS PEOPLE. 17 to-day I cannot always be certain wheth- er a man in uniform is a warrior or a professor of rhetoric in a boys academy. It was in the Caucasus that I travelled along with a man in uniform who said lie was an engineer, and offered to prepare for me an account of the resources of that mountain district. Supposing that he was a leader in the highest branch of the army, I rejoiced at my good fortune; but presently another Russian said: You must not trust too much to what he says. He is simply the employd of some company owning land here and wishing to attract capital with which to develop it. Isnt he an officer of the en- gineer corps? I asked. He is simply a civil engineer, said my acquaint- ance; arid so I came by degrees to learn that all students, all gov- eminent emplo- yes, railway men, and all profes- sionals, like doc- tors, lawyers, ar chitects and teachers, as well as all officials, civil or military, are obIi~ed to A FATHER 5~PERIOR. wear uniforms. Therefore the sol- dieis I saw romping with maid - ser- vants, wheeling baby - carriages, loafing and smoking on the corners, and going about by the thousand with overcoats caught by one button at the neck and worn with the sleeves loose, may not have been soldiers after all. As for the nobles, barring the quantity the men drank and the publicity with which the elderly women smoked cigarettes, they were as like the aristocrats of Europe in taste and richness of dress and apparent cultivation as one silk hat is like another. The muzhiks have been described to tire- someness perhaps. I was so fortunate as to see them in both their summer and winter costumesthat is, before and af ter they donned their warm sheepskin coats and wrapped their lets in cloth. At both times they were dull - looking, dirty folk, with very long hair and beards, with wives cruelly aged before their time, and bent and wrinkled terribly. I thought them a very fine race physically, the men being stout and strong and often very large, while the young women were as promising, from the important point of view of motherhood, as any peasant wo- men I ever saw~ The utter hopelessness of the condition of the great black mass of peasants which underlies the light erubroid- ery of the uni- formed class in Russia makes it the drunkenest peasantry in Eu- rope. The fact that Russia is mainly a huge farm brings to that mass a winter of idleness. The shortness of the daylight over the great northern half of the empire in winter tends greatly to increase the drinking hiab- its of the muzhik. Corn brandy, or whiskey, as we would say, is the staple intoxicant. It is a colorless liquid,as transpar- ent as gin; but with the almost sparkling clearness of distilled waterfire would be a better word for this sparkle, because vodka is a liquid which starts a train of fire at the palate and blazes its way through ones body to ones boots. Sod- den drunkenness is what I saw most of. The peculiar, hilarious, noisy, exuberant intoxication of the whiskey drunkard which I had expected to see continually fell under my observation only two or three times in all my journeyings. Among the many important activities of M.Witte, the Finance Minister, none is more extraordinary than his effort to make the vodka trade a government monopoly. The scheme is attractively subtitled one A VILLAGE WINTER SCENE. to counteract the evil efrects of the on- and at prices fixed by the government. ginal dram - shops. It aims to provide a It is the law of South Carolina carried purer grade of whiskey to the masses, and out consistently from the rootthe pur- to break the power of the dram-shops, chase of the grain and its distillation xvliich have been so managed in the past instead of being begun in the middle, as as to make them pawn-shops as well as by Governor Tiliman. For the public public-houseseven to the degree that it convenience, let us say (of course, n.ot to was possible for a muziiik to lose there increase the sale of the liquor), licenses not only his superfluities and his tools, are issued to tavern and restaurant keepers but even his right to a share of village and grocers to sell the government liquor, landeven his profit ou his own labor. the licensees being selected for trustwor- It was in 1895 that M. Witte began the thiness and good repute, and they hay- building of the goverument monopoly ing to sign an agreement that their Ii- scheme by introduciug it in the prov- censes are revokable at the governments inces of Sarnara, Ufa, Perm, and Oren- pleasure. Ia connection witll the scheme burg. Eighteen months later, in July, temperance committees are formed in each 1896, it was extended to Bessarabia, NTol~ province under the leadership of the Gov- hynia, Ekaterinoslav, Kiev, Podolia, Pol- ernor, and in the principal towns under tava, the Taurida, the Black Sea, and Kher- the Marshal of Nobility, to prevent drunk- son provinces. enness and establish attractive tea-shops,to In these places the excise on vodka is wean the people from their taste for liquor abolished, and the government has estab- tea, by-the-way, being the commodity lished central liquor-depots in each p~~ov- which it is said the government means luce, from which supplies are distributed next to monopolize. in sealed bottles and vessels to retail shops Wines, beer, and all other intoxicating set up by the government in the towns beverages, as well as the governments and country districts. The little local vodka, may be sold by licenses under the distilleries, once so numerous arid pros- same terms as the licenses for vodka-sell- pei~ous, are closed, and the drink is sup- ing are given out. plied to the state (by distilleries operated The governments official announce- under government control) in quantities ments; after two years of experimenting THE CZAiRS PEOPLE. 19 with the new law, are to the effect that it is working very satisfactorily. MI. Witte made a tour of ten provinces in eastern and southern Russia where it is in opera- tion, and was confirmed in his plan to ex- tend the scheme all over Russia. It is declared that the better qualities of the liquor and the decrease of drunkenness have produced a reform whose good is already apparent. The unofficial news- papers of the empire do not altogether share this admiring and hopeful view of the new system. They declare that the government got a profit of fifty per cent. on the capital invested in the new enter- prise, and argue that this caine of increased sales of the liquor, in addition to iucreased excise rates, so that it is clear that there is the opposite of a reform in the drink- ing habits of the people. Where the new system has been longest in operation it is asserted that the temper- a mice committees have failed to appropriate suf- ficient momiey to make the tea-shops attractive, arid they are a failure. A serious loss to the un- fortunate small farmer has come from the cbs- Pig of the local distiller- iesabandoned because of the advantages se- cured by the large ones nuder government con- trol. The little distiller- ies afforded convenient markets for the sale of farm products, arid pro- duced a waste that was utilized to feed cattle and enrich the land. A con- siderable decline iii cat- tle-breeding has followed the new systeni, and very small agricultural communities have suf- fered other losses which to them are very severe. The niuzhik is still being bled by the liquor- sellers. Even the gov- erumeli t admits that un - der the new system the licensees, though obliged to sell vodka cheaper than under the old plan, still manage to get more from him than the for- mer price of the liquor by charging for the use of glasses, corkscrews, and what- ever the poor peasants need in cominec- tion with this liquor, and by exacting high prices for the relishes sold at the bars. These evils, being understood, are to be dealt with by law. The mnuzhik, who possesses self or popu- lar government in its purest and simplest form in the management of his village which is all the world to himhas always shown remarkable skill and mrioderatiorr in the use of this right. He has seen his own and his village rights shorn and in- vaded from time to time in ways and to an extent which must have seemed nion- strous; but then, as always, he has proved himself the patiemit, amiable, simple, and docile creature that lie is. He believed, for instance. fromn the beginnings of his nationality that, though he was a chattel A MUZHIK FAMILY. 20 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. spreading education among the masses. Of course this is true, and it is the hostility of the govern- ment to the spread of enlight- enment by schooling, by travel, and by the introduction and multiplication of serious litera- ture,~that renders impossible a valuation of Russias future based upon European compari- sons. For myself, I cannot fore- see the consequence of a long continuation of present Russian methods in Europe, because I cannot begin by conceiving their durability; and yet the Russians tell me that these must be maintained, that the self-interest of those who gov- ern Russia demands the main- tenance of present conditions that with enlightenment must come rebellion, unrest, reforms in the direction of a constitu- tional government and with this latter alone must come the breaking up of this hInge feudal landlords estate. His government bf his vil- A VILLAGE MERCHANTWINTER DREsS. lages suggests the capacity the Russian peasant possesses, sadly rude and undeveloped as it is. of the nobles, yet the land was his irrev- His artels prove that this capacity is ocably. But when serfdom was abol- strong enough for him to govern him- ished the land was partitioned, and the self, which we are taught is a mightier villagers got only a portion, which is now thing than the taking of a city. They seen to be generally less than is actually show that lie can Inake himself indus- necessary for the support of the inliab- trious, honest, thrifty, foresighted, ic- itants, whose numbers have greatly in- sponsible (nearly everything, in fact, that creased. New abuses have crept in, ow- he is notuntil such combination gives in~,, to the InuZhik5 simplicity, his lack of him the chance to redeem himself). The ambition, and the vices of drink, gaming, artelshik is a muzhik revolutionizeda laziness, and aboriginal disregard for the beast of burden in mans guise transform- morrow, so that the nihilist writers de- ed into a full-fledged man, or woman, for dare his present state a~ a freeman a the women make good artelshiks also. worse and more hopeless one than his They are developed out of the familiarity former serfdom. And the calmest men with and training in co-operative man- even in official lifeadmit that the agement which the peasants get in the condition of agriculture is desperately little communes or village governments. bad. With a characteristic rebound into To a certain extent the artels follow the despondency that is a Slav trait, the jour- same line. They are an institution pe- nals which have recovered from their ju- culiar to Russia, and of great interest to bilation over the proposed reform of the all mankind. In a Foreign Office report drinking habits of the people now de- of Great Britain they have recently been dare that there is no hope for reform most carefully studied and explaineda by The government, and that the muzhik task which the Russians have never un- can only be turned from drunkenness by dertaken for themselves. It seems that multiplying the primary schools and an artel is simply a company or associa THE CZARS PEOPLE. 21 tion of peasants for the prosecution of a certain kind of labor or trade in a certain place, or for the perform- ance of a single task. The custom of forming these companies has obtained there since the fourteenth century, though it grew out of a habit of cer- tain Cossacks formed four centuries earlier. These Cossacks were fighters and brigands, who continued their warlike organizations in peaceful times for the division of their labor and of the spoils of hunting and fishing, and for the sale of their war booty and plunder. They carried their trade up the Dnieper, and so taught the boat- men of that river the advantage of forming the artels, which they still maintain. The system is to-day ap- plied to the work of hunting, fishing, farming, mining, banking, custom- house, post-office, and railway work, and there are artels of laborers, me- chanics, porters, factory - hands of many sorts, pilots, bargemen, steve- dores, herders of every, sort of cattle, musicians, beggars, and even horse- thieves. It is impossible to say how many artelshiks, or even artels, there are, because no statistics upon the subject have yet been published. It is certain, however, that in the higher A PEA5ANT GIRL IN NURsEs DREss. fields of labor the institution is vig- orously extending, though in the sim- J)ler relations of unskilled labor the practice of hiring individual muscle in the ordinary way is elbowin~ out the simpler artels of laborers. Until recently the government has practically closed its eyes to the exist- ence of the artels(except as it has employed them in certain works), re- garding them with disfavor as being socialistic institutions, and yet re- fraining from opposing them because they confine their energy to the in- dustrial purposes for which they are formed, and because they undeniably tend to the improvement of the mu- zhik, his work, and his value to the state. The Zemstvos, or provincial assemblage, has exercised whatever little governmental influence over them has been necessary, and there have not been until lately any laws concerning or affecting them. Even now these new statutes mercly record A VILLAGE POLICEMANWINTER nRE55. 22 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. the cases of such elders or head men as are obliged to negotiate for the work of the members. Such a man may not be able to do his share of the labor, and may be entitled to more than an equal share of the profits. All the members are responsible for the work and conduct of each member. In choosing their fellow-members the artelshiks give the preference to rela- tives or members of their own villa~ e or district communities, though in some artels, like those of the fisher- men, the mere possession of the neces- sary tools is sufficient. Age, character, and personal fitness for the work to be engaged in are, however, the usual qualifications, and women are only admitted to the agricultural artels, or those which ave wholly composed of women, like the ones that cultivate tobacco in one of the provinces, and the great grain-handling artel which loads the ships at Archangel. An en- trance fee has to be paid by each newly made member. This varies from 12 cents in the simple agricultural artels to ~OO in the exchange artelsthe chief ones of Russia. There are thirty of these exchange artels in St. Peters- burg alone, some dating from 1714. They have three thousand members. Their business is of two kinds: load- A PRO5PEROU5 PEA5ANT. ing and unloading merchandise from ships, railway cars, or wagons, and the work of clerks and messengers and extend to minor artels the rules gov- in the banks, business houses, and rail- erning the more important ones, the ex- way stations. They are preferred as bank change artels. Nothing more has been messengers and carriers of money, and necessary. The institution is so very are obli~ed to deposit money for securi- old, time has so perfected the simple ty for their honesty. If they steal or regulations and customs governing these lose money; and the amount of security bands of workmen, and the peasants are they have given is not sufficient, the artel themselves so familiar with the system, to which they belong is held responsible and so well suited by character and tem- for the loss. It is the same if an artel- perament to submit themselves to it, that shik damages or loses any article intrust- no interference by legislation has been ed to him. needed. Each artelshik is appointed by the elder When we come to describe these bands of his guild, with whom alone negotiation and their methods and operations we shall for his service must be carried on; but see that once again, as in the case of the self- when there is not work enough for all the government of the villages, this absolute artelshiks in any guild, a n]ember will monarchy offers the strongest contrast to get work for himself as an independent its own main system of government by individual. It of course also happens that tolerating the purest form of socialistic there is sometimes more work th~n an co-operation among its people. artel can perform. Then it goes into the In an artet each member has an equal open market and hires labor, often paying share in the duties and work, and receives more for it than its own members are re- an equal share of the profits, except in ceiving. But it is a fact that the artels THE CZARS PEOPLE. are charged with too often sweating their employds. The carelessness and dishonesty on the part of the hired laborer which naturally follow such a course are so serious that the rail- ways owned by the government are gradually replacing artel labor with labor got in the usual way. I have not gone into the details of the management of the great and old artels, but they are as complete as centuries of experience would natu- rally render them. The system deals justly with the artelshiks and the pub- lic; it provides that no artel can break up while it has a conti-act in hand, that no member can sell his place, that any one may resign and be im- mediately paid his share of the com- mon capital, that a member may be expelled, that if he dies his fellows shall arrange and pay for his funeral and deduct the cost from his share, turning the rest over to his heirsand so on and so forth, throughout a coin- prehensi ye scheme, which includes fines, a division of the funds into re- serve capital, security capital, and working capital, and which arranges for the care of the sick, the aged, and the widowed. Whoever has even a superficial knowledge of the condition of the muzhik knows that in the readjust- ment of his relations to the state under Alexander II. the amount of land allotted to the peasant was not pro- portioned to the larger population that has now come to the country. The rest- less, migratory character uf the peasant is therefore increased by necessity, and in a general way it has come about that only the adults, who are neces- sary to work their land, and who can live on its proceeds, permanently re- main in the villages. The others go off to the great cities to be nurses, cab-driv- ers, artelshiks, and individual laborers or else move in considerable bodies over the face of the country, seeking work upon the large farm-estates, or in those agri- cultural districts which are not well sup- plied with their own labor Thus, espe- cially in the harvest season, the peasant finds chances to bring home a little mon- ey to meet the exactions of the tax-col- lector, the needs of the family, and the payments needed to keep up easy rela- tions with the village merchant, whose 23 bill for vodka is often the heaviest tax the improvident muzhik has to pay for his variety of existence. The scattering of the farm-laborers in search of work is the chief and most curious movement of these people. They migrate in vast num- bers, and not always with either plan or reason, travelling hundreds of miles from their homes to seek a doubtful chance when an assurance of work may be had at a tenth of the distance in another direction. The migration occurs in early spring, and the return journeys are made in late autumn. Since the fares on the railways have been made the cheapest in Europe, and especially since a fourth- class fare has been established, almost especially for these roving laborers, the railway statistics show in actual figures a large fraction of the mass that moves to and fro to gain from the land of others that which they have not land enough of their own to get. A POOR Muzala. 24 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. And here comes the artel again to play hideous nightmare of the winters sleep its part, though of late agricultural artels, of the muzhik. The industries in ques- except for the mere harvesting of heavy tion are the manufacture of shuple in- crops, are rapidly vanishing before the struments, toys. and ornaments of wood methods that obtain in other countries, which were at first very rude and poor But the farm artels do yet exist in great because of the lack of proper tools, hut numbers, and the harvest artels are like- these are being provided by the invest- ly to increase as new ground is broken. ment of private, and even in some cases of Being accnstomed to the selection of a government capital, and the products are starosta, or elder, in each village, and to improving so rapidly that there is reason the partial sharing of responsibility and to au~ur well for this new effort towards the yieldin~ of full obedience at home, the redemption of the peasantry. the wanderers form their artels simply Wherever the artels exist and are pros- and easily on the village model, and work perous they improve the members by giv- under its rules without friction. It is in~ them the advantage of travel, or by towards the end of winter that those allowing them to remain at home occupied, peasants who can be spared from one or and with the ability to get the minor coin- more villa~,es meet and elect their eld- forts of life, by inciting them to industry, er, who goes to the locality where work by stirring within them pride in good has been had before, or where it is rumor- work, by adding responsibility in them- ed to be obtainable, and makes a contract selves and their companions, by softening to deliver the labor of the artel. The their lot, and in a dozen lesser ways shak- entrance fees of the artelshiks suffice to ing them out of the stagnation of mere buy the few and simple tools they need. animal existence. Arteis formed among The pay for the work is usually in farm factory hands have even been known to products, which are sold by the elder at lead to the purchase of a factory by the the market rate. The artelshik used to hands, to the partial payment for a school- return to his village in October, to spend house in another instance, and to such im- the winter in idleness or worse, and this provement in the character of the work is the rule to-day, except as a new sort done in other cases that higher wages and of artels, formed for what are called advancing prosperity have come to both cottage industries, are breaking into the workmen and employer. AND WHO~ S GOING TO SUPPORT EM? DEMANDED MRS. BARKLEY. MISS MAI~TA. I. MISS MARIA WELWOODS house was on Locust Street the street that climbs the hill, and melts into a country road, and then joins the turn- pike over which the stage used to come every day from Mercer. It was such a house as one sees so often in Pennsylva- nia and Maryland stone and brick mostly stone, so that the bricks seemed to be built in in patches, to help out. It stood back from the street, behind a low brick wall that was crumbling here and there where the plaster had fallen out; but the vines heaped on the coping and trailing down almost to the flag-stones of the foot-path outside hid the marks of years and weather, so it never seemed worth while to repair it. In the spring these flag-stones were white with falling blossoms of the plum-trees just inside, and petals from the Pirvsjaponica drift- e(l over and lay among them like little crimson shells; later in the season Per- sian lilacs waved their delicate purple plumes over the head of the passer-by, who could see, for the wall was low, a pleasant old garden at one side of the house. To be sure, it held nothing more choice than old-fashioned perennials, that showed their friendly faces year after yearpeonies, and yellow iris, and the powdery pink of queen-of-the-meadow and between them what annuals might sow themselves, with here and there a low bush of old-maii, or musk, or clove- pink. The house itself was low and ram- bling, and much bigger than Miss Wel- wood neededher family being herself and a cousin, Rose Knight. A nephew. Charles Welwood, lived with her until he was twenty-four, and, for that mat- ter, considering the number of his visits, continued to live with her, now that he MISS MARIA. 27 was thirty. But the nominal household was herself and Rose; a good girl, Old Chester called Rose, sensible, and mod- est, as a girl should be, and not too pret- ty, for that inclines to vanity. As for Miss Weiwood, she had certainly been pretty when she was young; and now that she was over fifty she was like some little ruddy winter apple; there was the touch of frost on her brown hair, but her cheek had a fresh color, and her eyes were bright and smiling; she was little, and had a pretty figure, which she held very erect. Because, she used to ex- plain, when I went to Miss Braces acad- emy, my dear, I was obliged to carry at- lases on my head to make me stand straight. Miss Maria would have liked to p~ut atlases on Roses head; but, alas! Rose did not agree with her; and there it ended, for Miss Maria was one of those people who always want other people to do what they want to do. This charac- teristic does not belong to the reformer, but it is agreeable to live with. Dear Maria Welwood, Old Chester called her except Mrs. Barklcy, who. called her, generally, a perfect fool. Now Mrs. Barkley loved Miss Welwood, that was why she called her a fool; and, besides, she limited this opinion to Miss Maria~ s way of allowing herself to be imposed upon. When you come to think of it, there is nothing which makes us so angry at the people we love as their way of letting themselves be imposed upon. Charles Welwood and his little income of about $300 a year had come to Miss Maria as the legacy of a dying brother, and for twenty-three years she had de- voted herself and her pocket-book to him. When Charles was nearly sixteen, Rose, the orphan daughter of a far-away cous- in, was also left, as it were, on her door- stepprobably on the principle of to im that bath shall be given. And if you dont call that an imposition ! Mrs. Bark- ley said. Shes got those two children on her hands, and it will interfere with her chances of marryingyou see if it doesnt ! Perhaps it did; certainly Miss Maria had not married. There had been a time, when she was about twenty-eight, and Mr. Ezra Barkley, Mrs. Barkleys brother-in-law, came to live in Old Ches- ter, that she may have had hopes; but nothing came of them. Miss Maria be- VOL. xovJJ.Ko. 5773 gan by admiring Mr. Ezra because of his learning; and then his kindness to ev- erything and everybody went to her own kind heart; but, to tell the truth, ex- cept for that kindness, which made him excessively polite to her as well as to everybody else, Mr. Ezra did not notice Miss Maria very much. She used to look at the bac4~ of his head in church, and listen, awe - struck, to his conversa- tion when she came to tea with Mrs. Barkley, and she was apt to take her af- ternoon walk Charles clinging to her hand-down the street by which Mr. Ezra returned from his office. But though Mr. Barkiey offered her a hymn-book once or twice, and bowed with great friendliness whenever they met, and saw her home, with a lantern, and slow, ponderous po- liteness, when she spent the evening with his sister-in-law, she could not, feel that there was anything significant in his attentions, because he offered these same civilities to every lady in Old Ch~s- ter with the same gentility of manner and real kindness of motive. So Miss Maria hid her little, fluttering tenderness in her own heart, where it lay, like a fly in amber, while the placid years came and went. But the memory of .the bur- ied hope was like some faict soft fra- grance in her life. She never forgot it. As for her two young people, when they arrived at those years of indiscretion of Which matrimony is often the outward and visible sign, propinquity suggested that they might marry; but for once it would appear youth was prudent. Nei- ther displayed any tender symptoms. Charles was absorbed in making water- color sketches, in the hope that he might one day be an artist, and had no time, he had been heard to say, contemptuously, for sentimentality. As for Rose, she had never taken to Charles, Miss Maria used to admit, sadly; besides, all such possibil- ities ended when Charles, at twenty-four, still dependent on his aunt, save for his $300, married, suddenly, a nice, ineffi- cient, sickly girl, without a cent, who promptly presented him with twins. And whos going to support em? de- manded Mrs. Barkley. I declare-twins! But you cant blame dear Charles for that, Miss Maria protested. Not blame Charles? Well, Id like to know Mrs. Barkley began; but ended by telling Miss Maria again that she was 28 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. a perfect fool about that boy. Youve always spoiled him, and you always will ! Miss Welwood had spoiled Charles, ac- cording to Old Chester rules; and yet, he really was the one child to whom the spare the rod precept did not apply he was naturally good. Unnaturally good might be a better term. If he had died young (as Miss Maria always feared he would) he might have bad a memoir written about him,which would have been put in all the Sunday-school libraries; for in those days the an~mic child was a great part of spiritual literature. He had a sort of angelic beauty when he was five or six, with his pink cheeks, his large blue eyes, and his yellow hair that every after- noon was curled up into a long, sleek roll, and tied with a blue ribbon; he looked good, and he was fond of hymns, and used to say things about Heaven that brought tears to your eyes. Dr. Laven- dar once compared him to little Samuel, and said he was a godly child. After- wards, Dr. Lavendar may have apologized to Samuel-though Charles never was a naughty boy. He never robbed birds nests, or smoked behind the barn, or play- ed marbles on Sunday. Perhaps that was why Dr. Lavendar was apologetic. But be that as it may, he kept on being good in spite of prophecies that a child who had never been tied to a bedpost, or sent supperless to bed, must turn out badly. He was a good young man, too; and by-and-by he was a good husband, and a betteror at least a more extensive father every year ; for xvhen he was thirty, he and his poor foolish wife had themselves and five children to look after. The way in which Charles looked after them was to bring them, whenever things were going badly with him, to Old Ches- ter to visit Miss Maria. But never mind that: he certainly did do everything a mortal husband could for his sickly Edith, and he loved each of the five babies dear- ly, and was ready and willing to love five more, if the Lord sent them to himfor Charles was a religious man, and believed that the Lord was responsible for bring- ing into the world all these delicate little children, whose father could not support them. He had also a sincere affection for his aunt, and meant it in all simplicity when he told her that it was very sweet to him to take favors from her hands. Why dont you tell him, demanded Mrs. Barkley, when Miss Maria repeated this to her why dont you tell Charles Welwood that it would be very sweet to you to take favors from his hands? The color came into Miss Welwoods face, but she only said, mildly, You never did appreciate Charles. Oh, I appreciate him, Mrs. Barkley said, grimly. Mrs. Barkley sat straight up in her chair darning stockings; she was a little woman, with a thin, melancholy face, and a very high crown to her head. Her hair, which was still brown, was part- ed in the middle, or a little to one side of the middle, and brought down over her cheeks in loops and then twisted up be- hind her ears. She had very bushy eye- brows, which twitched when she talked, in a way that, being coupled with a deep and masculine voice, inspired her listener with a sort of alarmed respect. Now, Maria,~~ she went on, this is the sixth time he has come to stay with you since he was mar- ried; and those children Bless their little hearts, said Miss Maria, they are such pretty children ! Theyre well enough. I only hope you wont spoil them as you did their father. Well, he is very unselfish, Matty, anyhow, Miss Maria defended him, and amiable; never a word of complaint! There are not many men who would not rebel at having a sick wife on their hands. Maybe their aunts might rebel, Mrs. Barkley said. I think it was noble in Charles to marry Edith to take care of her, cried Miss Welwood. Then why doesnt he take care of her? And look at all those children; he is perfectly delighted with this last one I Well, I should hope so! said Miss Maria,with spirit. Matty, how can you pretend to be so heartless? Would you have a parent indifferent to his off- spring? Indifferent? cried Mrs. Barkley,with a snort. What do you call bringin~ five children into the world, just to starve em? I call it something worse than in- difference. Miss Welwood held up her hands, hoi~- rifled. My dear Matty, I cant think that is quite delicate. If they were kittens, lie could drown em. As it is, he just gives them to you. MISS MARIA. 29 My dear Matty ! said poor Miss Wel- wood again. She said to herself that some time she would certainly ]ose her temper with Matilda Barkley. Theres no use getting into a passion, Maria. Im only speaking the truth. You ki~ow I am always perfectly open with you. You seem to like being im- posed upon; I suppose thats why you are supporting Charless familythough my opinion is that a man hasnt any business to have a family if he cant support it. He is worse than an infidel--- Matty Thats the Bible. I suppose I may quote the Scriptures? Miss Welwood sighed. Mrs. Barkley pushed her spectacles up on the bridge of her nose, and said, Hows Rose? Why, said Miss Maria, shes very well, the dear child After that there was peace, for Mrs. Barkley liked Rose as much as she dis- liked Charles, and she listened with a grim chuckle when Miss Maria told her that Rose had done this or thatput up ten quarts of strawberries, or made over her best dress so that it would do for an- other season. She wont let me buy her a new one, said Miss Maria such an obstinate child ! Pity Charles hasnt a little of her ob- stinacy, Mrs. Barkley couldnt help say- ing. Which was a mistake, for it made Miss Welwood go home, and Mrs. Bark- ley had to sit all by herself until tea-time, fuming at the way Maria Welwood was imposed upon. II. Mr. Ezra Barkley was a fat, placid man, rather bald, with that look of aged youth which is so confusing. He might have been fifty or thirty with equal probabili- ty; in peint of fact, he was nearly fifty. He was a good deal of a dandy; and though not exactly worldly, was supposed to have rationalistic tendencies-believ- ing, it was said, that the world had been created in six periods of time instead of six days. Thus the awful interest of the freethinker was attached to him, and it was known that Mrs. Barkley made his conversion a subject for special prayer. Perhaps Miss Welwood prayed for him too; but she never said so. Mr. Barkleys deplorable rationalism was the outcome, his sister-in-law thought, of his learning, and she was apt to re- mind him, in a sad bass, that the wisdom of men was foolishness with their Crea- tor. His wisdom, it must be admitted, was almost entirely confined to statistics; but that did not shake Old Chesters be- lief that he was a learned man. He had a slow amiability which impatient persons called stupidity; and his kind- ness to animals was proverbial. But the best thing about Mr. Ezra Barkley was that he knew how to listen. Indeed, he had a genius for listening. Now there are few things that are more endearing than the grace of listening with attention. The man who permits us to dogmatize or rhapsodize, with.a nod or murmur at the right place, has in him the material for friendship; indeed, my own belief is that matrimony itself would be deprived of half its dangers if one party to it would cultivate the art of listening. As for Ezra Barkley, he listened to his sister-in-law and never interrupted; when he did speak, it was generally to give some small, quite irrelevant piece of information of a statistical nature; but he expressed no opinions of his own. This had led Mrs. Barkley, in the course of years, to the conclusion that he had no opinions. But that was her mistake. What do you suppose, Mrs. Barkley demanded the evening of the day that she had been so candid with Miss Maria what do you suppose, Ezra? That boy Charles has put every cent of his money into some patent oil-can! I only hope he wont induce Maria to put hers into it. I know shes giving him money to live on nowhe hasnt anything to do. How different he is from Rose! She is so sen- sible and industrious. Mr. Ezra Barkley crossed his legs, as one who would assent, comfortably. Well, Maria said that Charles said it troubled him dreadfully to be dependent on her even for a little while; and then, if you please, she said that nobody was more sensitive in such things than Charles was. I told her I was glad to hear it very glad indeed to hear it ! said Mrs. Barkley, in a dreadful bass. Ezra rose and went over to a large wicker cage which held some of his pets; he opened the door and took out two little green paroquets, and, balancing one on each forefinger, lie came back to his arm- chair. He expressed no opinion concern- ing Charless dependence upon his aunt. He seemed absorbed in scratching the head of one of the little parrots, which 30 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. uttered small, shrill cries of approval; but he was listening. And then what do you suppose she said? She said that it was very difficult for the artistic temperament to consider earning money. I just said, Maria Wel- wood, the artistic temperament is another name for dishonesty! (You know, Ezra, I make a point of being perfectly open with Maria.) There is too much of this genius tl)at doesnt pay its debts, or lets its female relations support it, I said. And just think of all those children, Ezra I Ezra shook his head in melancholy as- sent. Are you aware, he said, that the word lullaby your reference to Charless family suggests the fact the word lullaby is thou~ht to be derived from the name of Adams first wifeLili Abi? She was said to be queen of the succubmdevils who had taken the female form. I told her, Mrs. Barkley continued, as though Mr. Ezra had not spoken, I just wished Charles had half the spirit Rose has! Ezra watched the paroquets climbing up his leg, heels over head, so to speak, for the little creatures, grasping at his trousers with beak and claw, lifted them- selves up and up until they gained his welcoming hand and were fed with small crumbs of sugar. Rose is a superior girl, Ezra, Mrs. Barkley announced, in the tone of one who dares a contradiction. Mr. Barkley scratched one of the little green heads too hard, and the bird bit at him angrily. But she is an expense to Maria, Mrs. Barkley went on, and I wish I wish she had a home of her own, Ezra. She converses somewhat rapidly, observed Mr. Ezra; at times I find it difficult to__ To follow her? Oh, well, one would get used to that. to apprehend her. Nevertheless, she is a very pleasing young lady. With this Mr. Ezra Barkley put the parrots back in their cage. Now Mr. Barkley could put two and two together as well as anybody else: Rose was a superior girl; he was an unmarried man. He had listened to Mrs. Barkley too many years to doubt either of these proposi- tionsor the obvious deduction; but he still continued to listen, and stroke his parrots heads, and look blind. On this particular evening, however he was really interested in what his sister- in-law said of Miss Welwood and Charles. The fact was Ezra Barkley knew that Miss Maria believed in that oil-can to such an extent that she wanted to put every bit of her money into her nephews hands, that he might invest it for her and they might both grow rich together. She had met him only the day before, and had told him of Charless project. She was to contribute the money to start the en- terprise, she said, and Charles was to con- tribute time, and they were to divide the profits. That she was getting the best of the bargain she never doubted. Charles says he is going to divide all the profit with me, she said; but of course I shant allow that! At least Ill leave it all back again to those precious children. But suppose he does not acquire this, as you might say, fortune? Mr. Barkley inquired. If you will permit me to say so, Miss Maria, I cannot but feelali anxious. But Miss Welwoods confidence could not be shaken. If there was any doubt about it, my darling boy wouldnt want me to invest my money in it, you know. Mr. Ezra said nothing, and Miss Maria felt she had silenced him by her logic, but she hoped she had not hurt his feel- ings. He certainly did not look wound- ed; he bowed politely, and asked her if she had any idea how many eggs there were in a shad roe. She said, with imme- diate interest, she supposed quite a num- ber over two hundred, perhaps ; and when Mr. Barkley gave what he called the approximate number, she threw up her hands in the greatest astonishment, and said: Dear me! You dont say so! You have so much information, Mr. Ezra. Later in the evening Miss Maria re- peated what she had learned concerning shad roe to Rose, and added that it was very improving to talk with Mr. Barkley. Im sure it must be, Rose said,grave- ly, but its very serious to think of cat- ting so many little fish at a time. Miss Welwood looked at her young cousin sidewise; it seemed to her Rose was making fun of Mr. Barkley. Well, there is nobody so kind as Mr. Ezra, anyhow, she said, with spirit; and I only wish I knew half as much as he does! And then Miss Maria be- MISS MARIA. 31 gall to talk about the oil-can and her fu- ture xvealth( for I wont have Ezra laughed at, she said to herself). As for the oil-can, Miss Weiwood had made up her mind to put almost half of her little capital into Charless hands. The fact was, her nephews enthusiasm about the oil-can was as sincerely hope- ful as though he had been the inventor, instead of merely the promoter. Why, he said, his big visionary blue eves shining with excitement, there is absolutely no doubt. It cant fail. It simply cant. Why, just see: the coun- try population of the United States is, well, say so much: now supposing there are nine souls to a familywell, say ten its easier to divide by ten, and its bet- ter to be on the safe side; though, of course, there are a great many families where there are only five-or even two, like you and Rose. But its more con- servative to say ten souls to a family: you see at once how many families there are? And every family must have an oil- can ? cried Miss Maria. Ali! but wait, Charles said. Thats the country population. Now the num- ber of viliage.s in the United States where they dont have gas You see what I am trying to get at? Why, of course ! his aunt said. Why, here is Old Chester, for instance: Im sure Matty would take two. We must give one to Dr. Lavendar. Charles; he mustnt buy it. Charles, proceeding with his calcula- tion, did not stop to think of the profit on Mrs. Barkleys purchase. We can reckon certainly on such and such a number to be sold in small villages, to say nothing of the poor people in cities. Cant we have some cheaper for the poor? Miss Maria asked, sympathetically. But Charles would not stop to answer questions. You see, he said, its per fectly easy to figure the profits Edith was so excited that she began to laugh hysterically, and Miss Maria caught up the youngest from the floor, and cud- dled him, and kissed him, and bade him go to sleep: And when you awake, You shall have a cake, And a coach and six little horses sung Miss Maria, because we are all going to be rich, you precious little Theodore ! And the fifth, being so named because he was, Charles said, a gift from God, cooed and gurgled, and everybody was very happy. Except Rose. Rose had shown no in- clination to trust the oil-can; not because she had any superior wisdom, but just be- cause Charles advocated it. But never mind, my darling child, Miss Maria said; when my profit comes inCharles says it will be certainly ten times what I investI will give half of it to you! No, Rose declared, gayly, Im not going to have any oil-can money. Im going to wait until Miss Bailey gets mar- ried, and then Im going to have her school; and you and Charles and Edith can live in a palace, and not burn gas, so you can have an oil - can in every room. Oh, Rose wont believe in any of my projects, Charles said, much wound- ed. Rose thinks, Edith, that we ought to stay in the tavern, instead of visiting Aunt Maria. Oh, now, my dear Charles, protested poor Miss Welwood, putting the gift of God down on the floor my dear chil- dren, please Well, Charles, I must say, Rose re- torted, I dont see how you can be un- der such obligations to Cousin Maria. Oh, my dear Rose, sighed Miss Wel- wood, please Edith, as usual, began to weep. Charlie always paints a picture for aunty when weve been making her a visit, she de- fended her husband. It is very sweet to me to owe every- thing to aunty, Charles said, stung and helpless. Where one loves, one can ac- cept. Well, you must love a good deal, Rose flung out. I do, Charles declared. And just let me say, Rose, that it is the little nature that is afraid of an obligation. Aunt Maria has made me what I am; I admit itI am proud to admit it. And when the money comes in, it shall all be hers. Oh, but Charlie, Edith whimpered, shant we have a little? At which there were tears and protests and explanations, and Rose went whirl- ing out of the room, angry and ashamed, her young heart bursting with the sense of her own dependence. 32 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. III. It was in February that these dreams of affluence first began to dazzle Miss Marias eyes; and they grew more daz- zling as the spring went on. Charles had gone back to Mercer, so that he might be on the spot, to look after the family interests, and Edith had been sent South to escape the March winds. As Charles had pointed out, the expense of her jour- ney would be covered ten times over when the first dividend came in. When Miss Maria repeated this to Rose, the girl droppedi down upon her knees beside the little, trim, upright figure, and hugged her. And in the mean time you pay her expenses? she said. That has nothing to do with it, said Miss Maria, affronted. It strikes me that it has a great deal to do with it, Rose retorted. Cousin Maria, what should you do ifif the oil- can exploded? Oh, it is to be very strong, Miss Welwood explained. And then Rose explained: I meant if it failed, dear? Oh, Charles says it cant fail ! Miss Maria declared, cheerfully. Charles says its absolutely sure. But ifif? Rose persisted, patting Miss Marias hand, and putting it up against her cheek. Nonsense! cried the other, and then bade Rose move back a little from the fire. Its bad for your complexion to scorch your cheeks, my dear. When I was young, we were never allowed to come nearer the fire than the outside edge of the hearth-rug. Is that the reason your complexion is so pretty? said Rose. And Miss Maria said Nonsense! again, and blushed, and said that once Mr. Ezra Barkley had paid her a compli- ment on her color. He was remark- ing upon the number of tons of roses used every year, and he said something about my cheeks. Of course he said it in a very polite and genteel way. Why, Cousin Maria ! cried Rose. Well! When is it to be? Pie, fie! protested Miss Maria. At Miss Braces, Rose, we were always told that jests upon the affections were indel- icate. Not that you meant it so, my dar- ling, of course. The question is, what does Mr. Ezra mean? said Rose. I shall certainly ask him his intentions. Miss Welwood gasped with dismay. Miss Brace used to say that any allu- sion to matters of the heart was exceed- ingly unladylike, she declared; but she half sighed. Hes always very kind, Rose, but he has never thought of such a thing. He is too superior forfor such things. I think learned men are apt to be. It seemed as though her fresh face fell into lines of. age, and Rose, looking at her, felt a sudden pang of pity. Lets talk about the oil-can, she said; and Miss Welwood was ready and eager for the subject. Indeed, as the spring went, Miss Wel- wood talked of little else. Her confi- dence grew with the season; in May she was eager to give Charles still another thousand dollars for the enterprise, which needed pushing, the profits being, Charles said, merely a matter of propor- tion. The more you push, the more youll get, he said. Its self-evident. Why, of course I said his aunt. I think, Charles, Ill put in two thousand instead of one; it seems foolish to simply cut off future profits because of a little present inconvenience. Thats perfectly true, he told her, admiringly, but there are very few wo- men who would have the business keen- ness to see it. Still, dear, you must be your own judge. I consider you quite as good a judge in business matters as I am, and I wouldnt urge you for the world. Do you hear that, Rose? cried Miss Maria. Charles says he considers me as good a judge in business matters as he is (of course Im not); but what do you think of that? I think that Charles is quite right, Rose said, dryly. However, the two thousand dollars was given, and still another two. By this time more than three - quarters of Miss Marias eggs were in one basketfrom which, indeed, no chickens had yet been hatched; hence the present inconven- ience became very obvious, not only to Miss Maria and Rose, but to Mrs. Bark- heyand consequently to Mr. Erza, who played with the paroquets, and listened, and at last gratified Mrs. Barkley by nod- ding silently when she observed that if MISS MARIA. 33 Rose were married, things would be easier for Maria. They were sitting iii the grape-arbor, with a little table between them; it was just after dinner on Sunday, and, as was Mrs. Barkleys habit when the weather permitted, the coffee had been brought out to this shady place, and now it was being stirred and sipped, and the sermon discussed. A little later, when the sun should burn through the leaves and look in at the western end of the arbor, Mrs. Barkley would grow drowsy, and pick up her religious paper, and go off to take a nap; but just now she was alert. She had said what she thought of Dr. Laven- dars sermon, and added that he was plain- ly failing; then remarked, significantly, that he was, however, still able to edify and instruct upon matters of doctrine. Then she said that she declared it was too bad, Maria Welwood hadnt got a new bonnet yet! I dont know where this is going to end, said Mrs. Barkley. Maria is re- ally pinched for money. Rose is a good, economical girl, but she does eat, and she has to have clothes. Mrs. Bark-, leys eyebrows twitched, and she looked at her brother-in-law with anxiety. Ezra took off his glasses and examined them; then he rubbed the bridge of his nose thoughtfully. Were you aware Matilda, that glass was discovered by the accident of No I wasnt. Now, Ezra,. Im al- ways perfectly open with you, so Im go- ing to give you some advice. I never shrink from giving advice. Some people do. I once heard Dr. Lavendar with my own ears say he did not like to advise people. He said he always hoped they would do the other thing which was very foolish in him, for why shouldnt he advise the other thing, to begin with? Well, well, hes getting old. However, I only wanted to say that you are really getting on in years yourself; andand Rose Knight is certainly a superior girl. A very superior girl, Eira ! Ezra breathed on his glasses and pol- ished them with his handkerchief, and then held them up to see if they were bright. Shes twenty-five. I call that just the right age for a man of fifty, Ezra; and shes a good, capable girl, and she has about as much religion as you like. (Dear me, Ezrayou know my prayer for you in that regard?) Ezra coughed. I mean, she isnt like Grace Smith, running to church all the time, when she ought to be at home looking after things. You may be interested to know, said Mr. Ezra, mildly, that the scientific re- searches of Bishop Colenso prove that the children of Israel could not have Ezra! said Mrs. Barkley, with proper indignation, not in my presence, if you please! I avoid profane and vain bab- blings, and oppositions of science falsely so called! (Youll find that somewhere in 1st Timothy, Ezra; I advise you to look it up.) But to go back to Rose: Maria has brought her up to have the greatest respect for you; Ive heard her myself tell Rose that your conversation was most improving. Mr. Ezra was plainly gratified, though he pooh-poohed the compliment. I fear that I can scarcely hope that my conver- sation would be of interest to so bright a young lady as Miss Rose. Fiddlesticks ! said Mrs. Barkley. Of course it is. What you said at breakfast to-day about chairs being used in Egypt 3300 before Christ would in- terest any young person who is quick to learn, as Rose is. No, Ezra; Rose is all I could expect to find in any girl out of our own family. And if she were married, Maria could live with herat least until she gets back that oil-can mon- ey that that Charles has stolen! I call it stolen. I told Rose so frankly. Im per- fectly open with Rose about Charles. Mr. Ezra recalled, silently, the reply that he had heard Miss Rose make to this remark As for getting back the money for the oil-can, Im afraid she cant! And then Rose had flung up her head, and lauglcred, and showed all her white teeth, and Mr. Ezra believed that there was a joke somewhere. But just now his heart was heavy at the thought of Miss Marias troubles. Do you apprehend, he said, labo- riously, that Miss Welwoods circum- stances are really, as you might say, strait- ened ? I know they are! his sister-in-law said, her eyebrows twitching. Ezra, shes sent away Jane. You know Jane s been with them sincewhy, its seventeen years if its a day !and shes had-to send her away, and she and Rose (good, capable girl !) do the work. And Maria looks worn out, said Mrs. Barkley, nearly crying, 34 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. and its all that Charles! Somebody ought to do something. Of course we cant give Maria money; she wouldnt take anybody elses money, though she thinks its all right for that boy Charles to take hers! But then she likes to be im- posed upon. Oh dear! Well, she is a perfect fool. Ive told her so. Well, Ezra, Im going up stairs to lie down. But just remember, Rose is a superior girl. Its queer no man has had sense enough to take her. But men havent any sense ended Mrs. Barkley, with a snort. As for Ezra, he went and got his cat, and settled back in his chair, rubbing pussys ears with an absent hand, and re- flecting. It was warm and still in the arbor; a honeysuckle swaying in some warm, wandering breath of wind threw a lacing shadow over the pool of sunshine that, at the western end, began to widen over the uneven flags. Well, said Ezra Barkley to himself, it is certainly very distressingvery distressing ; and after a while he added that it certainly would be very pleasing to have an agreeable young person in the house. And so Miss Maria had brought her up to have a great respect for him? The thought increased his respect for Miss Maria. It occurred to him that if Rose liked facts, he could certainly interest her. He decided to make researches in the line of ladies clothing: he would tell her when gloves were introduced into England; he would divert her with the height of the head-dress in the fifteenth century; and he was sure she would be astonished to learn that boots with point- ed toes had been thought, in the Middle Ages, to be obnoxious to the Deity, call- ing down His wrath in the form of the pestilence of the black deatli. Yes, it would be very agreeable to have a bright young creature eager to listen to his facts. Poor Miss Maria! she was anxious no doubt, and was worrying over money matters. Ladies ought not to have such anxieties, thought Mr. Ezra. Poor lady! Wellit is very hard. Young Charless conduct is certainly reprehensi- ble. But something must be donesome- thing must be done. His eyes narrow- ed with thought, and he sighed once or twice. He scratched the cat under her chin, which caused her to shut her eves and wave her tail and purr loudly. The pool of sunshine widened to his feet; the arbor was hot and still, and the heavy fragrance of the tall white lilies crept like some tangible sweetness into the shadows under the grape leaves. Mr. Ezra nodded a little, his hand sunk into the soft warm fur, and he and the kitten slept soundly. The summer passed, and still Miss Maria did not get a new bonnet. In-~ deed, the tin~e of new bonnets seemed postponed and still postponed. How- ever, four of Charless children came to pay her a visit, as, in the business anxiety of the last month, Charles had felt un- equal to the care of them; and Edith was preparing for another gift from God, and so really could not ( and should not, Miss Maria said) have the burden of her entire household on her shoulders. It was while they were with her that the oil- can exploded, to use Roses metaphor. When their fathers letter came bring- ing news of the catastrophe, there came also a little package ( Charles never forgets these darling children ! said Miss Maria) a doll for small Edith, a book for one boy, a transparent slate for the other, a rattle for Theodore. The distri- bution of these gifts delayed the reading of the letter with its big engraved heading, The Universal Oil-Can Co. The chil- dren had been painting: it was a rainy afternoon, and Miss Maria had rummaged in the garret among the possessions of her youth, and brought down her old paint- box, and the four little people had been very happy over it. Dear me! dont we all know those old paint-boxes of our maiden auntswith cakes of dried and flaked water -colors, rubbed down, some of them, side-wise, or with holes worn through them by pointed feminine brush- esand the saucers, with their cracked films of crimson lake or gamboge still clinging to them! I used to paint when I was a young lady, Miss Maria said; I studied the Berthollet method at Miss Braces. Dear me! Im afraid Ive forgotten a great many dii ngs we learn~d at Miss Braces. We used to have a class in making alum bas- kets, and we painted on velvet. It was certainly very elegant. 1 dont believe there are such schools nowadays. My paints are nearly worn out, but these pre- cious children wont mind thatwill you, my darlings? The children did not mind in the least; so they were all put down around the MISS MARIA. 35 table in the dining-room, each one with an old magazine full of wood-cuts, which gave great choice as to the subject to be colored. Small Edith, however, had been so enterprising as to possess herself of an old album, and with sacrilegious hand daubed at faded photographs of aunts in enormous hoop-skirts, and uncles in urn- form with baggy trousers. This had just been discovered with grief by Miss Maria, when Charless letter and the package of presents arrived. At the mention of presents the four artists, greatly excited, slipped from their chairs, leaving the wood-cuts of Little Dorrit half finished, and their brushes standing in dauby tumblers of colored water. Rose, on her knees among them, looked at the dollys shoes and drew on the transparent slate, and promised to read the book aloud, all the while raging at the tender father who bought presents out of Miss Marias money (and yet he was a tender fathernobody could possibly deny that). Miss Maria smiling at the childrens joy, and cuddling Theodore, read the letter with a startled look that changed into absolute bewilder- ment: The enterprise had failed; Charles was bankrupt; the money was losther money (and Charless time as well). She read with Theodore clinging about her neck, and she had to stop and kiss him, and listen to his rattle, and cuddle him, yet her bewildered eye followed Charless bQld handwriting with dreadful clear- ness. Rose, she said, tremulously, Im afraid its bad news, my dear. Of course then it had to be read aloud to Rose. This was a terrible taskRose kneeling on the hearth-rug, playing with Charless children, and saying not one word ; but Miss Maria saw the girls cheek grow rigid over her set teeth, and little Edith shrunk away from her, fright- ened at the anger in her eyes. ~Of course, Rose, my darling, the old cousin said, timidly, it is serious, but Yes, its serious, Rose said, grimly. She put the eldest boy down from her knee; there was a sort of repugnance in the very way sL~ touched the child that made her, an instant afterwards, catch him in her arms and kiss him, ashamed of herself. The children, squabbling joy- ously over their possessions, felt the sud- den cloud, and looked up, wondering. Of course its serious ; but never VOL. xcYlJ.No. 5774 mind, my dear, Miss Maria said; well get along. Then, her hands shaking, she opened the letter again and tried to take in the facts : an infringement ; a miscalculation as to the amount of alloy in the metal, necessitating a much higher price than had been reckoned; the plant now almost worthless; unfortunate litiga- tion necessary. Possibly, only possibly but we must leave no stone unturn- ed, Charles said, courageously ;possi- bly a little more money might set the thing on its feet. ( But I havent any more said Miss Maria to herself.) How- ever, that it was the Lords doing Charles had no doubt. Dear boy! what a les- son he is to me ! said Miss Maria, her eyes full of tears. What should I do if he were rebellious, or did not put his trust in his Heavenly Father? The submission in her face silenced Roses bitter tongue. The girl squeezed her hands together, and did not open her lips. He bears it so beautifully, said Miss Maria, wiping her eyes. Did you notice, Rose, on the third page, where he says let me see, here it is: but we know the Lord will provide? Dear, precious boy! What an example he is ! What kind of an example? Rose said, curtly; and then burst out crying, and knelt down at Miss Marias side, and put her arms around her waist, and asked to be forgiven. Youre an example! I wish I were a quarter as good. As for Miss Maria, she was afraid she had been harsh, and kissed Roses brown head, and said: Come, come ! Never mind; it will all be right I But Rose could not hold her tongue. Charles meant well, Isuppose, Cousin Maria; but it isnt enough in this world just to mean well. I hate him! How could lie let you suffer? And then Miss Maria had to scold her again, and then apologize again, and then bid her cheer up and look after those precious children. After that she went lip stairs, leaving the children to Rose and their toys, and sat down on a big chintz- covered chair beside her bed. She want- ed to be alone and get her breath. It was growing dusk, and the vines grew so close about the windows, drooping even in a green fringe from the lintels, that the room was darktoo dark to read again the bleak facts of Charless letter, or the words of sacred comfort that she had known and lived on these many HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 36 years long enough before Mr. Charles Weiwood had adopted them as his own. I havent any more money; and what are we goin~ to do? she said to herself, in despair. And then she remembered what her nephew had said. Yes, He will provide ; these darling children are His, said Miss Maria, and got up in the darkness, and knelt down beside her big four-poster, and hid her face on the soft lavender-scented pillow. When she got up, rather stiffly, for she had knelt there a lone time, she wiped her eyes, and went smiling down stairs to the children and Rose. My darling Rose, she said, of course its unfortunate. But it isnt the worst thing in the world. Suppose some of you were dangerously sick Would I think of mere money then? No, indeed! Well get along nicely ; andand we mustnt let Charles know how serious it is; he would feel so badly. Besides, it isnt so very bad, so never mind! Now dont lets talk about it any more. These precious children must have their supper and play with these nice presents their dear father has sent them, and have a happy time. When theyve gone to bed, well talk it all over. V. At first Miss Maria shut the apphlling fact that she xvas penniless in upon her- self and Rose. Charles came flying down to Old Chester to explain and to protest at fate. He made no excuses; why should he? He too had lost everything he pos- sessed, although a new baby came just at that nioment to comfort hima new baby that was to be called Maria. He had lost all he had in the world, so he certainly was not to be blamed, he told his Edith; besides, as she would remem- ber, he had distinctly said he would not urge his aunt Maria to invest. It was her own jud~ment, you know, Edith, said Charles; I really cant feel myself responsible. Charles was in hopes of getting a place as a clerk in a railroad office. But be- foi~e going to work he came (on borrowed money) to condole with his aunt and to advise. He felt that it might be well, he told her, for her to mortgage her house and invest the money, living on the in- terest, less the interest on the mortgage. Im sure I could get ten per cent. for you on some perfectly conservative stock. But mightnt there be a little risk, dear Charles ? Miss Maria objected, mild- ly. Not that I dont trust your judgment absolutely, she added, quickly, for she thought he looked hurt. But what are you going to live on? Charles faltered, his blue eyes staring at her in dismay; what are you going to do? Alas! how many times had Miss Wel- wood asked herself that very question, her gentle heart sinking lower and lower at the blank reply of silence in her own mind. She did not consult any one, but she spent a good deal of time on her knees beside her big high bedstead; and of late she thought a glimmer of light had fallen on the subject. Youve got to have something to live on, Charles repeated, in a bewildered way. Well I have an idea, she said. No I am not going to tell you; it shall be a surprise. But Im sure its going to be a good thing. She had told Rose her idea; she had to tell her, for the girl had been in a frenzy of anxiety to do something; anything, Rose said, and meant it,for she had a very determined plan of going to Mercer to get a place in a shop. Theres no- thing in Old Chester for a girl to do, Rose said, impatient, and loving, and raging at poor well-meaning Charles. It was to prevent this Mercer project that Miss Maria confided her idea. For you can help me, my darling, she told the girl; indeed, I couldnt do it without youyou are so much fresher in some of the things than I am. For instance, Rose, what is the length of the Amazon River? Im ashamed to say Ive forgotten. And then she explained her plan. Miss Maria had hoped, at first, to keep the knowledge of the catastrophe to her- self, thinking in some irrational, tender, feminine way that if she gave no reason for her project of self - support, Charles would not be connected with it, and so would not be blamed. But of course the disaster had to be known. By its very nature an oil-can does not explode in the dark. In a week Old Chester knew that Miss Maria Welwood had lost almost all her money, for there had been an after- clap in the maturing of a note which, as a matter of form, she had endorsed for the Oil-Can Company. But whats she going to live on? MISS MARIA. 37 Old Chester said, with a gasp of dismay. was no more than a slipper-bag, which, What on earth is she goings to live on? before this grim fact of poverty had taken What is she going to do? possession of her thoughts, she had made It was poor Miss Marias question over for her friend; since then she had been again: What am I going to do to earn so anxious and confused she had forgot- my living? Now this question, asked ten topresent it. by the suddenly impecunious, middle- I promised it to you a month ago, aged, unmarried woman, is ghastly; it she said, and I am ashamed to say I was especially so in a place like Old forgot to bring it over, Matty; but here Chester, where the demand for women it is now. in the industries was unknown. It is a You neednt apologize, said Mrs. wretched enough question even in the Barkley. Ive lived all my life with- great busy world, where there is so much out a slipper-bag; I guess a week or two to be done, but where, alas! this fright- more wont hurt me. Besides, I dont ened feminine voice is lifted up in such wear slippers. Still, Im obliged to you. a gathering chorus. No one can quite Ive had so much on my mind, said understand the misery, the sick hopeless- Miss Maria, nervously; and then con- ness of the inquiry but the woman her- fessed. self. She begins by reckoning up her Poor Mrs. Barkley! She was so angry abilities: She can sew; yes, but who and so wretched that, for once, she could wants her sewin~,? Nobody! She can not speak; so Miss Welwood got in her keep house, in a small way; yes, but for explanations and intentions almost with- one such position a hundred applicants out interruption. She and Rose were are already entreating youn~,er, clev- going to support themselves by teaching. erer, better-looking, perhaps. Nursing; Then it was that Mrs. Barkley called her yes, in the tender, ignorant, old - fash a fool. ioned way. But see the crowd of women In the first place, all the children go educated in the science and business of to Miss Baileys, or else to the public caring for the sick: who will take her, school, she said, with two little hot tears when a dozen trained nurses are ready at trickling down her nose. I wish Charles every doctors elbow? Teaching? Yes; Welwood had to go out and break stones! but come now, can you or I, at fifty, re- But youll see that he has his trips South, member the multiplication table? And and all his children dressed inin gold, contrast the curriculum of the private said Mrs. Barkley, in a flight of angry school to-day with that which prevailed and terrified fancy, but you, you poor fifty or sixty years ago! No; we mid- dear Maria and then Mrs. Barkley die-aged folk have the education of life, snorted, and wiped her eyes on the slip- truly; we know the multiplication table per-bag, and observed that, for her part, of anxieties and sorrows, the subtraction she never could waste her time making table of loss, the division table of respon- things like that! Miss Maria came and put sibility. Deportment and religion we her arms about her neck and kissed her. might, perhaps, impart; but who is ready, Oh, Matty, she said, what should I at a moments notice, to instruct eager do without you? I do thank my Heaven- and irreverent youth indear me! what ly Father that Ive got such a friend ! does not youth study nowadays? Yet it Well, then, retorted Mrs. Barkley, was to teaching that Miss Maria Welwood be guided by me. Come and live here. looked to provide bread for herself, and It will be a blessing to me. The greatest bread and butter for Rose, and bread and blessing. Maria, I shall think it all prov- butter and jam for Charless children. idential if youll only come. Theres nothing else I can do, Mat- Matty, said the other, the tears run- ty, she pleaded to Mrs. Barkley, who sat ning over her cheeks, its worth while snorting with anger and misery. to be poor! But I couldnt come here; Maria, said Mrs. Barkley, her eye- no, dear Matty, no; you must not urge brows twitching violently, you are a it. As for Miss Bailey, I wouldnt inter- perfect fool ! fere for the world; I dont mean a childs Miss Welwood had sought to soften school. I mean an academy for young the blow which she knew the knowledge ladies. You know Mrs. Dale had to of her poverty would be to Mrs. Barkley send Ellen away to boarding-school; and by bringing a little present with her. It Mrs. Wright told me herself once that 38 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. it was a great expense to her to have to educate Lydia away from home, and she didnt know how she would manage with Mary and Agnes; and then the new peo- ple have girls the rich Smiths have two; and Rachel King would send Anna, I know. Did you mean to have a boarding- school? Mrs. Barkley demanded. I mean an academy, dear Matty, on the lines of Miss Braces; of course it never could be so fine, buL Ill do my best. The young ladies may board, or they may return to their families at night, if their parents prefer. And then Miss Maria produced her trump card: In fact, Matty, my dear, I have ar- ranged an advertisement of the school, and it is to appear in the Globe next Sat- urday. This is a proof. (The gentle- man to whom I gave my notice called it a proof.) She fumbled in a reticule at her side a black bag with a band of flexible bead embroidery representing flowers and blue starsand produced the notice; the bit of paper was flimsy and inky, and it had several typographical errors, but it displayed the advertisement, enclosed in a black border of inverted urns, which, in an upright position, formed the usual frame for the funeral notices in the Globe: You know, Matty, Miss Maria said, eagerly, we had all those things at Miss Brac& s. Dear me! cant you just see Miss Brace when she opened the classes in September, with those white curls and her turban! Oh, my gracious, how we girls used to shiver when she pointed her forefinger at us! I shant do that, any- how. Nobody would shiver if you did, Mrs. Barkley assured her. Miss Brace was very gebteel and dignified; but if you think. Maria Welwood, that you Oh Miss Maria said, with eager hu- mility, of course not! but Ive got my notes, and Im going to say just the same things. I was looking over her remarks on art this morningI took em down in my commonplace-bookand Ive commit- ted em to memory: The making of wax flowers is an art most suitable for young ladies; frost and snow may reign around us, and nip the tender blossoms in our gardens, but our homes may still be made elegant by delightful representations of Floras children. We began with the pomegranate flower, Miss Welwood end- ed, with a happy sigh of memory. Well, Mrs. Barkley said, morosely, I dont believe anybody would pay twenty-five cents to learn how to make a pomegranate flower, nowadays; I wouldnt. Anyhow, I dont believe you remember it, Maria. I tell you the only thing for you to do is to corvie here. Now, MariaIIwish you would, said Mrs. Barkley, with a sob. But Miss Welwood only patted the hard old hand, and said, cheerfully: Of course I shall have to brush up a little. I wasnt quite sure about the alum baskets, but I tried one to-day, and it came out pretty well. History is the only thing Im ner- vous about, but Rose is pretty fresh in that. As for arithmetic, of course Ill have all the answers in the book, so I can tell when the sums are not right. Well began Mrs. Barkley, slowly, and then burst out: suppose Rose were to get married? You couldnt get along by yourself, so whats the use of begin- ning? Rose get married? said Miss Maria. WellI dont see any prospect just now; not but what any gentleman might be glad to have her. If she did, youd go and live with her said Mrs. Barkley, decidedly, so why not both of you come here until then? I wouldnt think of living with her, cried Miss Maria, with spirit ; no, in- deed! If my darling Rose gets married, and leaves the academy, IllIll just get something else to do. Or maybe by that time Ill have brushed up so I can keep along by myself. But no young gentle- man is waiting on Rose. Why, there arent any young gentlemen in Old Ches- ter MISS MARIA WELLWOOD Begs Leave to Intimate to her Friends and the Inhabitants of Old Chester that She Intends to Open an Academy On Monday, 20th of November, for the Instruction of Young Ladies, in Grammar, Arithmetic, Geography (with the use of the Globes and Mapping), Chronology, Drawing, French, Painting on Velvet, Berthollet Art System, Paint- ing on Glass, Mezzotinto, Alum Baskets, Wa~ Flowers, Plain and Ornamental Needle-Work. Especial Attention will 1e givea to Deportment and Religion. Miss WELLWOOD Locust Street, Old Chester. MISS MARIA. 39 Mrs. Barkley took off her spectacles, and looked at Miss Maria sidewise. Suppose Ezra took a fancy to Rose ? ToRose ? Miss Weiwood looked at her open-mouthed. - Yes, Rose, Miss Barkley repeated, with a snap. Thats what I said. Rose! Miss Maria faltered. And then she said, with a certain sharpness, lies twenty-five years older than Rose. Well, well, Mrs. Barkley interrupted crossly, I only said suppose. Miss Maria, with the color hot in her face, said again something of age and youth; and, anyhow, they never, either of them, thought of such a thing! Well, said Mrs. Barkley, very like- ly I was mistaken. I was only suppos- ing, anyway. But theres another thing (somebodys got to talk sense to you !)I dont believe youd get pupils enough to pay for your shoestrings. Miss Brace was very superior, of course, but schools are very different nowIve been told. True Miss Welwood admitted; too true; and it is high time that things should improve. If I may be the humble instrument in educating young women as we were educated, Matty, to respect their parents, and honor their God, and learn how to walk across a room properly, and remember dates(Do you recollect, Now Semiramis, Beautiful Sinner that stood for 1050 B.C., you know-N. S. B.S. Think how Ive remembered that out of Miss Braces old chronology)if I can teach them these things, I shall feel that the Lord had a purpose in taking away my money. The Lord ! cried Mrs. Barkley, angri- ly; dont put it on the Lords, shoul- ders ! Afterwards, when she repeated this con- versation to her brother-in-law, Mrs. Bark- ley added that it was bad enough to think that the Lord was responsible for crea- ting that Charles!though maybe He isnt, said Mrs. Barkley, in a deep bass; maybe its Somebody Else ! Which bold theology was quite startling, even to a man who had gone so far towards in- fidelity as to say that the size of a whales throat would have precluded the passage of a man of average size And we are not told in Holy Writ that Jonah was a dwarf, Mr. Ezra had said, in one of those rationalistic flights which so shocked Old Chester. That Charles ! said Mrs. Barkley. Think of Maria, at her time of life, hav- ing to earii her own living! Mr.Ezra frowned and sighed. I fear, he said, that Miss Welwood will not find that appreciative demand for An academy l Mrs. Barkley finished. Of course not! demand for alum baskets, Mr. Ezra continued. He had not meant to finish his sentence in that way, but it was as good as any other; and it was his own. But I cannot but admire, he proceeded, Miss Marias desire for independence; it commands my respect. Were you aware that the number of school-teachers in the United States was Ezra, said his sister-in-law, slowly, looking at him over her spectacles, to be perfectly open: if you are thinking of settling, I must say that Rose is a girl in a thousand. Dear me! dear me! I dont know what men want nowadays ! And Mr. Ezra listened. VI. Mr. Barkley came home from his office early in the afternoon. He had a care- worn expression natural to a man who has a heavy task before him; he stopped to look at the paroquets, climbing with beak and claw up the wires of the cage and squeaking shrilly at his approach; but he did not give them any sugar or scratch their heads. He was thinking to himself that in tw6 hoursit would be over; he would be back again, and could sit peacefully down in his arm-chair, and let the parrots walk about over his shoulders and knees. I do not, he thought, understand this feeling of enlargement in the region of my throat. And my respiration is hastened. I think I am indisposed. At such a moment I should be especially calnV Perhaps it would be well to ar- range the interview to some extent. Any immediate action is a relief; and Mr. Ezra went up stairs to his room, to get his brief together, so to speak. He dress- ed slowly, and just before he put on his coat lie opened his watch, and standing before the little tipping glass on his high bureau, so that he might watch his ex- pression, timed himself. I will open the subject by remarking upon the weather. These October days are very agreeable. Yes, Mr. Ezra, she will reply. I trust your occupations do not keep you in-doors too much? I will 40 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. say. Here I might introduce some inter- esting data as to exercise. (Allow a min- ute.) Then I will try and bring up finan- cial matters, and speak, perhaps, of the hardships of life. (Allow five minutes.) And then I must the perspiration start- ed to Mr. Ezras brow I must remark that I should be pleased to smooth the path of life for her feet. Ending with the request that she should accept my hand. Mr. Barkicy looked at his watch. Four- teen minutes. Very good. Her reply would no doubt take another minute alldwing for the ladylike hesitation which would probably precede it. Mr. Ezra grew more careworn every minute. However, he had to go. It was already a good half -hour later than he had planned to start. So he took his stick, and set his teeth, and opening the front door, let him- self out into the still October sunshine. His sense of the seriousness of his object imparted dignity to his rotund and some- what jaunty figure; he wore a full-skirt- ed frock-coat, and his high bell-crowned hat was set just a little on one side. As he walked he kept repeating to himself the form of his proposal. When he reached Miss Welwoods gate he had only gotten so far as the hardships of life, and he debated with himself for a moment as to whether he had not better walk on and finish his silent rehearsal before he put it to the touch. But while he stood hesi- tating, Rose came down the garden path, and when she saw him there came that flicker of fun into her eyes that was so disconcerting to Mr. Ezra. Youll find Cousin Maria in the parlor, Mr. Barkley, she said. Oh, quite so, quite so, re- turned Mr. Barkley, alarmed, but so po- lite that before he knew it he found him- self ushered into the parlor and into Miss Welwoods presence. Miss Welwood was seated at a spindle- legged table drawn close to the window, struggling, it appeared, to make wax flow- ers. She was deeply depressed. Her adver- tisement was to come out in two days, and the academy was to open in less than a month, and here she was brushing up her accomplishments, only to discover that her hand had lost its cunning; for even Miss Maria could see that the heavy dark red spirals stuck to shaky green stems were as unlike the flowers she meant to make as the painty smell of the wax was unlike the fragrance of roses. Her fingers were clumsy and trembling, and a dull feeling of fright was growing up in her breast. Suppose she should find she had forgotten the use of the globes? Suppose that she could not remember Berthollets method? She looked up and saw Mr. Ezra stumbling among the chairs and tables, for the room was shadowy, even though the autumn nights h]ad thinned the vines about the windows, and some of the broad five-fingered leaves of the Virginia-creep- er were stained crimson. Miss Maria put down her wax-work with a faint sigh; she was awakening to a horrible sense of inability to meet a responsibility, and it was a relief to put it aside for a moment. Why, Mr. Ezra, she said it is in- deed a compliment to have a call from a gentleman in the afternoon, especially from you! How is dear Matty ? Mr. Ezra Barklcy took off his hat and wiped his forehead. I fear I am inter- rupting your delightful work, he said, politely. Oh, no, indeed, she said. You couldnt interrupt me, Mr. Ezra. I am making wax roses. I hope you think theyrepretty good? She looked at him wistfully. Oh yes; just so; quite so; most beau- tiful ; he assured her, kindly. These auOctober days are very agreeable, Miss Maria? Yes, she agreed, I suppose they are, but Ive had a good deal on my mind; I have not noticed them, I am afraid. You know I am going to open an academy, Mr. Ezra? Yes, lie said, eagerly; this was more direct than he could have hopedthe ref- erence to exercise might be omitted, and he could proceed at once to financial matters and the hardships of life. This he did, with several statistical allusions to which Miss Welwood listened with deep attention. Dear me, she said, if I only had some of your learning, Mr. Ezra., I am sure my academy would be successful 1 Well, now, for the matter of the acad- emy, said Mr. Barkley, changing color violently, may it not be possible that some other arrangement may be made? In fact, I had in mind aahplan which would make it possible for you to give it up. It is of this I came to speak this afternoon. (Here Mr. Ezra looked at his watch.) If you mean coming to live with MISS MAMA. 41 Matty, she said, touched and smiling, its just the kindest thing in the world for you both to think of it; but indeed I couldnt do it. Why, what would be- come of Rose? Oh Miss Rose would be there too, Mr. Ezra said, warmly; in fact, person- ally, I would find her presence a most agreeable addition to the household. Miss Maria smiled, but shook her head. You are both of you just as kind as you can be; but Im going to work, Mr. Ezra. Miss Maria took up a strip of pink wax, and rolled it into a coil for the heart of a rose. Indeed I do appreciate what Mat- ty offered, she said; I shall never for- get it. Andand your kindness, too. She looked at him as she spoke, and her lip quivered. Miss Maria, said the little gentle-. man, I was not referring to Matildas l)lan. Oh, said Miss Maria, blankly. No, maam, said Mr. Ezra; I have an idea of my own, which seems to com- bine my sisters wishes, with greater, as I may say, convenience, andand suitabili~ ty. Miss Maria, you may not be aware that the average life of the married man exceeds that of the bachelor by some years? And Iitmy sister Mr. Ezra was very unhappy; he grew red, and put on his hat, and stammered, and took it off again. As for Miss Welwood, she sat up very strai~ht, and squeezed her hands together under the table. She had forgotten Mrs. B~rkleys suggestion about Rose, but it all came back to her: he was going to offer himself to Rose! Her face grew dully red, but she did not speak. Mr. Barkley continued, bravely: I have given the subject much thought, and I am convinced that mymy plan, as you may saywill be a desirable arrangement. I venture to hope that Miss Rose will not object to it, if you do not. Rose is very young, Miss Welwood said, in a low voice. Im sure I dont know herher sentiments. Very well, then, said Mr. Ezra, and drew himself up, and looked at her with a kindly eye. Miss Welwood, I have long felt the deepest esteem for you, and your present courageous attitude in this distressing financial crisis has added admi- ration to esteem. Miss Welwood, though in matters so delicate as the affections I dislike haste, the exigencies of the present moment must be my excuse for so abrupt a statement of mymy-of myahas you might say, regard. Miss Welwood, will you do me the honor to accept my hand? Miss Maria put down the roll of wax on the table, and stared at him without speaking. You see, he said, it will betO me an agreeable solution of this somewhat difficult situation. May I hope that your sentiments towards me are not unkind? Why, she said, in a whisper, I dontI dont understand ! I am aware that my request may seem sudden, Mr. Barkley explained, and I should have been glad to lead up to it with proper decorum; but I as- sure you, Miss Maria, of the warmth of mymy sentiments. There was silence for a moment. Mr. Ezras face was red and anxious. I trust I have not offend- ed you by theas you might say, blunt- ness of myof my address? No; oh no, Miss Maria assured him, faintly. Then she added, in a low voice, But Matty? perhaps Matty would have wishedsomething else ? Miss Rose will live with us, said Mr. Ezra, with calm directness; that will be a gratification to Matilda, beyond a doubt. I dont know what to say, Miss Maria said, beginning to roll a piece of wax in her trembling fingers. I never thought of such a thingat leastnot lately. Then suddenly she put her head down on the table on the strips of red and pink wax, and covered her eyes with her shak- ing fingers. It had comeher long-de- layed romance. Her little hope had risen on glittering wings out of the amber of the past, where it had lain so long. Mr. Ezra had spoken! She looked over at him, and put her l)and out across the table and touched his arm timidly. Ezra, she said, you do care for me? It seemed to Miss Maria, in the stress and reality of her calamity, that this was all unrealall a sort of play; as if she were looking at Mr. Ezra through the wrong end of a magnifying-glass. Her poor little words pierced the haze of Mr. Ezras mild and kindly wish with a shock; he, too, looked at her, silent. Why he said, and stopped. After all, the days when such a question would have had meaning for Ezra were very 42 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. far back; perhaps there never had been such days ;kindly, silent, dull, with few thoughts and many facts, perhaps he never knew the answer a man might make to such a question. All he knew now was that here was a fact: a lady for whom he had great esteem was in need. But as he looked at her, suddenly he blushed, and breathed a little more quick- ly; a break caine in his calm, kind voice. I hope you will think favorably of my offer? He took her hand as he spoke and patted it, with evident agitation. len- treat you, Miss Maria ! he said. And Miss Maria smiled through her tears. Mrs. Barkley nearly swooned, she told Miss Welwood afterwards, when Ezra came home and told her; and she added that, to be perfectly frank, Ezra was as stubborn as a mule. But upon my word, said Mrs. Barkley, I believe he was right I Everybody is sometimes right, by chance; and I think, after all, that this is the best arrangement. But why didnt I think of it myself? I was a perfect fool I As for Rose, the gayety leaped back into her voice, and she laughed with all the old flashing looks and rapid words, and declared that she was ready to say, Bless you, my children, right away. But all the same she held on to a quiet plan of her own in regard to some work Dr. Lavendar had proposed for her, which later was, it must be admitted, a blow to Mr. Ezra. Charles was delighted. He sent his aul)t a wedding-present, bought from her last loan to him, and he wrote her a most beautiful letter, which he ended by prot- ~stations of unaltered affection, and the statement that, as things had turned out, it proved just what lie had said: The Lord would provide I CURRENT FALLACIES UPON NAVAL SUBJECTS. BY CAPTAIN A. T. MAHAN, U.S.N. ALL matters connected with the sea tend to have, in a greater or less de- gree, a distinctly specialized character, due to the unfamiliarity which the sea, as a scene of action, has for the mass of mankind. Nothing is more trite than the remark continually made to naval officers, that life at sea must give them a great deal of leisure for reading and oth- er forms of personal culture. Without going so far as to say that there is no more leisure in a naval officers life than in some other pursuits social engage- ments, for instance, are largely eliminated when at seathere is very much less than persons imagine; and what there is is broken up by numerous petty duties and incidents, of which people living on shore have no conception, because they have no experience. It is evident that the remark proceeds in most cases from the speakers own consciousness of the un- occupied monotony o~f an ocean passage, in which, unless exceptionally observant, lie has not even detected the many small but essential functions discharged by the officers of the ship, whom he sees moving about, but the aim of whose movements he does not understand. The passenger, as re~.ards the economy of the vessel, is passive; lie fails to comprehend, often even to perceive, the intense functional activity of brain and body which goes on around himthe real life of the or- ganism. In the progress of the world, nautical matters of every kind are to most men what the transactions of a single ship are to the passenger. They receive impres- sions, which they mistake for opin ions a most common form of error. These impressions are repeated from mouth to mouth, and having the common note of superficial observation, they are found to possess a certain resemblance. So they serve mutually to fortify one another, and to constitute a quasi public opinion. The repetition and stereotyping of impres- sions are greatly forwarded by the sys- tem of organized gossip which we call the press. It is in consequence of this, quite as much as of the extravagancies in a cer- tain far from reputable form of journal- ism, that the power of the press, great as it unquestionably still is, is not what it should be. It intensifies the feeling of its own constituents, who usually take CURIRENT FALLACIES UPON NAVAL SUBJECTS. 43 the paper because they agree with it; but if candid representation of all sides constitutes a fair attempt to instruct the public, no man expects a matter to be fairly put forward. So far does this go, in the experience of the present writer, that one of the most reputable journals in the country, in order to establish a certain extreme position, quoted his opin- ion in one paragraph, while omitting to give the carefully guarded qualification expressed in the very succeeding para- graph; whereby was conveyed, by im- plication, the endorsement of the extreme opinion advocated, which the writer cer- tainly never held. It so happened that on the day this was published the paper was not delivered at the house by the local carrier; but some friends dining with him mentioned the quotation, from which they, units of the public, not know- ing his real position, had inferred that he was opposing the annexation of Hawaii. The paragraph quoted ran thus (the italics not being those of the writer): There is, however, one caution to be given from that military point of view beyond the need of which the world has not yet passed. Military positions, fortified posts, by land or by sea, however strong or admirably situated, (10 not by themselves confer control. People often say that such an island or harbor will give control of such a body of water. It is an utter, deplorable, ruinous mistake. The phrase may indeed by some be used only loose- ly, without forgetting other implied conditions of adequate protection and adequate navies; but the confidence of our own nation in its native strength, and its indifference to the de- fence of its ports and the sufficiency of its fleet, give reason to fear that the full conse- quences of a forward step may not be soberly weighed. Napoleon, who knew better, once talked this way. The islands of San Pietro, Corfn, and Malta, he wrote, will make us masters of the whole Mediterranean. Vain boast! Within one year Corfu, in two years Malta, were rent away from the state that could not support them by its ships. Nay, more; had Bonaparte not taken the latter stronghold out of the hands of its degenerate but innocuous government, that citadel of the Mediterranean would perhapswould proba- blynerer have passed into those of his chief enemy. There is here also a lesson for us. The paragraph immediately following, which was not quoted, was this: It is by no means logical to leap, from this recognition of the necessity of adequate naval force to secure outlying dependencies, to the ~0L. XCYiI.No. 5775 conclusion that the United States would need for that object a navy equal to the largest now existing. A nation as far removed as is our own froni the bases of foreign naval strength may reasonably reckon upon the qualification that distancenot to speak of the complex European interests close at hand impresses upon the exertion of naval strength by European powers. The mistake is when our remoteness, unsuppor~d by carefully cal- culated force, is regarded as an armor of proof, under cover of which any amount of swagger may be safely indulged. An estimate of what is an adequate naval force for our country may properly take into account the happy in- terval which separates both our present terri- tory and our future aspirations from the cen- tres of interest really vital to European states. So much for trying, as the actual writer had done, to show people the truth, as lie saw it, by giving theni both sides of the question. Direct misrepresentation, however, whether by commission or by oniission, careless or wilful, is probably less harm- ful than the indirect injury produced by continual repetition of unintentional mis- conceptions. The former occurs general- ly in the case of living, present-moment questions; it reaches chiefly those already convinced; and it has its counteraction in the arguments of the other party, which are read by the appropriate constituency. The real work of those questions of the day goes on behind the scenes; and the press affects them, not because of its in- trinsic power, but only in so far as it is thought to represent the trend of thought in a body of voters. On subjects of less immediate moment, as military and na- val matters areexcept when war looms near, and preparation is too latemens brains, already full enough of pressing cares, refuse to work, and submit passive- ly to impressions, as the eye, without conscious action, takes note of and re- cords external incidents. Unfortunately these impressions, uncorrected by reflec- tion, exaggerated in narration, and inten- sified by the repetition of a number of writers, come to constitute a body of pub- lic belief, not strictly rational in its birth or subsequent growth, but as impassive in its resistance to argument as it was innocent of mental process during its for- mation. The intention of the present paper is to meet, and as far as possible to remove, some such current errors of the day on naval matterspopular misconceptioiis, 44 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. continually en countered in conversation and in the newspapers. Accepting the existence of the navy, and the necessity for its continuance for some starting-point must be assumed the errors to be touched upon are: 1. That the United States needs a navy for defence only. 2. That a na~~y for defence only means for the immediate defence of our seaports and coast - line; an allowance also being made for scattered cruisers to prey upon an enemys commerce. 3. That if we go beyond this, by ac- quiring any territory overseas, either by negotiation or conquest, we step at once to the need of having a navy larger than the largest,which is that of Great Britain, now the largest in the world. 4. That the difficulty of doing this, and the expense involved, are the greater be- cause of the rapid advances in naval im- provement, which it is gravely said make a ship obsolete in a very few years; or, to use a very favorite hyperbole, she becomes obsolete before she can be launched. The assertion of the rapid obsolescence of ships of war will be dwelt upon, in the hopes of contravening it. 5. After this paper had been written, the calamity to the United States ship Maine, in the harbor of Havana, elicited, from the mourning and consternation of the country, the evident tokens of other unreasoning apprehensions springing from imperfect knowledge and va~ue im- pressionswhich at least should be no- ticed cursorily, and if possible appeased. First, the view that the United States should plan its navyin numbers and in sizes of shipsfor defence only, rests upon a confusion of ideasa political idea and a military ideaunder the one term of de- fence. Politically, it has al ways been assumed in the United States, and very ~properly, that our policy should never be wantonly aggressive; that we should nev- er seek our own advantage, however evi- dent, by an unjust pressure upon another nation, much less by open war. This, it will be seen, is a political idea, one which serves for the guidance of the people and of the statesmen of the country in deter- miningnot how war is to be carried on, which is a military question, butunder what circumstances war is permissible, or unjust. This is a question of civil policy, pure and simple, and by no means a mili- tary question. As a nation, we have al ways vehemently avowed that we will, and do, act justly; in practice, like other states, and like mankind generally, when we have wanted anything very badly, we haveat least at timesmanaged to see that it was just that we should have it. In the matter of general policy our hands are by no means clean from aggression. General Grant, after retiring from public life, maintained that the war with Mexico was an unjust war; a stigma which, if true, stains our possession of California and much other territory. The acquisi- tion of Louisiana was as great an outrage upon the technical rights of Spain as the acquisition of Hawaii would be upon the technical ri~,,hts of the fast-disappearing aborigines; and there can be little doubt that, although we did not go to war with Spain to get Florida, we made things so uncomfortable for her that she was prac- tically forced at last to get out. It does not follow necessarily that any of these actions were wrong, even if we consider that the so-called legal rights of Mexico and Spain were set a.side by the strong hand; for law is simply an invention of mankind to secure justice, and when jus- tice, the natural rights of the greater number, is prevented by the legal, not the natural, rights of a few, law may be set aside, as it is at every election, where large minorities of people are forced to submit to what they consider grievous wrong. The danger of overleaping law to secure what is right may be freely ad- mitted; but no great responsibility, such as the use of power always is, can be exercised at all without some danger of abuse. However, be that as it may, there can be no question that in times past we have aggressed upon the legal rights of other states; and in the annexation of Louisiana we infringed the letter of our own Constitution. We broke the law in order to reach an end eminently benefi- cial to the majority of those concerned. Nevertheless, while thus aggressive on occasion, warring for offence and not for defence only, it is distinctly a good thing that we hold up the ideal, and persuade ourselves that we cherish it; that we pre- pare means of war only fpr defence. It is better honestly to profess a high standard, even if we fall from it at times, than wil- fully to adopt a lower ideal of conduct. The phrase War for defence only conveys, therefore, a political idea, and, as such, a proper and noble idea. Un- CURRENT FALLACIES UPON NAVAL SUBJECTS. 45 fortunately, in our country, where al- most all activities fall under two chief heads politics and business politics, the less sensitively organized but more forceful of the two, intrudes everywhere and masters everything. We dread stand- ing armies. Why? Because standing armies, being organized masses of men, trained to obey capable leaders, may overcome the resistance of a people which is far greater in numbers, but un- organized. What are our politics now but organized masses of men, habituated to obey their leaders, among whom to change their vote is stigmatized as the treason of an Arno]d, and between which the popular will is driven helplessly from side to side, like a shuttlecock between two battledores. Politics cleans our streets, regulates our education, and so on; it is not to be wondered at that it in- trudes into the military sphere, with con- fidence all the greater that it is there especially ignorant. Let there be no mis- understanding, however. It is perfectly right that the policy of the country should dictate the character and strength of the military establishment; the evil is when policy is controlled by ignorance, summed up in a mistaken but captivating catch- word for defence only. Among all masters of military artin- cluding therein naval artit is a thor- oughly accepted principle that mere de- fensive war means military ruin, and therefore national disaster. It is vain to maintain a military or naval force whose power is not equal to assuming the offen- sive soon or late, which cannot, first or last, go out, assail the enemy, and hurt him in his vital interests. A navy for defence only, in the political sense, means a navy that will only be used in case we are forced into war; a navy for defence only, in the military sense, means a navy that can only await attack and defend its own, leaving the enemy at ease as regards his own interests, and at liberty to choose his own time and manner of fighting. It is to be observed also that the most beneficial use of a military force is not to wage war, however successfully, but to prevent war, with all its suffering, expense, and complication of embarrass- ments. Of course, therefore, a navy for defence only, from which an enemy need fear no harm, is of small account in diplo- matic relations, for it is nearly useless as a deterrent from war. Whatever there may be in our conditions otherwise to prevent states from attacking us, a navy for defence only will not add to them. For mere harbor defence, fortifications are decisively superior to ships, except where peculiar local conditions are found. All our greatest cities on the Atlantic and Gulf coasts can be locally defended better by forts than by ships; but if, instead of a navy for defence only, there be one so large that the enemy must send a great many ships across the Atlantic, if he sends any, then the question whether he can spare so great a number is very serious, considering the ever-critical condition of European politics. Suppose, for instance, we could put twenty battle-ships in com- mission for war in thirty days, and that we had threatening trouble with either Germany, France, Great Britain, or Rus- sia. There is not one of these, except Great Britain, that could afford to send over here twenty-five battle-ships, which would be the very fewest needed, seeing the distance of their operations from home, while we have friendly ports; while Great Britain, relying wholly on her navy for the integrity of her empire, equally cannot afford the hostility of a nation having twenty battle - ships, and with whom her points of difference are as in- consequential to her as they are with us. It should be remembered, too, that any war which may arise with the naval na- tions of Europeor with Japan, which will soon rank with themwill not be with reference to our own territories, but to our external relations. In the Monroe doctrine, as now understood and viewed in the light of the Venezuela incident, with the utterances then made by our statesmen of all parties, we have on hand one of the biggest contracts any modern state has undertaken. Nor may we an- ticipate from other nations the easy ac- quiescence of Great Britain. The way the latter sticks by Canada should warn us, that we prevailed in Venezuela be- cause the matter to her was not worth war. Great Britain is gorged with land. Her statesmen are weary of looking af- ter it, and of the persistence with which one advance compels another. It is not so with Germany and France. The lat- ter is traditionally our friend, however, and her ambitions, even when she held Canada, have ever pointed east rather than west. But how about Germany? It is the fashion here to proclaim the Emperor 46 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. a fool, for his shibboleth is imperialistic and not republican; but if he be,it is with the folly of the age on the European Continentthe hunger for ships, colonies, and commerce, after which the great Na- poleon so hankered, and upon which the prosperity of Great Britain has been built. Ships, colonies, commerce, mean to a European nation of to - day just what our vast, half-improved, heavily tariffed territory means to us. They mean to those nations room to expand, land wherewith to portion off the sons and daughters that cannot find living space at home, widespread political and inter- national influence, through blood affili- ation with prosperous colonies, the pow- er of which, in the sentiment of brother- hood, received such illustration in the Queens Jubileeone of the most majestic sights of the ages; for no Roman triumph ever equalled for variety of interest the Jubilee, in which not victorious force, but love, the all-powerful, was the tie that knit the diversities of the great pageant into one coherent, living whole. What political power is stable save that which holds mens hearts? And what holds mens hearts like blood-relationship, per- rnitted free course and given occasional manifestation and exchange? German colonies, like unto those of Great Britain such is the foolish day-dream of the German Emperor, if folly it be; but if he be a fool, he knows at least that recip- rocal advantage, reciprocal interests, pro- mote the exchange of kindly offices, by which has been kept alive the love be- tween Englishmen at home and English- men in the colonies. He knows, also, that such advantages derive from power, from forcenot force exerted necessarily, but force possessedand that force, pow- er, depends not upon fleets and armies only, but upon positions also--war be- ing, as Napoleon used to say, a busi- ness of positions one of those pregnant phrases of the great captain upon which a man may meditate many hours with- out exhausting it. A state that aims at maritime power and at colonial empire, as Germany unquestionablynay, avowed- lynow does, needs not only large and widely dispersed colonies ; she further needs influence upon those routes of com- merce which connect together countries and colonies, and for that she wants pos- session of minor points, whose value is rather military than commercial, but which essentially affect the control of the sea and of the communications. Now the secrets of the Emperor and of his more confidential advisers are not all worn upon the sleeve, as might be in- ferred from the audacity and apparent imprudence of occasional utterances. It is known, however, not only from his words, which might be discounted, but from his acts, that he wants a big navy, that he has meddled in South Africa, and that he has on a slight pretext, but not, it may well be believed, in any frivolous spirit, seized Kiac-chon. in China. What all this means to himself can be only a matter of inference. The present writer, after inquiring in quarters likely to be well informed, has been able to obtain nothing more positive than deductions, reasonably made, by men whose business it is to watch current events in Europe; but the idea has long been forming in the minds of political thinkers, looking not only upon the moves of the political chess - board as they superficially appear in each days news, and are dictated large- ly by momentary emergencies, but seek- ing also to detect the purpose and tem- perament of the playersbe they men in power or national tendenciesthat the German Emperor is but continuing and expanding a scheme of policy inherited from his predecessors in the government of the state. Nay, more; it is thought that this policy represents a tendency and a need of the German people itself, in the movement towards national unity be- tween its racial constituents, in which so great an advance has already been ac- complished in the last thirty years. Ele- ments long estranged, but of the same blood, can in no way more surely attain to community of interest and of view than by the development of an external policy, of which the benefits and the pride may be common to all. True unity requires some common object, around which diverse interests may cling and crystallize. Nations, like families, need to look outside themselves, if they would escape, on the one hand, narrow self-satisfaction, or, on the other, pitiful internal dissensions. The far-reaching external activities fostered in Great Brit- ain by her insular position have not only intensified patriotism, but have given also a certain nobility of breadth to her states- manship up to the middle of this cen- tury. CURRENT FALLACIES UPON NAVAL SUBJECTS. 47 Why, then, should not Germany, whose political unity was effected near two cen- turies after that of Great Britain, do wise- ly in imitating a policy whereby the older state has become an empire, that still travels onward to a further and greater unity, which, if realized, shall embrace in one fold remote quarters of the world? Where is the folly of the one conception or of the other? The folly, if it prove such,has as yet no demonstrable existence, save in the imaginations of a portion of the people of the United States, who, clinging to certain maxims of a century agowhen they were qdite applicableor violently opposed to any active interest in matters outside our family of States, find that those who differ from themselves are, if Americans, jingoes, and if foreigners, like the present Emperor William and Mr. Chamberlain, fools. The virtues and the powers of the British and German peoples may prove unequal to their ambitions time alone can show; but it is a noble aim in their rulers to seek to extend their in- fluence, to establish their positions, and to knit them together, in such wise that as races they may play a mighty part in the worlds history. The ambition is noble, even if it fail; if it succeed, our posterity may take a different view of its folly, and of our own wisdom in this generation. For there are at least two steps, in other directions than those as yet taken, by which the Emperor, when he feels strong enough at seahe is yet scarcely in mid- dle lifemight greatly and suddenly in- crease the maritime empire of Germany, using means which are by no means un- precedented, historically, but which would certainly arouse vehement wrath in the United States, and subject to a severe test our maxim of a navy for defence only. There is a large and growing German col- ony in southern Brazil, and I am credibly informed that there is a distinct effort to divert thither, by means direct and indi- rect, a considerable part of the emigration which now comes to the United States, and therefore is lost politically to Germany for she has, of course, no hope of coloniza- tion here. The inference is that the Em- peror hopes at a future day, for which he is young enough to wait, to find in south- ern Brazil a strong German population, which in due time may seek to detach it- self from the Brazilian Republic, as Texas once detached itself from Mexico; and which may then seek political union with Germany, as Texas sought political union with the United States, to obtain support against her former owners and masters. Without advancing any particular opin- ion as to the advisable geographical limits of the Monroe doctrine, we may be pretty sure that the 4merican people would word- ily resent an act which in our press would be called the aggression of a European military monarchy upon the political or territorial rights of an American repub- lic. This also could be accompanied with the liberal denunciation of William II. which now ornaments our editorial columns; but hard words break no bones, and the practical question would remain, What are you going to do about it? with a navy for defence only. If you cannot offend Germany, in the military sense of offend that is, if you cannot seek her out and hurt herhow are you going to control her? In contemplation of the future contingencies of our nation- al pohcy, let us contrast our own project- ed naval force with that now recom- mended to the German Reichstag by the Budget Committee, despite the many prophecies that the Emperor could not obtain his desired navy. The Budget Committee of the Reichstag to-day adopt- ed, in accordance with the government proposals, parts of the naval bill, fixing the number of ships to be held in readi- ness for service as follows: 1 flag-ship, 18 battle-ships, 12 large cruisers, 30 small cruisers, 8 coast-defence ironclads, and 13 gunboats, besides torpedo - boats, school- ships, and small gunboats. ~ That these numbers were fixed with reference to the United States is indeed improbable; but the United States should take note. A second means of expanding Germany as a colonial power would be to induce the Dutchwho are the Germans of the lower Rhine and the North Seato seek union with the German Empire, the em- pire of the Germans of the upper Rhine, of the Elbe, and of the Baltic. This, it may be said, would be far less difficult in consummation than the scheme last sug- gested; for in Brazil, as in the United States and elsewhere, the German emi- grant tends to identify himself with the institutions he finds around him, and shows little disposition to political in- dependencea fact which emphasizes the necessity of strictly German colonies, if the race, outside of Europe, is not to un * From a telegram from Berlin of March 2 nit. 48 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. dergo political absorption. The difficul- ties or the advantages which the annexa- tion of Holland might involve, as regards the political balance of power in Europe, and the vast Asiatic colonies of the Dutch Sumatra, Java, New Guinea, etc.are a consideration outside the ~cope of Amer- ican policy; but the transaction would involve one little incident as to which, unlike southern Brazil, a decided opinion may be expressed, and that incident would be the transferrence of the island of Cura- gao, in the West Indies, to Germany. If Curaao and its political tenure do not fall within the purview of the Monroe doctrine, the Monroe doctrine has no ex- istence; for the island, though small, has a weilnigh impregnable harbor, aI)d lies close beside the routes to the Central American Isthmus, which is to us what Egypt and Suez are to England. But what objection can we urge, or what can we do, with a navy for defence only, in the military sense of the word de- fence? The way out of this confusion of thought, the logical method of reconcil- ing the political principle of non-aggres- sion with a naval power capable of taking the offensive, if necessary, is to recognize, and to say, that defence means not mere- ly defence of our territory, but defence of our just national interests, whatever they be and wherever they are. For example, the exclusion of direct European polit- ical control from the Isthmus of Pan- ania is as really a matter of national de- fence as is the protection 6f New York Harbor. Take this as the political mean- ing of the phrase a navy for defence only, and naval men, I think, must ad- mit that it is no longer inapplicable as a military phrase, but expresses adequately the naval needs of the nation. But no military student can consider efficient a force so limited, in quantity or in quality, that it must await attack before it can act. Now admitting this view as to the scope of the word defence, what is the best meth- od of defending your interests when you know that another intends to attack them? Is it to busy yourself with precautions here, and precautions there, in every di- rection, to head him off when he comes? Or is it to take the simpler means of so preparing that you have the power to hurt him, and to make him afraid that, if he moves, he will be the worse hurt of the two? In life generally a man who means mischief is kept in check best by fear of being hurt; if he has no more to dread than failure to do harm, no reason to ap- prehend receiving harm, he will make his attempt. But while this is probably true of life in general, it is notably true of war- fare. The state which in war relies sim- ply upon defending itself, instead of upon hurting the enemy, is bound to incur dis- aster, and for the very simple reason that the party which proposes to strike a blow has but one thing to do; whereas he who proposes only to ward off blows has a dozen things, for he canno~t know upon which interest, of a dozen that he may have, the coming blow may fall. For this reason, a gain, a navy for defence only is a wholly misleading phrase, un- less defence be construed to include all national interests, and not only the na- tional territory; and further, unless it he understood that the best defence of ones own interests is power to injure those of the enemy. In the summary of points to be dealt with has been included the opinion that offensive action by a navy may be limit- ed to merely preying upon the enemys commercethat being considered not only a real injury, but one great enough to bring him to peace. Concerning this, it will suffice here to say that national mari- time commerce does not consist in a num- ber of ships sprinkled, as by a pepper-pot, over the surface of the ocean. Rightly viewed, it constitutes a great system, with the strength and weakness of such. Its strength is that possessed by all organ- ized power, namely, that it can undergo a good deal of local injury, such as scat- tered cruisers may inflict, causing incon- venience and suffering, without receiving vital harm. A strong man cannot be made to quit his work by sticking pins in him, or by bruising his shins, or blacking his eyes; he must be hit in a vital part, or have a bone broken, to be laid up. The weaknesses of commercethe fatally vul- nerable parts of its systemare the com- mercial routes over which ships pass. They are the bones, the skeleton, the framework of the organism. Hold them, break them, and commerce falls with a crash, even though no ship is taken, but all locked up in safe ports. But to effect this is not the work of dis- persed cruisers picking up ships here and there, as birds pick up crumbs, but of yes- CURRENT FALLACIES UPON NAVAL SUBJECTS. 49 sels massed into powerful fleets, holding the sea, or at the least making the high- ways too dangerous for use. A navy so planned is for defence indeed, in the true sense that the best defence is to crush your enemy by deprivin~ him of the use of the sea. We now come to the assertion that if the United States takes to itself interests beyond the seaof which Hawaii is an instanceit not only adds to its liabil- ities, which is true, but incurs an un- necessary exposure, to guard against which we need no less than the greatest navy in the world. It might be retorted that, willy-nilly, we already, by general national consent, have accepted numerous external inter- estsembraced under the Monroe doc- trine ; and that, as regards Hawaii, many even who reject annexation admit that our interests will not tolerate any other nation taking those islands. But how shall we enforce even that limited amount of interest if any other power Great Britain, Germany, or Japande- cide to take, and the islanders acquiesce? In such cases we should even be worse off, militarily, than with annexation com- pleted. Let us, however, put aside this argumentof the many already existing external interestsand combat this alle- gation, that an immense navy would be needed, by recurring to the true military conception of defence already developed. The subject will thus tend to unity of treat- ment, centring round that word Defence. Effective defence does not consist prima- rily in power to protect, but in power to injure. A mans defence a~ainst a snake, if corneredif he must have to do with it is not to protect himself, hut to kill the snake. If a snake got into the room, as often happens in India, the position should not be estimated by ability to get out of the room ones self, but by power to get rid of the snake. In fact, a very interest- ing illustration of the true theory of de- fence is found in a casual remark in a nat- ural history about snakesthat compara- tively few are dangerous to man, but that the whole family is protected by the fear those few inspire. If attacked by a dog, safety is not sought chiefly in the means of warding him off, but by showing him the means possessed of hurting him, as by picking up a stone; and with a man,where an appeal lies to the intelligence, the argu- ment from power to injure is peculiarly strong. If a burglar, thinking to enter a room, knows that he mayor willkill the occupant, but that the latter may break his leg, he will not enter. The game would not be worth the candle. Apply this thought now to the United States and its naval needs. As Great Britain is by very far the greatest naval power, let us take her to be the supposed enemy. If we possessed the Hawaiian Islands, and war unhappily broke out with Great Britain, she could now, if she de- sired, take them without trouble, so far as our navy is concerned; so could France; so possibly, five years hence, could Japan. That is, under our present conditions of naval weakness, either France or Great Britain could spare ships enough to over- come our force, without fatally crippling her European fleet; whereas, were our navy half the size of the British, she could not afford to sehd half her fleet so far away from home; nor, if we had half ours in the Pacific and half in the Atlan- tic, could she afford to send one-third or one-fourth of her entire navy so far from her greater interests, independent of the fact that, even if victorious, it would be very badly used before our force was de- feated. Hawaii is not worth that to Great Britain; whereas it is of so much conse- quence to us that, even if lost, it would probably be returned at a peace, as Mar- tinique and Guadeloupe invariably have been to France. Great Britain would not find its vu.lue equivalent to our resent- ruent at her holding it. Now the argu- ment as to the British fleet is still stronger as to France, for she is as distant as Great Britain nud has a smaller navy. The ar- gument is different as regards Japan, for she is nearer by far than they, only half as far again as we, and that power has re- cently given us an intimation which, if we disregard, we do so in face of the facts, Her remonstrance about the annexation of Hawaii, however far it went, gave us fair warning that a great naval state was about to come into being in the Pacific, prepared to watch, and perhaps to con- test, our action in what we thought our interests demanded. From that instant the navy of Japan becomes a standard, showing,whether we annex the islands or not, a minimum beneath which our Pa- cific fleet cannot be allowed to fall, with- out becoming a navy for defence only, in the very worst sense. This brief train of reasoning will sug 50 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. gest why it is not necessary to have a navy equal to the greatest, in order to in- sure that sense of fear which deters a rival from war, or handicaps his action in war. The biggest navy that ever existed cannot all be sent on one mission, in any prob- able state of the political world. A much smaller force, favorably placed, produces an effect far beyond its proportionate numbei-s; for, to quote again Napoleons phrase, War is a business of positions. This idea is by no means new, even to unprofessional men; on the contrary, it is so old that it is deplorable to see such fatuous arguments as the necessity of equalling Great Britains navy adduced against any scheme of external policy. The annexation of Hawaii, to recur to that, may be bad policy for many reasons, of which I am no good judge; but, as a naval student, I hesitate not to say that, while annexation may entail a bigger navy than is demanded for the mere ex- clusion of other states from the islands though I personally do not think soit is absurd to say that we should need a navy equal to that of Great Britain. In 1794 Gouverneur Morris wrote that if the Unit- ed States had twenty ships of the line in commission, no other state would provoke her enmity. At that time Great Britains navy was relatively more powerful than it is now,while she and France were rival- ling each other in testing the capacity of our counMy to stand kicking; but Morriss estimate was perfectly correct, and shows how readily a sagacious layman can un- derstand a military question, if only he will put his mind to it, and not merely echo the press. Great Britain then could not--and much moi~e France could not afford to have twenty ships of the line op- erating against her interests on the other side of the Atlantic. They could not afford it in actual war; they could not afford it even in peace, because not only might war arise at any time, but it would be much more likely to happen if either. party provoked the United States to hos- tility. The mere menace of such a force, its mere existence, would have insured decent treatment without war; and Mor- ris, who was an able financier,~conjectured that to support a navy of such size for twenty years would cost the public trea- sury less than five years of war would, not to mention the private losses of in- dividuals in war. All policy that involves external action is sought to be discredited by this asser- tion, that it entails the expense of a navy equal to the greatest now existing on the sea, no heed being given to the fact that we already have assumed such external responsibilities, if any weight is to be at- tached to the evident existence of a strong popular feeling in favor of the Monroe doctrine, or to Presidential or Congres- sional utterances in the Venezuela busi- ness, or in that of Hawaii. The assertion is as old as the century; as is also the complementary ignorance of the real in- fluence of an inferior military or naval force in contemporary policy, when such force either is favored by position, or can incline decisively, to one side or the other, the scales in a doubtful balance. To such misapprehensions we owed, in the early part of this century, the im- pressment of hundreds of American sea- men, and the despotic conti-ol of our com- merce by foreign governments; to this the blockading of our coasts, the harry- ing of the shores of Chesapeake Bay, the burning of Washington, and a host of less remembered attendant evils. All these things might have been prevented by the timely maintenance of a navy of tolerable strength, deterring the war- ring powers from wanton outrage. In the present day the argument that none but the greatest navy is of any avail, and that such is too expensive for us to contemplate as it probably is- is re-enforced by the common statement that the ship built to-day becomes obso- lete in an extremely short time, the pe- riod stated being generally a rhetorical figure rather than an exact estimate. The word obsolete itself is used here vaguely. Strictly, it means no more than gone out of use; but it is under- stood, correctly, I think, to mean be- come useless. A ladys bonnet may be- come obsolete, being gone out of use be- cause no longer in fashion, though it may still be an adequate head-covering; but an obsolete ship of war can only be one that is put out of use because it is useless. A ship momentarily out of use, because not needed, is no more obsolete than a hat hung up when the owner comes in. When a ship is called obso- lete, therefore, it is meant that she is out of use for the same reason that many old English words are-because they are no longer good for their purpose; their meaning being lost to mankind in gen CURRENT FALLACIES UPON NAVAL SUBJECTS. 51 era-i, they no longer serve for the ex- which fighting-work can be found, with change of Thought. a tolerable chancea fighting chanceof In this sense the obsolescence of mod- her being successful; because, though Un- em ships of war is just one of those half- equal to this or that position of exposure, truths which, as Tennyson has it, are she, by occupying an inferior one, releases ever the worst of lies; it is harder to a better ship. And here again we must meet and fight outright than an unqual- guard ourselves from thinking that infe- ified untruth. It is true that improve- nor force-inferior in number or inferior ment is continually going on in the va- in qualityhas no chance against a supe- rious parts of the complex mechanism nor. The idea is simply another phase which constitutes a modern ship of war; of a navy equal to the greatest, an- although it is also true that many changes other military heresy. A ship under the are made which are not improvements, guns of one thrice her force, from which and that reversion to an earlier type, the her speed cannot carry her, is doubtless a abandonment of a once fancied improve- lost ship. She may be called even obso- ment,is no unprecedented incident in re- lete, though she be the last product of cent naval architecture and naval ord- naval science, just from a dock-yard. Be- nance. The revulsion from the Monitor, fore such extreme conditions are reached, the turreted ship pure and simple, to the however, by a ship or a fleet, many other broadside battery analogous to that car- factors than merely relative force come ned by the old ships of Farragut and into play; primarily,man,with all that his Nelson, is one of the most singular and personality implies skill, courage, dis- interesting changes in mens thoughts cipline,-----after that, chance, opportunity, that the writer has met, either in his ex- accidents of time, accidents of place, ac- perience or in his professional reading. cidents of ground,the whole unforeseea- The day can be recalled when the broad- ble chapter of incidents which go to form side battle-ship was considered as dead military history. A military situation is as Cock-Robinher knell was rung, and made up of many factors, and before a herself buried without honors; yet, not ship can be called obsolete, useless to the only has she revived, but I imagine that great general result, it must be deter- I should have a very respectable follow- mined that she can contribute no more ing among iiaval officers now in believ- than zero to either side of the equation ing, as I do, that the broadside guns, and or of the inequality. From the time she not those in the turrets, are the primary left the hands of the desi~ners, a unit of battery of the shipprimary, I mean, in maximum value, throughout the period fighting value. Whatever the worth of of her gradual declension, many years this opinionwhich is immaterial to the will elapse during which a ship once first- present contentiona change so radical rate will be an object of consideration to as from broadside battery to turreted friend and foe. She will wear out like a ships, and from the latter back to broad- garment, but she does not necessarily be- side, thou~h without entirely giving up come obsolete till worn out. It may be turrets, should cause some reasonable hes- added that the indications now are that itancy in imputing obsoleteness to any radical chan~,es of design are not to be armored steamship. The present battle- expected shortly, and that we have reach- ship reproduces, in essential principles, ed a type likely to endure. A ship built the ships that preceded the epoch-making five years hence may have various advan- Monitorthe pivot guns of the earlier tages of detail over one now about to be vessels being represented by the present launched, but the chances are they will turrets, and their broadsides by the pines- not be of a kind that reverse the odds ent broadside. The prevalence of the of battle. This, of course, is only a fore- Monitor type was an interlude, power- cast, not an assertion; a man who has fully affecting the development of na- witnessed the coming and going of the vies, but making nothing obsolete. It Monitor type will forbear prophecy. did not effect a revolution, but a modifi- Now, as always, the best ships in the cationmuch as homceopathy did in the greatest number, as on shore the best regular practice.~ troops in the greatest masses, will be car- There is, of course, a line on one side ned as speedily as possible, and maintain- of which the term obsolete applies, but ed as efficiently as possible, on the front it may be said that no ship is obsolete for of operations. But in various directions VOL. XCVII.No. 5776 52 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. and at various points behind that front there are other interests to be subserved, by vessels of inferior class, as garrisons may be made up wholly or in part of troops no longer well fitted for the field. But should disaster occur, or the foe prove unexpectedly strong, the first line of reserved ships will move forward to fill the gaps, analogous in this to the va- rious corps of reserved troops who have passed their first youth, with which the Continental organizations of military ser- vice have made us familiar. This pos- sibility has been recognized so well by modern naval men that some even have looked for decisive results, not at the hands of the first and most powerful ships, but from the readiness and num- ber of those which have passed into the reserve, and will come into play after the first shock of war. That a reserve force should decide a doubtful battle or cam- paign is a frequent military experience an instance of superior staying power. There is no reason, therefore, to worry about a ship becoming obsolete, any more than there is over the fact that the best suit of to-day may be that for the office next year, and may finally descend to a dependent, or be cut down for a child. Whatever money a nation is willing to spend on maintaining its first line of ships, it is not weaker, but stronger, when one of these drops into the reserve and is replaced by a newer ship. The great anxiety, in truth, is not lest the ships should not continue valid, but lest there be not trained men enough to man both the first line and the reserve. Here the present article, as at first con- templated,would have closed; but the re- cent disaster to the Maine has produced its own crop of sudden and magnified ap- prehensions. These, to the professional mind, are necessarily a matter of concern, but chiefly because they have showed the seeds of a popular distrust before sown in mens minds. As evinced, however, they too are fallacies born of imperfect know- ledge. The magnitude of the calamity was indisputable; but the calm self-possession of the nation and of the better portion of the press, face to face with the possible international troubles that might ensue, contrasted singularly with the unrea- soned imaginations that immediately found voice concerning the nature and dangers of battle - ships. The political self-possession and dignity reposed upon knowledgenot, indeed, of the eventual effect upon our intern ationaPrelation s but knowledge, bred of long acquaintance with public affairs, that, before further action, there must be investigation; and that after investigation, action, if it must follow, would be taken with due deliber- ation. So men were content to wait for justice to pursue its even course. But the fact that such an appalling catastrophe had befallen one battle-ship fell upon the minds imperfectly informed in naval matters, and already possessed by various exaggerated impressions, loose- ly picked np from time to time. Men knew not what to think, and so thought the worstas we are all apt to do when in the dark. It is possible that naval officers, being accustomed to live over a magazine, and ordinarily to eat their meals within a dozen yards of the pow- der, may have a too great, though inevi- table, familiarity with the conditions. There is, however, no contempt for them among us; and the precautions taken are so well known, the remoteness of danger so well understood, that it is difficult to comprehend the panic terror that found utterance in the remarks of some men, presumably well - informed on general matters. It is evidently a very long and quite illogical step to infer that, because the results of an accident may be dread- ful, therefore the danger of the accident occurring at all is very great. On land a slight derangement of a rail, a slight obstacle on a track, the breaking of a wheel or of an axle, may plunge a rail- road train to frightful disaster; but we know from annual experience that, while such accidents do happen, and sometimes with appalling consequences, the cli an ce of their happening in a particular case is so remote that we disregard it. At sea, every day of every year for centuries back, a couple of hundred war-shipsto speak moderatelyhave been traversing the ocean or lying in port, like the Maine, wii~h abundance of powder on board; and for the last quarter of a century very many of these have been, and now are, essentially of the type of that unfortunate vessel. The accident that befell her, if its origin be precisely determined, may possibly impose some further precaution not hitherto taken ; but, whatever the cause may prove to have been, it is clear that the danger of such an event happen- ing is at no time great, because it is al THE SPIRIT OF MAHONGUT. 53 most, if not quite, unprecedented among the great number of war-ships now con- tinuously in service. Similarly, on the seas, the disasters to the Ville du Havre, to the Oregon, and, only three .years ago, to the Elbe, show the terrific results of collision, to which every ship crossing the ocean is liable. Collisions between ves- sels less known than those named are of weekly occurrence. Yet no general out- cry is raised against the general safety of the transatlantic liners. People un- consciously realize that, where accidents are so infrequent, the risk to themselves in the individual case is slight, though the results, when they happen, are dread- ful. Men know instinctively that the precautions taken must be practically adequate, or safety would not be the al- most universal rule which it is. It should be remembered, too, that the present battle-ship is not a sudden inven- tion, springing up in a night, like Jonahs gourd, or newly contrived by a council sitting for the purpose, like a brand-new constitution of the French Revolution. The battle-ship of to-day is the outcome of a gradual evolution extending over forty years. Its development has been governed by experience, showing defects or suggesting improvements; and the en- tire process has been superintended by men of the highest practical and scien- tific intelligence, naval architects and seamen, constantly exchanging ideas, not only with their own countrymen, but, through the scientific publications of the day, with the whole world. What Rus- kin said of the old ship of the line is still more true of the modern battle-ship: no higher exhibition of mans creative fac- ulties is probably anywhere to be found. in view, therefore, of its genesis, and of the practical results of yearly cruisings, the battle-ship in its service of peace is entitled to the confidence we give to the work of competent men in all depart- ments; nor should that confidence be withdrawn because of a single occur- rence, if the Maine prove to have fallen victim to internal accident. If, on the oth- er hand, her destruction proceeded from an external causethat is, if she fell as ships fall in warit may safely be said that, in actions between ships, no means of injury now in use on shipboard could effect the instantaneous and widespread destruction manifested in her case, un- less by a shell finding its way to her magazine. This is a remote possibility, though it exists; but when it comes to fighting, men must remember that it is not possible to make war without run- ning risks, and that it is highly improb- able that one-tenth as many seamen will die from the explosion of their own mag- azines, so occasioned, as from the direct blow of the enemys projectiles. THE SPIRIT OF 1VIAHONGUI. BY FREDERIC REMINGTON. IT is so I have called this old document, which is an extract from the memoirs of le Chevalier Bailloquet, a Frenchman living in Canada, where he was engaged in the Indian fur trade, about the middle of the seventeenth century, and as yet they are unpublished. It is written in English, since the author lived his latter life in England, having left Canada as the result of troubles with the authorities. He was captured by the Iroquois, and after living with them some time, made his escape to the Dutch. My Chevalier rambles somewhat, al- though I have been at pains to cut out extraneous matter. It is also true that many will not believe him in these days, for out of their puny volition they will analyze, and out of their discontent they will scoff. But to those I say, Go to your microbes, your statistics, your volts, and your bicycles, and leave me the truth of other days. The Chevalier was on a voyage from Quebec to Montreal; let him begin: The next day we embarqued, though not ~thout confufion, becaufe many weare not content, nor fatiffled. What a pleafure ye two fathers to fee them trott up and downe ye rocks to gett their manage into ye boat. The boats weare fo loaded that many could not proceed if foul wea- ther fhould happen. I could not perfuade myfelf to flay wth this concourfe as ye weather was faire for my journie. Wthout adoe, I gott my fix wild men to paddle on ye way. 54 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. This was a fatal embarqnation, butt I did not miffrufl that ye Iriquoits weare abroad in ye for- est, for I had been at ye Peace. Neverthelefs I find that thefe wild men doe naught butt wbat they refolve out of their bloodie mindednefs. We paffed the Point going out of ye Lake St. Peter, when ye Barbars appeared on ye watter-fide dis- charging their mufkets at us, and embarquing for our purfuit. Kohe kohe ! came nearer ye fearfome warre cry of ye Iriquoit, making ye hearts of ye poore Hurron & ifrench alike to turn to water in their breafls. a of my favages weare firook doxvne at ye firif difcharge & an other had his paddle cutt in twain, befides fhott holes through wch the watter poured apace. Thus weare we diminifhed and could not draw off. The Barbars weare daubed wth paint, wch is ye figne of warre. They coming againft our boat ifruck downe our Hurrons wth hattchetts, fuch as did not jump into the watter, where alfo they weare in no wife faved. But in my boat was a Hurron Captayne, who all his life-time had killed many Iriquoits & by his name for vallor had come to be a great Cap- tayne att home and abroad. We weare refolved fume execution & wth our gunns dealt a difcharge & drew our cuttlaffes to ifrike ye foe. They en- vironed us as we weare finking, and one fpake, faying, Brothers, cheere up and affure your- felfe you ihall not be killed; thou art botb man and Captayne, as I myfelf am, and I will die in thy defenfe. And ye afforefaid crew ihewed fuch a horrid noise, of a sudden ye Iriquoit Cap- tayne took hold about me Thou fhalt not die by another hand than mine. The favages layd bye our armes & tyed us faft in a boat, one in one boat and one in another. We proceeded up ye river, rather fleeping than awake, for I thought never to efcape. Att near funfett we weare taken on ye (bore, where ye wild men encamped bye making cottages of rind from off ye trees. They tyed ye Hurron Captayne to a trunk, he refolving muff bravely but deffparred to me, and I too defparred. Never- thelefs he fang his fatal fong though ye fire made him as one wth the ague. They tooke out his heart and cut off fome of ye fleafli of ye miferable, hoyled it and eat it. This they wilhed not to doe att this time, but that ye Hurron had been (butt wth a ball under his girdle where it was not feen, though he would have died of his defperate wound. That was the miferable end of that wretch. Whilfi they weare bufy wth ye Hurrun, they having liripped me naked, tyed me above ye el- bows, and wrought a rope about my middle. They afked me feveral queffions, I not being able to anfwer, they gave me great blows wth their fiffs, then pulled out one of my nails. Having loft all hopes, I refulved altogether to die, itt being fully to think otherwife. I could not fleep, butt was flung into a boat att daylight. The boats went all abreaft, ye wild men finging fume of their fatal fongs, others their howls of victory, ye wild Kohes, beating giens & parchments, blowing whiffles, and all manner of tumult. Thus did we proceed w~ these ravening wolves, God having delivered a Chriftian into ye power of Satan. I was nott ye only one in ye claws of thefe wolves, for we fell in wth i 50 more of thefe cruels, who had Hurron captyves to ye number of 33 victimes, wt~ heads alfue fruck on poles, of thofe who in Gods mercie weare gone from their mis- eries. As for me, I was put in a boat w~ one who had his fingers cutt & bourned. I aWed him why ye Iriquoits had broak ye Peace, and he faid they had told him ye ifrench had broak ye Peace; that ye ffrench had fet their pack of doggs on an olde Iriquuit woman who was eat up alive, & that ye Iriquoits had told ye Hurron wild men that they had killed ye doggs, alfue Hurrons and ifrench, saying that as to ye captyves, they would boyl doggs, Hurrons, and ifrench in ye fame ket- tle. A great rain arofe, ye Iriquoits going to ye watter fide did cover themfelvs w~ their boats, holding ye captyves ye meanwhile bye ropes bound about our andes, while we flood out in ye form, wch was near to caufing me death from my naked- nefs. When ye rain had abated, we purfued our way killing ftaggs, & I was given fume entrails, wch before I had only a little parched come to ye extent of my hand full. At a point we mett a gang of ye head hunters all on ye ihore, dancing about a tree to wch was tyed a fine ifrench maffiff dogg, wch was flanding on its hinder leggs, being lafbed up againfi a tree by its middle. The dogg was in a great terror, and frantic in its bonds. I knew him fur a dogg from ye fort att Mont-royal, kept for to give warnings of ye Ennemys approach. It was a firange fight for to fee ye Heathen rage about ye noble dogg, but he itt was neverthelefs wch brought ye Barbars againif us. He was only gott w0 great difficulty, having killed one Barhar, and near to ferving others likewife. They untied ye dogg, hulding him one fide and ye other, wth cords they brought and tyed him in ye bow of a boat w~ 6 warriors to paddle him. The dogg boat was ye Head, while ye reff caine on up ye river, finging fatal fongs, triumph fongs, piping, howling, & ye dogg above all wth his great noife. The Barbars weare more delight rJ2 rJ2 w 0 56 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. ed att ye captyve dogg than at all of us poore Chrifrians, for that they did fay he was no dogg. The doggs wch ye wild men have are nott fo great as wolves, they being little elfe & fmall att that. The mafriff was confidered as a confequence to be a great intereff. This one had near defeated their troupe, & now was to be horridly killed after ye bloody way of ye wild men. Att camp they weare fleep mofi of ye night, they being aweary w~ ye torture of ye Hurron Captaine previoufly. The dogg was tyed & layd nott far off from where I was alfoe tyed, butt over him weare z olde men, who guarded him of a fear he would eat away his ropes. Thefe men weare Elders or Prieffs, fuch as are efreemed for their power over fpirits, & they did keep up their devils fong ye night thro. I made a vertue of neceffity & did fleep, butt was early caft into a boat to go on toward ye En- nemys countrie, tho we had raw meat given us, wth blows on ye mouth to make us ye more quick- ly devour itt. An Iriquoit who was the Cap- tayne in our boat bade me to be of a good cour- age, as they would not hurt me. The small knowledge I had of their fpeech made a better hope, butt one who could have underfrood them would have been certainly in a great terror. Thus we journied 8 days on ye Lake Chain- plaine, where ye wind and waves did fore befet our endeavors att times. As for meate we wanted none, as we had a fore of fraggs along ye watter- fide. We killed fome every day, more for fport than for need. We finding them on Ifles, made them go into ye watter, & after we killed above a fcore, we clipped ye ears of ye refr & hung bells on them, and then lett them loofe. What a fport to fee ye refr flye from them that had ye bells! There came out of ye vafr foreft a multitude of bears, 300 at leaff together, making a horrid noife, breaking ye fmall trees. We fhott att them. butt they frirred not a frep. We weare much frightened that they frirred nott att our fhooting. The great ifrench dogg would fain encounter them notwithfranding he was tyed. He made ye watter- fide to ring wth his heavy voife, & from his eyes came flames of fyre & clouds from out his mouth. The bears did ftraightway fly, wch much cheered ye Iriquoits. One faid to me they weare refolved nott to murder ye dogg, wch was a frone-God in ye dogg fhape, or a witch, butt I could nott fully underfrand. The wild men faid they had never heard their fathers fpeak of fo many bears. When we putt ye kettle on, ye wild man who had captured me gave me of meate to eat, & told me a frory. Brother, fays he, itt is a thing to be admired to goe afar to travell. Yoti muff know that tho I am olde, I have always loved ye ifrench for their goodnefs, but they fhould have given us to kill ye Algonkins. We ffiould not warre againfr ye ifrench, butt trade wth them for Cafrors, who are better for traffic than ye Dutch. I was once a Captayne of 13 men against ye Al- tignaonanton & ye ifrench. We frayed 3 whole winters among ye Ennemy, butt in ye daytime durfr nott marche nor fray out of ye deep forefr. We killed many, butt there weare devils who took my fon up in ye air fo I could never again get him back. Thefe devils weare as bigg as hor- riniacs,* & ye little blue birds wch attend upon them faid itt was time for us to go back to our people, wch being refolved to do, we came back, butt nott of a fear of ye Ennemy. Our warre fong grew frill on our lipps, as ye fnow falling in ye forefr. I have nott any more warred to the North, until I was told by ye fpirits to go to ye ifrench & recover my fon. My friend, I have dreamed you weare my fon ; and henceforth I was not htirted nor frarved for food. We proceeded thro rivers & lakes & thro for- efrs where I was made to support burdens. When we weare come to ye village of ye Iriquoits we lay in ye woods becaufe that they would nott go into ye village in ye night time. The following day we weare marched into ye brought of ye Iriquoits. When we came in fight we heard nothing butt outcryes from one fide as from ye other. Then came a mighty hofr of people & payd great heed to ye ifrench dogg, wch was ledd bye a men, while roundabout his neck was a girdle of porcelaine. They torment- ed ye poore Hurrons wth violence, butt about me was hung a long piece of porcelaineye girdle of my captor, & he flood againfr me. In ye mean while many of ye village came about us, among wch a goode olde woman & a boy w11 a hattchett came neere me. The olde woman covered me, & ye boy took me by my hand and led mee out of ye companie. What comforted me was that I had efcaped ye blowes. They brought me into ye village, where ye olde woman showed me kind- nefs. She took me into her cottage & gave me to eat, butt my great terror took my frumack away from me. I had frayed an hour when a great companie came to fee me, of olde men wth pipes in their mouths. For a time they fat about, when they did lead me to another cabbin, wre they smoked & made me apprehend they friould throw me into ye fyre. Butt itt proved otherwife, for ye olde woman followed me, fpeaking aloud, whome they anfwered wth a loud Ho, then ffiee tooke her girdle, and about me fhe tyed itt, fo brought me to her cottage & made me to fitt downe. Then Ihe gott me Indian come toafred, & took away ye paint ye fellows had frock to my face. A * Moose. ~ Borougb. THE OMEN OF THE LITTLE BLUE BIRDS. 58 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. maide greafed & combed my haire, & ye olde wo- man danced and fung, while my father bourned tobacco on a frone. They gave me a blew cover- litt, ftockings, and Ihoes. I layed with her fon & did wit I could to get familiarity wth them, and I suffered no wrong, yet I was in a terror, for ye fatal fongs came from ye poore Hurrons. The olde man inquired whether I was Afferony, a ifrench. I affured him no, faying I was Panu- gaga, that is, of their nation, for wich he was pleafed. My father feaffed zoo men. iVIy fiffers made me clean for that purpofe, and greafed my haire. They tyed me wth z necklaces of porcelaine & garters of ye fame. My father gave me a hattchett in my hand. My father made a fpeech, fhowing many dem- onstrations of vallor, broak a kettle of cagamite with a hattchett. So they fung, as is their ufual cuffom. The banquette being over, all cryed to me Shagon, Orimba that is, Be hearty F Ev- ery one withdrew to his quarters. Here follows a long account of his daily life among the Indians, his hunt- ing, and observations which our space forbids. He had become meanwhile more familiar with the language. He goes on: My father came into ye cabbin from ye grand caffle ~ he fat him downe to fmoke. He said ye Elders had approved after much debate, & that ye ifrench dogg was not a witch, but ye great warrior Mahongui, gone before, whofe fpirit had rofe up into ye ifrench dogg & had fpyed ye ifrench. Att ye council even foe ye dogg had walked into ye centre of ye great cabbin, there faying loudly to ye Elders what he was & that he muff be heard. His voice muff be obeyed. His was not ye mock- ing cryes of a witch from under an olde snake- fkin, butt a chief come fiom Paradife to comfort his own people. My father afked me if I was agreed. I faid that witches did not battile as openly as ye dogg, butt doe their evil in ye dark. Thefe wild men are fore befet with witches and devilsmore than Chriffians, as they deferve to be, for they are of Satans own belonging. My father dreamed att night, & fang about itt, making ye fire to bourne in our cabbin. We fatt to liffen. He had mett ye ifrench dogg in ye for- eff path bye nighthe ffanding accross his way, & ye foreff was light from ye doggs eyes, who fpake to my father, faying, I belong to ye dead folksmy hattchett is ruffmy bow is mouldI can no longer battile with our Ennemy, butt I hover over you in warreI direct your arrows to their breaffsI fmoothe ye little dry fficks & wiett ye leaves under ye ffioesI draw ye morning miff accrofs to lhield youI carry ye Kohes back and fore to bring your terrorI fling afide ye foe- mans bullettsgo back and be ffrong in coun- cil. My father even in ye night drew ye Elders in ye grand cabbin. He faid what he had feen and beard. Even then the great ifrench dogg gott from ye darknefs of ye cabin, & ffrode into ye fyre. He roared enough to blow downe caffles in his might, & they knew he was faying what he had told unto my father. A great Captayne fent another night & had ye Elders for to gather at ye grande cabbin. He had been paddling his boat upon ye river when ye dogg of Mahongui had walked out on ye watter thro ye miff. He was taller than ye foreff. So he fpake, faying, Mahongui faysgo tell ye people of ye Panugaga, itt is time for wiarreye come is gath- eredye deer has changed his coatthere are no more Hurrons for me to eat. What is a Panu- gaga village wth no captyves? The young men will talk as women doe, & ye Elders will grow content to watch a fnow-bird hopp. Mahongui fays itt is time. Again att ye council fyre ye fpirit dogg ffrode from ye darknefs & faid itt was time. The tobacco was bourned by ye Prieffs. In ye fmoke ye Eld- ers beheld ye Spirit of Mahongui. Panugaga Warre. Soe my father faw ye ghoff of ye departed one. He fmoked long bye our cabbin fyre. He fang his battile fong. I afked him to goe myfelf, even wtll a hattchett, as I too was Panugaga. Butt he would in no wife liffen. You are nott meet, he fays; you faye that your God is above. How will you make me believe that he is as goode as your black coats say? They doe lie, & you fee ye contrary; ifor firff of all, ye Sun bournes us often, ye rain wetts us, ye winde makes us have ffiip- wrake,ye thunder, ye lightening bournes & kills us, & all comes from above, & you fay that itt is goode to be there. For my part, I will nott go there. Contrary they fay that ye reprobates & guilty goeth downe & bourne. They are miffaken; all is goode heare. Do nott you fee that itt is ye Earthe that nouriffies all living creatures, ye wiat ter, ye fillies & ye yus, and that come & all other fluits come up, & that all things are nott foe con- trary to us as that from above? The devils live in ye air, & they took my fon. When you fee that ye Earthe is our Mother, then you will fee that all things on itt are goode. The Earthe was made for ye Panugaga, & ye fouls of our warriors help us againff our Ennemy. The ifrench dogg is Mahon- guis fpirit. He tells mis to go~ to warre againff ye ifrench. Would a ifrench dogg doe that? Yotm are nott yett Panugaga to follow your father in warre. ri~ H 0 U H 0 0 z ri U H H THE THOLLEY IN IRURAL PARTS. BY SYLVESTER BAXTER. T HE rusticating city dweller is saunter- ing th rough sunlit meadows, stroll- ing in woodland solitudes. The country quiet fills his soul with peace. The only sounds that strike his ears are the song of birds, the chirping of insects, and, at in- tervals, the lowing of kine, the distant cries of sporting children, the barking of a dog now and thenthings that only accent the pervading calm. Snddenly he notes a faint humming in the air something strangely familiar. [t gradually grows louder, and a steady purring undertone keeps it company. Before he can realize the meaning of it all there dashes across his astonished visionflying swiftly down the rural highway or darting through the solemn woodsa sight all too common in his eyes: a gay-looking electric car in all its splendor of fresh varnish, bright letter- in g, and trimmings of nickel and brass. A sense of exasperation overcomes him. One of the citys nightmare brood has es- caped the nrban cage and pnrsned him to his resting-place. In his imagination all the rest comes following upon its heels: the heavy wagons rumbling over pave- ments, the roar and the driving rush of traffic, the whole citys overwhelming din. Is there no escape? The swish and hum of the trolley, the purring of the motor, have grown faint again and have died away in the distance the rural silence is once more absolute. It was not really disturbed; there was only a ripple in the cahn. There was no canse for alarm, after all; there is no danger that the interruption may become continnons, that it may bring other city sights and sounds in its wake. In the country the trolley-car is no more to be THE TROLLEY IN RURAL PARTS. 61 feared than is the well-groomed and styl- ish buggy that stands in the prosperous farmers carriage-house, or the group of family bicycles waiting about his door. The latter mean an assurance of good roads all through the country. The trol- ley in rural parts is another civilizing in- fluence of great significance. The claws of the monster are clipped, as it were. Afar from town its power for harm is broken. The city needs quiet; it de- mands relief from its nerve-shattering fer- ment. But the country likewise needs the quickening of sluggish blood. For the rusticating city-dweller, therefore, all sense of vexation vanishes with a realiza- tion of what the trolley means as an in- strumentality for awakening country dis- tricts from their dull life, filling them with healthy movement, mobilizing an inert population, and bringing new in- terests and fresh activities into dormant existences. The trolley is weaving over the land a finer mesh of steel within the coarser net- work formed by the steam railway, carry- ing out by a sort of village-to-village and house-to-house sh ~ ttl e- work the mission instituted by the puffing locomotive--that of substituting among men solidarity for isolation, breaking up self-centred satis- faction, self-satisfied ignorance; making communities and individualsonce mu- tuall y jealous, suspicions, distrustful, and hostileever more and more acquainted with each other, interested in each other, and consequently friendly with the grow th of understanding of others; alive to the reality of the larger world, and their parts and relations therein. A decade has worked wonders in the evolution of the electric railway, as in many other modern things. It has grown from an experiment to a universal insti- tution. It is to be found in all parts of the world. It has cheapened very ma- terially the cost of transportation. Its general utility in ordinary traffic is ri- valled in importance by its recreative uses. On perhaps a large majority of trolley hues the sum mer-excursion busi- ness is depended upon to make the under- takings profitable. The ordinary traffic may possibly pay operating expenses, but the dividends comefrom the summer trav- el. There are some highly profitable lines that run only in the summer. In the great cities, even, the summer traffic shows an enormous increase over that of winter. The open car is the phaeton, the landau, of the multitude. The business of trans- porting the l)ublic to and from the parks, the baseball and racing grounds, etc., to- gether with suburban trips and fresh-air outings, assumes enormous proportions. In the country the same lines of traffic have developed on a relatively greater scale. Thousands of women and cliil- dren, for instance, who hitherto have rarely found the oppoi-tunity to get out- side of their own door-yards, now are en- abled, at a slight outlay, to enjoy regular. weekly outings: long trips through plea- sant scenery, shopping and sight-seeing expeditions to neighboring large towns and cities, with the prospect of a theatre matinde or perhaps a popular concert; or a visit to one of the great recreation- grounds run by the street-railway com- pany, with all sorts of attractionsband concerts, variety performances, a men- agerie, swin gs, teeter-boards, roller-coast- ers, fireworks, etc. TI ese street-rail way recreation-grounds are now very nurrici-ous throughout the country. Routes are laid out to beauti- ful lakes that had been visited only by occasional fishermen or hunters, or to picturesque spots on river or sen-shore. Here delightful electric-launch ti-ips are to be had, with power obtained from the trolley wiu-e; and there are also sail-boats, row - boats, canoes, and perhaps Vene- tian gondolas. Church societies, Sunday- schools, and other organizations charter open cars for picnic trips to these places, and the going and coming are as enjoy- able featni-es of the days pleasure as the picnic itself. In these recreation-grounds we have a pecuhiaily Amei-ican variation of the German beer-garden-without the beer. The repi-oach that we take our pleasures sadly can no longer be made. The Ameu-ica.n peopleor at least a very large part of the American peoplehas become a pleasure-loving folk. Is thei-e a more festive-looking vehicle than the open electric car, with its happy-faced oc- cupants? A sort of semi-holiday aspect is imparted even to the loads of operatives on their way, morning and evening, be- tween their work in the factory towns and the country homes that so many of them have the good fortune to live in. Tb? love of iiatural scenerythe most universal of the msth etic passionsfinds a means for its gratification and cultiva- tion in the rural trolley line that only the bicycle has equalled. There are few rural highways in New England, or elsewhere in the Eastern United States, that do not pass through pleasant scenery of some kind; and the trolley lines, as a rule, fol- low the high ways. It is not long since the field of a street- railway company was confined to a single niunicipality and its immediate environ- ment. The adoption of electricity as a motive power has radically changed these conditions. The local transit system for large groups of municipalities is now coin- monly monopolized by single companies, and these companies are in turn con- trolled by great syndicates of capitalists. The ownership of all the lines in a large section of a State will thus frequently be found to reside in practically the same hands. There is aii advantage in this, for the lines thus controlled are operated in harmony, with through cars run over long distances, arid making close connec- tion with other lines. The mileage of some of these electric- rail way systems som etimes approaches that of important systems of steam rail- way. In the densely populated districts of eastern Massachusetts through cars are run hetween cities lying considerable dis- tances apait---for example, between Lynn al)d Lowell, Salem and Malden, Salem and Woburn. Through cars are also run be- tween Taunton and Nantasket Beach. by way of Bridge water and Brockton. Nan- tasket Beach is an objective point for many trolley lines in the Norfolk and Plymouth county districts southward from Boston. The New York, New Haven, and Hartford Bailroad Company has also adopted electricity for its Nan- tasket branch, with fares reduced to the trolley basis. One may now travel by trolley -car in eastern Massachusetts very long dis- tances in continuous directions. The longest continuous trip that may be mna(le is that between New Bedford, Massachu- setts, and Nashua, New Hampshire. This route takes one from the holiday shores of Buzzards Bay to Mount Hope Bay at Fall River, thence to Taunton, along the right bank of the beautiful Taunton Riv- er the greater part of the way, and thence to Boston by way of Brockton and Quincy. From Boston to Lowell there is a choice A sUNnAY-sCHOOL riexic. THE TROLLEY IN RURAL PARTS. 63 of several routes as far as Reading, by way of Lynn, of Maiden, of Medford, and Winchester, or of Cambridge and Win- chester. At Lowell the Merrimac Riv- er is crossed to the left bank, and a re- turn to the right bank is made not far from Nashua. There are also continnous trolley - car connections between Boston and Worcester and Boston and Newbury- port, the latter city being reached by plea- sant routes along the Merrimac through the Whittier country by way of Low- ell, Lawrence, and Haverhmill. These numerous long - distance routes are in such great favor with summer ex- cursionists that for the eastern Massachu- setts districts several special guide-books have been published. One of these, by a Lowell lady, is a prettily illustrated little pocket volume, with accounts of notable scenes and historic places. The charm of such excursions is next to that of a 10mm g-d istan ce carriage journey over good roads. Pilgrimages to many historic or famous spots may be taken in this way. The routes in the North Shore country from Boston to Lynn, Swampscott, Mar- blehead, Salem, Danvers, and the lovely Cape Ann and eastern Essex regions- are rich in such attractions. In 1897 there were in Massachusetts 1325 miles of electric railway, the propor- tion of mileage to time area of the State be- in~ the lar~est in the Union. The elec- tric-railway mileage in New York State, in the same year, was 1559; in Pennsyl- vania it was 1668, in Ohio 1174, and in Illinois 1113. The total electric-railway mileage in tIme United States was 13,765. In and around Greater New York the long-distance trolley lines extend beyond the Harlem, up the Hudson to Yonkers and beyond, and out on the shores of Long Island Sound in the Westchester iegion; -far out into rural Long Island from Bmooklyn; all over Staten Island; and from Jersey City and Hoboken a long way out into New Jersey. Philadelphia, Baltimore, and Washington are other centres for imnpor- tant long-distance lines. From Cleveland there are several lines from 20- to 38 miles in length, running to Akron, Painesville, Chagrin Falls,. Elyria, Lorain, and other towns. In Ohio there is also the line of the Miami Traction Companycommonly known VOL. xcVIT.INo. 577.S as the Dayton Fast Line-between Dayton and Hamilton, a distance of 38 miles. New long lines have also lately been built in Wisconsin, Pennsylvania, Illi- nois, Missouri, and New Jersey; their con- struction is so rapid that it is difficnlt to keep run of them. The competition of the trolley lines with the steam railways has become seri- ous in local traffic, but it has not yet af- fected the long-distance traffic of the lat- ter to any considerable extent. Nor does it seem likely that it will. The limita- tions of the trolley line in the way of speed are alto~ether too great, for the conditions of time highway will not admit of as rapid a pace as the steam lines are free to make. The trolley excursion busi- ness is an entirely new development in railway passenger traffic. It has been made possible only by the conditions of pure air and broad prospeels over the comm ntry from the open cars; conditions that cannot exist on tIme steam lines, with their smoke and cinders. The street - rail way companies have learned to cater to this long-distance ex- cursion traffic. For example, there was at first much annoyance from frequent changes of cars; passengers, com- fortably seated, were obliged to A THROUGH TRAVELLER. 64 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. scramble for good places when transfers were made, perhaps spoiling the rest of the trip for them. By the running of through cars this trouble is avoided. The very convenient sliding curtains now in use on the open cars, intended for rainy weather, are often the means of seriously marring the pleasure of ex not infrequently induces women to go twenty or thirty miles by trolley on a shopping expedition. The habits of the trolley-car change very materially in the country. Its ur- ban mate is commonly circumspect in its gaitsober-going and sedate. Its man- ner is guarded and reserved. It picks its way cautiously through crowded thoroughfares, and has contracted a plodding bearing. At times it seems nervous- ly apprehensive, and never really lets itself go. In the countmy, however, the trolley- car becomes another creature. When it starts from its city tei- niinal, to he sure, it is on its good behavior- maintaining a conven- tional air, with strict regard to all the pro- prieties of the street. Once at the city line, and what a change! It is like that which comes over a boy let loose from school, or a colt turned into its pasture. With cursionists. It is not uncommon for per- a zip and a whiz it darts forward, taking sons to occupy the end seats and to be so the free track with a bonnd that brings indifferent to the view, and. at the same laughter to caieworn lips and blood to time so afraid of the sunlight, that they the cheeks. Pulses beat quicker and eyes pull down the curtains to shade them- sparkle. The holiday mood of the passen- selves, unmindful that they thus efface gers is infectious; the car itself catches it. for their neighbors half of the scenery- The gong ceases its querulous clang, and and perhaps the more beautiful half. It the car rushes along at a speed that at first would be well for this use of the curtains seems a bit reckless to those accustomed to be forbidden. to the creeping pace of urban transit. The unit of fare, as a rule, is five cents, Now and then, perhaps, the highways and the charge commonly amounts to that confines are scorned in the exuberance figure between the limits of each town- of its spirit; it suddenly departs from ship through which the line passes. On the road, like a dog that spies a cat in a some lines through tickets are sold for the neighboring field, and whisks across pas- entire trip. But the usual custom is for ture-lands to take a short-cut across a the conductor to collect a nickel at stated curve made by the road that it commonly intervals. The rate on trolley lines is follows. Again, maybe, in going through much less than on steam linesperhaps a the woods, it bounds aside and plays quarter to a third lower, on the average, hide-and-seek through the trees with Cheap fares have naturally done much to the farm wagons on the road it has develop the excursion traffic. The time left, for the track makes a new right of required for these long-distance journeys wa.y for itselfa way arched by a delight- is too long to divert regular business tray- ful sylvan tunnel, where the air is sweet el to the street railways. Time is money with the resinous hreath of pine-trees. for men in a hurry. To women tinie is Again the car comes to a steam railway of less account, and the saving in fares which has jealously barred to its young THEY CALL EACH OTHER HY THEIR FRONT NA.ME5 rival the passage across. Never mind! brethren. They come from the neigh- It jumps over, clearing the obstacle by a boring country-side, and they call each leap through the air! It might be more other by their front namesAbner and accurate to say tbat it climbs a ladder, Seth, Obed and Ezekiel, or otber pr~no- very much as a cat climbs a tree, and is mens of that sort. They take a friendly on the other side in a jiffy. The ladder interest in their passengers, and are on a is a light skeleton bridge of steel, which fraternal footin~ with those who regular- Yankee ingenuity has devised for con- ly patronize the line. They know who tingencies like this. live in every house along the way, and The conductor and the motorman are all the family histories. also of types different from their city There are long pauses between fares, and SOMETIMES THE cONDUcTOR DOE5 EREANDS FOR H15 FRIENDS. 66 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. the conductor enjoys the em- ployment of his leisure mo- ments ii) point- ing out all the features of in- terest to strangers among the excursion- ists. Sometimes, in good country-neigh - boy fashion, the conductor does errands for his friends along the way. A farm- ers wife hears the trolley humming in the distance, and comes to tbe gate for the package which the conductor brings from town and tosses at liei feet as the car flies past; or a dinner-pail is taken on for somebody up the line. On the steam- railway lines it is an old custom, in some parts of New England, to give the name of huc- kleberrv train to certain accommo- dation trains that are distinguished hy a very leisure- ly gait. While the trolley-car in the country has the reverse of a lei- surely airspeed- n g its way with the nervous haste so characteristic of the centurys end yet something of the old-time mood that goes with the open high ways freedom of move- ment has been in- herited with the new conveyance. There is related a very entertaining true story of the early weeks of a trolley line built between a great shoe town in the Old Colony and a quiet village a few miles away: how an old lady who had all her life been the autocrat of the village, and who set out to take her first trip on the trolley-car which passed her door, found, after she had gone some- thing like a half mile on the way, that she had forgotten her gloves. She at once ordered the conductor t9 turn back. Accustomed, like all his fellow-villagers, to yield unquestioning obedience to com- mands from that quarter, he held a hi-ief conference with the motorman. The car then reversed its course, halted before the old ladys gate, and waited until she waddled into the house and up stairs to get her gloves out of the bureau drawer and then came back againthe other passengers, with the national docility of the American l)eople, submitting uncom- plainingly to the delay. Many excursion ists bring their lunches along on these long-distance trolley trips, A cozy LITTLE ric~ic THE TROLLEY IN RURAL PARTS. 67 sometimes eating them en route, but usu- ally choosing some pleasant spot in the woods, the fields, or by the water for the scene of a cozy little picnic. Or per- haps they resort to some nice way-side innfor touring wheelmen and the pop- ularity of carriage journeys through the countrycaused by the development of good roadshave revived the prosperity of the country tavern, with its traditional comfort and good cheer, as known in stage-coach days. It is not uncommon for parties to en- gage special cars for these long-distance excursions. In the large cities it is now a common thing for the street-railway companies to have special drawing-room cai~s, fitted with all the luxurious ap- pointments of a Pullman, to be let for special occasions, such as theatre parties from the suburbs, etc. These cars, being of the box type, are not adapted to summer excursions, the charm of which lies in the open-air character of the trip. It is the custom, therefore, to engage or- dinary open cars for this purpose, and they answer the requirements very well. With a car specially chartered there is not the annoyance from crowding so often attendant upon the regular trips, and therefore the fatigue of a long jaunt is reduced very materially. One has plenty of elbow - room and considerable freedom of movement. Seats may be reversed and space made for stretching the legs, while cushions and wraps may be spread out for comfort. An ordinary open car may temporarily and expedi- tiously be made over into a very com- fortable special car for excursion use. All that need be done is to strip it of its seats, construct some sort of a light guard at the sidessuch as a top rail, with wire netting belowspread the floor with rugs or matting, and then dispose easy-chairs about according to the number of the party, with perhaps a table in the centre. If a particularly festive appearance is wanted for the evening, additional elec- tric lamps may be put in, with Japanese lanterns suspended to enclose them. At the present rate of electric-rail way construction the principal portions of a State like Massachusetts will soon be made accessible for trolley excursions through- out its length and breadth. It will then be possible to take long holiday trips for days at a. time over these routes, visiting many points of varied interest, and mak- voL. xcvII.No. 5779 ing vacation - journeys of a delightful character. For such purposes special private cars will come into use, and Yankee ingenuity may be trusted to give vehicles of this kind a form that will make them marvels of convenience and luxury. A combination of the open and box types of car suggests itself as the proper design to be adopted for these uses. The closed portion would be re- quired for shelter in inclement weather, and for use at night. The open portion should occupy a liberal section of the car, and would be similar to the obser- vation portion of a private car for steam railways. Instead, however, of being at the rear end of the car, it would naturally occupy the front, commanding the full view ahead as the car advances. The roof of the car might also be used as a hurricane - deck. The closed portion would be fitted with all the comforts of a drawing-room, and would contain a li- brary for reading in the evening and on rainy days. Beds might easily be pro- vided, so that nights could be spent on board very comfortably. A snug kitchen, with electric cooking appliances, would be an appropriate feature. Large win- dows of plate - glass, letting down into the sides, would practically convert this part into an open section when desired. On the other hand, the open portion, closed in with wire screens to keep out mosquitoes and other insects, and also with curtains when needed, would like- wise, he available for sleeping purposes on summer nights. A hammock could be slung here, just as on the veranda of a country house. A portable siding might be provided, so that the car could be switched from the line at any place that might be selected. This.would make it possible to pass the nights in retired and pleasant spots by the way-side, with pure air and quiet surroundings. The transportation of merchandise is a feature of the long-distance trolley lines to which little attention has yet been paid, but which has great possibilities. These lines offer remarkable opportuni- ties for the development of convenient express and parcels-delivery service be- tween cities and their suburbs, and even far out into the country. Freight could also be cheaply carried in this way from town to town, and a large business might be built up in the transportation of mar- ket produce and of milk from the coun 68 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. try into the city. Platform cars might be arranged so that heavily loaded wag- ons could be taken bodily for long dis- tances at a material saving in time and expense. The relief of the highways from heavy traffic might thus be very great; it would also save the community large expenses for repairs and renewal of roads, for there would be a corresponding re- duction in the wear and tear of the way from heavy teaming and the destructive chopping action of steel horseshoes. The question as to how far the occupa- tion of the public highways by trolley lines shall be permitted to proceed is a serious one. It cannot be denied that the ordinary use of the highways is made more hazardous by this form of occu- pancy, and the tracks are often laid in such a manner as to make the cost of maintaining the roadway in good condi- tion very much greater for the public authorities. On the other hand, the in- creased convenience to the public is urged as an offset to these objections. But, with the universal tendency towards the improvement of roads, and their growing utility through the introduc- tion of new forms of vehicular transit, it would seem evident that it will be neces- sary to impose restrictions against undue encroachments upon the highways on the part of street railways. In the residential districts of some of our great cities, and in their suburbs, this difficulty has been met in an admirable manner by the adoption of the boule- vard form of highway, with a double line of roadway separated by a central re- served space, where electric-railway tracks run through a belt of well-kept turf. The development of a new and high-class res- idential quarter in Greater Boston gave the opportunity for the first example of this type of highway, in the construction of an amplification of Beacon Street. The convenience and beauty of the improve- ment were so great that several great ra- dial avenues in the metropolitan area of Greater Boston have since been laid out upon similar lines, and the example has been extensively followed elsewhere. It has been noted that occasionally an electric railway will be found departing from the highway to skirt it in adjacent fields or woods. This suggests that a universal adoption of the practice would offer a thoroughly satisfactory solution of the problem raised by threatened dan- gers from encroachment upon the high- ways. The boulevard form of construc- tion is, of course, too costly for general adoption away from the vicinities of large cities. The foregoing expedient, however, would provide an economical and thoroughly practical modification of the boulevard idea, adapting it to rural conditions. Land in rural districts is so cheap, as a rule, that it should be easy to obtain a strip adjacent to the highway along the greater portions of the routes desired for railway purposes, sufficient for the accommodation of the tracks. In view of the advantages gained from the relief of the highway, this strip might well be taken under the right of eminent domain, being considered as a part of the highway reserved for railway purposes. The cost of grading and construction would be so much less, in most instances, than in the roadway that the projectors of the railway could well afford the out- lay for this strip, which would also con- fer the advantages of greater attractive- ness for passengers by reason of increased speed, diminished dust, and a pleasanter environment. The lawnlike treatment of the road-bed on boulevarded lines pre- vents the dust nuisance, and also reduces noise. It would be hardly practicable to treat the road-bed in this fashion on rural lines, even where the railway has its own right of way. But it is now the custom to ballast very thoroughly the track of an electric railway in the country, and this reduces the trouble from dust in a highly gratifying degree. It has lately been discovered that by sprinkling the road - bed with crude petroleum once or twice in a season the great annoyance from dust on a steam railway can be en- tirely overcome. The same treatment should also prove effective on the rural trolley lines. The great expansion and consolidation of these electric lines throughout the country has, in a measure, complicated the question of public ownership of street railways, in behalf of which a powerful agitation has developed in recent years. When street railways comprised but a few miles of horse-car routes within the limits of a city or town, and were design- ed exclusively for local accommodation, the problem of municipal ownersl]ip of such enterprises was relatively simple. But with the growth and unification of these lines into great systems, providing THE TROLLEY IN RURAL PARTS. 6~J interurban and rural transit facilities over large territories, they appear to have transcended the scope of purely munici- pal ownership and operation. If they are to come into public hands, it would seem that the controlling authority must be either vested directly in the State itself, or intrusted to some larger administra- tive entity than the municipalities; such as the counties, perhaps, or specially con- stituted local -transit districts formed of groups of municipalities that would nat- urally have common interests in local transportation. It is noteworthy that municipal groups of this kind were contemplated in a bill advocated by the Citizens Committee for the Municipal Ownership of Street-Rail- ways, in a strong presentation of the case before the Massachusetts Legislature. A feature of this bill is the authorization of municipal street-railway companies in which cities and towns are share- holders, being represented upon the board of directors in proportion to their respect- ive holdings. Communities throughout the country have, as a rule, been so eager to secure tl~ e con veniences of street-railway tran s- portation that they have recklessly given away to private corporations the use of their highways for these purposes. This has commonly been done with few or no restrictions, and often indefinitel v. For- tunately there has lately been aroused a keener public sense of the value of these franchises, and it is not uncommon now for the corporations themselves to offer compensation for the privileges, while in the communities there is a growin~, dispo- sition to insist upon favorable terms for the public, and to hold to a strict account- ability the authorities who, under corrupt influence, are too ready to sacrifice the public rights intrusted to their guardian- ship. Can the rights and values that have thus been heedlessly thrown away or corruptly sacrificed ever be recovered? With a growing sense of their greater worth when held in public hands, and with the increasingly frequent demon stra- tions of the practicability and economy of public ownership and operation, it is likely that communities will more and more insist upon their restoration. Cost- ly as the exercise of the right of public domain might be,when not duly provided for by conditions imposed in the giving of the franchises, it will doubtless be re- sorted to. One method of recovery that has been suggested prescribes conditions that ap- pear to be alike favorable to the public and to private interests in the properties. This method would substitute for the bonds and stock of the private corpora- tions owning the lines bonds bearing a municipal or State guarantee, while addi- tions to the capitalization made to provide for extensions and improvements would also be made by the issue of such bonds. The accumulation of a sinking - fund would provide fom~ the redemption of these bonds upon their maturity, and the prop- erty would pass into the possession of the public without the expenditure of a dollar on the part of the latter. Mean while the management would reside in a board of directors, one half of whom would repre- sent the owners of the securities, and the other half the public interest. Since pub- lic securities have a market value much higher than those of private corporations the exchange would be manifestly to the advantage of the owners of the proper- ties. On the.side of the public there would be a great economy in the loxver rate of interest at which public securities can he issued. Another great economy would lie in the saving of the enormous expen- ditures for legal expenses, fancy salaries and legislative influence, which are pro- lific sources of outgo in the finances of pri- vate corporations. This method is the same as that adopted by the city of Springfield, Illinois, in rela- tion to its lighting service. By this course it will, in a comparatively few years acquire without cost a fully equipped mu- nicipal plant for electric lighting. Pri- vate capital finds it profitable to pay for a limited franchise on these terms. The fact that the city of Melbourne, Australia, will by a similar arrangement, obtain pos- session of its street railways without cost, indicates that the method is equally ap- plicable to street-railway conditions in general. A TOAST. BY FRANCIS JAMES MACBEATH. ffiO the Crystal of Desire I-To the Wheel of Mystic Birth, Child of the Mine and Fire, Drink, Riders of the Earth! To the hum of the whirring wire In the rush of the air disturbed; To the purr of the spurning tiie, And the speed of the steed uncurbed. To the stroke of the corded muscle, And the rise of the warming thigh; To the lift and drop of the hills we top, And the woodlands rolling by. To the deep exhilaration, To the brawn, and the touch that guides; To the freedom of creation The world is his who rides. To the spindrift mists of morning, To noon, of the golden light; To the tints that fade, and the mystic shade, To the Moon, and the mottled night. To the air, to the winds that buffet, And the will to which they bend; To life, and the way we rough it, To the roads that never end. To the vilest and the velvet, To the wind-flung leaves we toss; To the birds that race at a breathing pace, And the bird that darts across! To a joy beyond dimensions, To a pleasure never old; To the Prince of all Inventions, To the steel worth more than gold. We, Heirs of an Age of Science, With leaping Life shall ride, From the purple dawn of manhood, on To the ebbing eventide. A Toast to the Child of Fire, To the Wheel of Mystic Birth, To the End of all Desire Drink, Riders of the Earth! RODENS CORNER.* BY HENRY SETON MERRIMAN. CHAPTER XXI. A COMBINED FORCE. Hear, but be faithful to your interest still. Secure your heart, then fool with whom you will. RS. VANSITTART walked to the L~t gate of the INlalgamite works, think- ing that Von Hoizen was following her on the noiseless sand. At the gate, which the porter threw open on seeing her ap- proach, she turned and found that she was alone. Von Hoizen was walking quietly back towards the factory. He was so busy making his fortune that he could not give Mrs. Vansittart more than a few minutes. She bit her lip as she went towards her horse. Neglect is no balm to the wounds of the defeated. She mounted her horse and looked at her watch. It was nearly five oclock, and Percy iRoden was doubtless waiting for her in Park Straat. It is a womans business to know what is expected of her. Mrs. Vansittart recalled in a very matter- of-fact way the wording of her letter to Roden. She brushed some dust from her habit, and made sure that her hair was tidy. Then she fell into deep thought, and set her mind in a like order for the work that lay before her. A mans deep- est schemes in love are childs play beside the womans schemes that meet or frus- trate his own. Mrs. Vansittart rode rap- idly home to Park Straat. Mr. Roden, the servant told her, was awaiting her return in the drawing-room. She walked slowly up stairs with a queer smile. Some victories are only to be won with arms that hurt the bearer. Mrs. Van- sittarts mind was warped, or she must have known that she was going to pay too dearly for her revenge. She was sacri- ficing invaluable memories to a paltry hatred. Ah! she said to Roden, whose man- ner betrayed the recollection of her invi- tation to him. So I have kept you wait- inga minute. perhaps, for each day that you have staid away from Park Straat. IRoden laughed, with a shade of embar- rassinent, which she was quick to detect. Is it your sister, she asked, who has induced you to stay away? Dorothy has nothing but good to say of you, he answered. Then it is Herr von Holzen, said Mrs. Vansittart, laying aside her gloves and turning towards the tea table. She spoke quietly and rather indifferently, as one does of persons who are removed by a social grade. I have never told you, I believe, that I happen to know something of yourwhat is he?your foreman. He has probably warned you against me. My husband once employed this Von Holzen, and was, I believe, robbed by him. We never knew the man socially, and I have always suspected that he bore us some ill feeling on that account. You remember in this room, when you brought him to call soon after your works were built that lie referred to having met my husband. Doubtless with a view to finding out how much I knew, or if I was in reality the wife of Charles Vansittart. But I did not choose to en- lighten him. She had poured out tea while she spoke. Her hands were un- steady still, and she drew down the sleeve of her habit to hide the discolor- ation of her wrist. She turned rather suddenly and saw on Rodens face the confession that it had been due to Von Holzens influence that he had absent- ed himself from her drawing - room. However, she said, with a little laugh, and in a final voice, as if~ dismissing a subject of small importance how- ever, I suppose Herr von Holzen is rising in the world, and has the sensitive vanity of persons in that trying condition She sat down slowly, remembering her pretty figure in its smart habit. Rodens slow eyes noted the pretty figure also, which she observed, one may be sure. Tell me your news, she said. You look tired and ill. It is hard work mak- ing ones fortune. Be sure that you know what you want to buy before you make it, or afterwards you may find that it has not been worth while to have worked so hard. * Begun in January number, 1898. 72 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. Perhaps what I want is not to be bought, he said, with his eyes on the carpet. For he was an awkward player at this light game. Ah ! she exclaimed. Then it must be either worthless or priceless. He looked at her, but he did not speak, and those who are quick to detect the fleeting shade of pathos might have seen it in the glance of the tired eyes. For Percy Roden was only clever as a finan- cier, and women have no use for such clevernessonly for the results of it. Ro- den was conscious of making no prog- ress with Mrs. Vansittart, who handled him as a cat handles a disabled mouse while watching another hole. You have been busier than ever, I suppose, she said, since you have had no time to remember your friends. Yes, answeied Roden, brightening. He was so absorbed in the most absorb- ing and lasting employment of which the human understanding is capable that he could talk of little else, even to Mrs. Van- sittart. Yes, we have been very busy, and are turning out nearly ten tons a day now. And we have had trouble from a quarter in which we did not expect it. Von Holzen has been much worried, I know, though he never says anything. He may not be a gentleman, Mrs. Van- sittart, but he is a wonderful man. Ah ! said Mrs. Vansittart, indifferent- ly, and something in her manner made him all the more desirous of explaining his reasons for associating himself with a person who, as she had subtly and flat- teringly hinted more than once, was far beneath him from a social point of view. This desire rendered him less guarded than it was perhaps wise to be under the circumstances. Yes, he is a very clever mana gen- ius, I think. He rises to each difficulty without any effort, and every day shows me new evidence of his foresight. He has done more than you think in the Malgamite works. His share of the work has been greater than anybody knows. I am only the financier, you understand. I know about bookkeeping and about moneyhow it should be handledthat is all. You are too modest, I think, said Mi-s. Vansittart, gravely. You forget that the scheme was yours; you forget all that you did in London. Yeswhile Von Holzen was doing more here. He had the more difficult task to perform. Of course I did my share in getting the thing up. It would be foolish to deny that. I suppose I have a head on my shoulders, like other people. And Mr. Percy Roden, with his hand at his mustache, smiled a somewhat fat- uous smile. He thought, perhaps, that a woman will love a man the more for be- ing a good man of business. Yes, said Mrs.Vansittart, softly. But I should like Von Holzen to have his due, said Roden, rather grandly. He has done wonders, and no one quite realizes thatexcept, perhaps, Cornish. Indeed! Does Mr. Cornish give Herr von Holzen his due, then? Corn ish does his best to upset Von Holzens plans at every turn. He does not understand business at all. When that sort of man goes into business he in- variably gets into trouble. He has what I suppose he calls scruples. It comes, I imagine, from not having been brought up to it. Roden spoke rather hotly. He was of a jealous disposition, and disliked Mrs. Vansittarts attitude to wards Cornish. But he is no match for Von Holzen, he continued, as he will find, to his cost. Von Holzen is not the sort of man to stand any kind of intei~ference. Ah? said Mrs. Van~ittart again, in the slightly questioning and indifferent manner with which she received all de- fence of Otto von Holzen, and which had the effect of urging Roden to further ex- planation. He is not a man I should care to cross, myself, he said, determined to se- cure Mrs. Vansittarts full attention. He ha~ the whole of the Malgamiters at his beck and call, and is pretty power- ful, I can tell you. They are a desperate set of fellows: men engaged in a danger- ous industry do not wear kid gloves. Mrs. Vansittart was watching him across the low tea table; for Roden rarely looked at his interlocutor. He had more of her attention than he perhaps sus- pected. Ah ! she said, rather more indlffer- ently than before. I think you exag- gerate Herr von Holzens importance in the world. I do not exaggerate the danger into which Cornish will run if he is not care- ful, retorted Roden, half sullenly. There was a ring of anxiety in his voice. Mrs. Vansittart glanced sharply RODENS CORNER. 73 at him. It was borne in upon her that Roden himself was afraid of Von Hoizen. This was more serious than it had at first appeared. There are periods in every mans history when human affairs sud- denly appear to become unmanageable, and the course of events gets beyond any sort of controlwhen the hand at the helm falters, and even the managing female of the family hesitates to act. Roden seemed to have reached such a crisis now, and Mrs. Vansittart, charm she never so wisely, could not brush the frown of anxiety from his brow. He was in no mood for love-making, and men cannot call up this fleeting humor, as a woman can, when it is wanted. So they sat and talked of many things, both glancing at the clock with a surreptitious eye. They were not the first man and woman to go hunting Cupid with the best will in the worldonly to draw a blank. At length Roden rose from his chair with slow, lazy movements. Physically and morally he seemed to want tighten- ing up. I must go back to the works, he said. We work late to-night. Then do not tell Herr von Holzen where you have been, replied Mrs. Van- sittart, with a warning smile. Then, on the threshold,with a gravity and a glance that sent him away happy, she added, I do not want you to discuss me with Otto von Holzen, you understand ! She stood with her hand on the bell, looking at the clock, while he went down stairs. The moment she heard the street door closed behind him she rang sharply. The brougham, she said to the ser- vant, at once. Ten minutes later she was rattling down Maurits Kade towards the Villa des Dunes. A deep bank of clouds had risen from the west, completely obscuring the sun, so that it seemed already to be twi- light. Indeed nature itself appeared to be deceived, and as the carriage left the town behind and emerged into the sandy quiet of the suburbs, the countless spar- rows in the lime-trees were preparing for the night. The trees themselves were shedding an evening odor, while from canal and dike and ditch there arose that subtle smell of damp weed and grass which hangs over the whole of Holland all night. The place smells of calamity, said Mrs. Van sittart to herself as she quitted the carriage and walked quickly along the sandy path to the Villa des Dunes. Dorothy was in the garden, and .seeing her, came to the gate. Mrs. Vansittai~t had changed her riding-habit for one of the dark silks she usually wore, but she had forgotten to put on any gloves. Come, she said, rapidly, taking Dor- othys hand and holding itcome to the seat at the end of the garden where we sat one evening when we dined alone together. I do not want to go in-doors. I am nervous, I suppose. I have allowed myself to give way to panic like a child in the dark. I felt lonely in Park Straat, with a house full of servants, so I came to you. I think there is going to be a thun- der-storm, said Dorothy. And Mrs. Vansittart broke into a sud- den laugh. I knew you would say that. Be- cause you are modern and practicalor, at all events, you show a practical face to the world, which is better. Yes, one may say that much for the modern girl, at all events-she keeps her head. As to her heart well, perhaps she has not got one. Perhaps not, admitted Dorothy. They had reached the seat now, and sat down beneath the branches of a weep- ing-willow, trimly trained in the accurate Dutch fashion. Mrs. Vansittart glanced at her companion and gave a little, low, wise laugh. I did well to come to you, she said, for you have not many words. You have a sense of humorthat saving sense which so few people possessand I sus- pect you to be a person of action. I came in a panic, which is still there, but in a modified degree. One is always more nervous for ones friends than for ones self. Is it not so? It is for Tony Cornish that I fear. Dorothy looked steadily straight in front of her, and there was a short si- lence. I do not know why he stays in Hol- land, and I wish he would go home, continued Mrs. Vansittart. It is un- reasoning, I know, and foolish, but I am convinced that he is running into dan- ger. She stopped suddenly, and laid her hand upon Dorothys; for she had caught many foreign ways and gestures. 74 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. Listen, she said, in a lower tone. It is useless for you and me to mince matters. The Malgamite scheme is a terrible crime, and Tony Cornish means to stop it. Surely you and I have long suspected that. I know Otto von Hol- zen. He killed my husband. He is a most dangerous man. He is attempting to frighten Tony Cornish away from here, and he does not understand the sort of person he is dealing with. One does not frighten persons of the stamp of Tony Cornish, whether man or woman. I have made Tony promise not to leave his rooms to-day. For to-morrow I cannot answer. You understand ? Yes, answered Dorothy, with a sud- den light in her eyes, I understand. Your brother must take care of him- self. I care nothing for Lord Ferriby or any others concerned in this, but only for Tony Cornish, for whom I have an affection, for he was part of my past life when I was happy. As for the Mal- gamiters, they and their works maygo hang ! And Mrs. Vansittart snapped her fingers. Do you know Major White? she asked, suddenly. Yes; I have seen him once So have I only once. But for a woman once is often enoughis it not so?to enable one to judge. I wish we had him here. He is coming, answered Dorothy. I think he is coming to-morrow. When I saw Mr. Cornish yesterday, he told me that he expected him. I believe he wrote for him to come. He also wrote to Mr. Wade, the banker, asking him to come. Then he found things worse than he expected. He has, in a sense, sent for re- enforcements. When does Major White arrivein the morning? No; not till the evening. Then he comes by Flushing, said Mrs. Vansittart, practically. You are thinking of something. What is it? I was wondering how I could see some of the Malgamite-workers to-mor- row. I know some of them, and it is from them that the danger may be ex- pected. They are easily led, and Herr von Holzen would not scruple to make use of them. Ah I said Mrs.Vansittart, you have guessed that, too. I have more than guessed itI know it. You must see these men tomorrow. I will, answered Dorothy, simply. Mrs. Vansittart rose and held out her hand. Yes, she said, I came to the right person. You are calm, and keep your head; as to the other, perhaps that is in safe-keeping too. Good-night, and come to lunch with me to-morrow. ~ CHAPTER XXII. GRATITUDE. On se gu~rit de Ia bietif~~isance par Ia connais- sance de ceux quon oblige. CAN you tell me if there is a moon to-night? Mrs. Vansittart asked a porter in the railway station at the Hague. The man stared at her for a moment, then realized that the question was a serious. one. I will ask one of the engine-drivers, my lady, he answered, with his hand at the peak of his cap. It was past nine oclock, and Mrs. Van sittart had been waiting nearly half an hour for the Flushing train. Her car- riage was walking slowly up and down beneath the glass roof of the entrance to the railway station. -She had taken a. ticket in order to gain access to the plat form, and was almost alone there with the porters. Her glance travelled back- wards and forwards between the clock and the western sky, visible beneath the great arch of the station. The evening was a clear one, for the month of June still lingered, but the twilight was at. hand. The Flushing train was late to- night of all nights, and Mrs. Vansittart stamped her foot with impatience. What was worse, was Dorothy Rodens lateness. Dorothy and Mrs. Vansittart, like tw& generals on the eve of a battle, had been exchanging hurried notes all day; and. Dorothy had promised to meet Mrs. Van- sittart at the station on the arrival of th& train. The moon is rising now, my ladya half-moon, said the porter, approaching with that leisureliness which character- izes railway porters between trains. Why does your stupid train not come? asked Mrs. Vansittart, with un- reasoning anger. It has been signalled, my ladya few minutes now. Mrs. Vansittart gave a quick sigh of relief and turned on her heel. - She had long been unable to remain quietly in one place. She saw Dorothy coming up the slope to the platform. At last mat- ters were taking a turn for the better tinned Dorothy. It is no good think- except, indeed, Dorothys face, which was ing of etiquette nowor pretending set and white. No said Mrs. Vansittart, hurriedly, I have found out something, she so that the sentence was never finished. said at once, and speaking quickly but I found nothing except two torn en- steadily. It is for to-night, between velopes in the waste-paper basket. One half past nine and ten. in an uneducated handperhaps feigned. She had her watch in her hand, and The other was Otto von Holzens writing. compared it quickly with the station Ah! In Otto von Holzens writing clock as she spoke. addressed to Tony at the Zwaan at I have secured Uncle Ben, she said Scheveningen? all the ridicule of the name seemed to Yes. have vanished long ago. He is drunk, Then Otto von Holzen knows where and therefore cunnin~,. It is only when Tony is staying, at all events. We have he is sober that he is stupid. I have him learnt something. You have kept the in a cab downstairs, and have told your envelopes? man to watch him. I have been to Mr. Yes. Cornishs rooms again, and he has not They both turned at the rumble of the come in. He has not been in since morn- train outside the station. The greaten- ing, and they do not know where he is. gine came clanking in over the points, No one knows where he is. its lamp glaring like the eye of some Dorothys lip quivered for a moment, monster. and she held it with her teeth. Mrs. Provided Major White is in the Yansittart touched her arm lightly with train, muttered Mrs. Vansittart, tapping her gloved fingersa strange, quick, wo- on the pavement with her foot. If he mans gesture. is not in the train, Dorothy? I went up stairs to his rooms con- Then we must go alone. VOL. xcVII.No. 5710 THE PLACE 5MELL5 OF CALAMITY. 76 HARPER~S NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. Mrs. Vansittart turned and looked her slowly up and down. You are a brave woman, she said, thoughtfully. But Major White was in the train, being a man of his word in small things as well as in great. They saw him push- ing his way patiently through the crowd of hotel porters and others who had ad- vice or their services to offer him. Then lie saw Mrs. Vansittart and Dorothy, and recognized them. Give your luggage ticket to the hotel porter and let him take it straight to the hotel. You are wanted elsewhere. Still Major White was only in his nor- mal condition of mild and patient sur- prise. He had only met Mrs. Vansittart twice, and Dorothy as often. He did ex- actly as he was told without asking one of those hundred questions which would inevitably have been asked by many men and more women under such circu in- stances, and followed the ladies out of the crowd. We must talk here, said Mrs. Van- sittart. One cannot do so in a carriage in the streets of the Hague. Major White bowed gravely and looked from one to the other. He was rather travel-worn, and seemed to be feeling the heat. Tony Cornish has probably written to you about his discoveries as to the Malgamite works. We have no time to go into that question, however, said Mrs. Vansittart, who was already beginning to be impatient with this placid man. He has earned the enmity of Otto von Hol- zena man who will stop at nothing and the Malgamiters are being raised against him by Von Holzen. Our infor- mation is very vague, but we are almost certain that an attempt is going to be made on Tonys life to-night between half past nine and ten. You understand? Mrs. Vansittart almost stamped her foot. Oh yes, answered White, looking at the station clock. Twenty minutes time. We have the information from one of the Malgamiters themselves, who knows the time and the place, but he is tipsy. He is in a carriage outside the station. How tipsy? asked Major White, and both his hearers shrugged their shoulders. How can we tell you that? snapped Mrs. Vansittart, and Major White dropped his glass from his eye. Where is your brother? he said, turn- ing to Dorothy. He was evidently rather afraid of Mrs. Vansittart, as a quick- spoken person not likely to have patience with a slow man. He has gone to Utrecht, answered Dorothy. And Mr. Von Holzen is not at the works, which are locked up. I have just come from there. By a lucky chance I met this man Ben, and have brought him here. White looked at Dorothy thoughtful- ly, and something in his gaze made her change color. Let me see this man, he said, mov- ing towards the exit. He is in that carriage, said Dorothy, when they had reached a quiet corner of the station-yard. You must be quick. We have only a quarter of an hour now. He is an Englishman. White got into the cab with Uncle Ben, who appeared to be sleeping, arid closed the door after him. In a few mo- ments he emerged again. Tell the man to drive to a chemists he said to Mrs. Vansittart. The fellow is not so bad. I have got something out of him, and will get more. Follow in your carriageyou and Miss Roden. It was Major Whites turn now to take the lead, and Mrs. Vansittart meekly obeyed, though Whites movements were so leisurely as to madden her. At the chemists shop, White descended from the carriage and appeared to have some language in common with the drug- gist, for he presently returned to the car- riage carrying a tumbler. After a mo- ment he went to the window of Mrs. Van- sittarts neat brougham. I must bring him in here, lie said. You have a pair of horses which look as if they could go. Tell your man to drive to the pumping-station on the dunes, wherever that may be. - Then he went and fetched Uncle Ben whom he brought by one arm, in a dislo- cated condition, trotting feebly to keep pace with the Majors long stride. Mrs. Vansittarts coachman must have received very decided orders, for he skirt- ed the town at a rattling trot, and soon emerged from thie streets into the quiet of the wood, which was dark and desert- ed. Here, in a sandy and lonely alley, he put the horses to a gallop. The car- riage swayed and bumped. Those inside exchanged no words. From time to time RODENS CORNER. 77 Major White shook Uncle Ben, which s~eined to be a part of his strenuous treat- men t. At length the carriage stopped on the narrow road, paved with the little bricks they make at Gouda, that leads from Scheveningen to the pumping-station on the dunes. Major White was the first to quit it, dragging Uncle Ben unceremoni- ously after hini. Then, with his disen- gaged hand, he helped the ladies. He screwed his glass tightly into his eye and looked round him with a measuring glance. This place will be as light as day. lie said, when the moon rises from be- hind those trees. He drew Uncle Ben aside, and talked with him for some time in a low voice. The man was almost sober now, but so weak that he could not stand without assistance. Major White was an advo- cate, it seemed, of heroic measures. He appeared to be asking many questions, for Uncle Ben pointed fi~om time to time with an unsteady hand into the darkness. When his mind, muddled with Malga- mite and drink, failed to rise to the occa- sion, Major White shook him like a sack. After a few minutes conversation Ben broke down completely, and sat against a sand bank to weep. Major White left him there and went towards the ladies. Will you tell your man, he said to Mrs. Vansittart, to drive back to the junction of the two roads and wait there under the trees? He paused, looking dubiously from one to the other. And you and Miss Roden had better go back with him and stay in the carriage. No, said Dorothy, quietly. Oh no ! added Mrs. Vansittart. And Major White moistened his lips with an air of patient toleration for the ways of a sex which had ever been far beyond his comprehension. It seems, lie said, when the carriage had rolled away over the noisy stones, that we are in good time. They do not expect him until nearly ten. He has been attempting for some time to get the men to refuse to work, and these same men have written to ask him to meet them at the works at ten oclock, when Roden is at Utrecht, atid Von Hoizen is out. There is no question of reaching the works at all. They are going to lie in ambush in a hollow of the dunes and knock him on the head about half a mile from herenorth east and MajorWhite paused in this great conversational effort to consult a small gold compass attached to his watch-chain. The two women waited patiently. Fine place, these dnnes~ said the Major, after a pause. Could conceal three thousand men between here and Schieveningen. But it is not a question of hiding so]- diers, said Mrs. Varisittart, sharply, with a movement of tIme head indicative of su- prerne contempt. No, admitted White. Better hide ourselves, perhaps. No good standing here where everybody can see us. Ill fetch our friend. Think hell sleep if we let him. Chemist gave him enough to kill a horse. But havent you any plans ? asked Mrs. Van sittart, in despair. What are you going to do? You are not going to let these brutes kill Tony Cornishi? Sure- ly you, as a soldier, must know how to meet this crisis. Oh yes. Not much of a soldier, you know, answered White, soothiiigly, as he moved away towards Uncle Ben. But I think I kiiow how this business ought to be managed. Come alonghide oursel veK He led the way across the dunes, drag- ging Uncle Ben by one arm, and keeping in the hollows. The two women followed in silence on the silent sand. The band at the Kurhians at Schieveningen was in full blast, and the sound of certain time- keeping instruments reached them as they walked towards the northeast. Once Major White paused and looked back. ~Dont talk, he said, holding up a large fat hand in a ridiculous gesture of warning which lie must have learnt in the nursery. He looked like a large baby listening for a bogie in the chimney. Once or twice lie consulted Uncle Ben, and as often glanced at his compass. There was a certain skill in his attitude an.d demeanor, as if lie knew exactly what he was about. Mrs.Vansittart had a hun- dred questions to ask him, but they died on her lips. The moon rose suddenly over the distant trees and flooded all the sand hills with light. Major White halt- ed his little party in a deep hollow, and consulted Uncle Ben in whispers. Then bidding him sit down, he left the three alone in their hiding-place and went away z C C RODENS CORNER. 79 by himself. He climbed almost to the summit of a neighboring mound, and stopped suddenly, with his face uplifted, as if smelling something. Like many short - sighted persons, he had a keen scent. In a few minutes he came back again. I have found them, he whispered to Mrs. Vansittart and Dorothy. Smelt emlike sealing-wax. Eleven of them waiting there for Cornish, and he smiled with a sort of boyish glee. What are you going to do ? whis- pered Mrs. Vansittart. Thump them, he answered, and presently went back to his post of obser- vation. Uncle Ben had fallen asleep, and the two women stood side by side waiting in the moonlight. It was chilly, and a keen wind swept in from the sea. Dorothy shivered. They could still hear certain notes of certain instruments in the band of the Scheveningen Kurhaus, nearly two miles away. It was strange to be within sound of such evidences of civilization, and yet in such a lonely spotstrange to reflect that eleven men were waiting within a few yards of them to murder one. And yet they could safe- ly have carried out their intention, and have scraped a hole in the sand to hide his body, in the certainty that it would never be found; for these dunes are a miniature Desert of Sahara, where no- thing bids men leave the beaten paths, where certain hollows have probably never been trodden by the foot of man, and where the ever-drifting sand slowly accumulatesa very abomination of des- olation. At length White rose to his feet agilely enough, and crept to the brow of the dune. The men were evidently moving. Mrs. Vansittart and Dorothy ascended the bank to the spot just vacated by White. Only a few dozen yards away they could see the black forms of the Malga- miters grouped together under the covert of a low hillock. Hidden from their sight, Major White was slowly stalking them. Dorothy touched Mrs. Vansittarts arm, and pointed silently in the direction of Scheveningen. A man was approaching, alone, across the silvery sand hills. lit was Tony Cornish, walking into the trap laid for him. Major White saw him also, and thinking himself unobserved, or from mere habit acquired among his men, he VOL. XCVII.No. 577.I 1 moistened the tips of his fingers at his lips. The Malgamiters moved forward, and White followed them. They took up a position in a hollow a few yards away from the foot-path by which Cornish must pass. One of their number remained behind, crouching on a mound, and evi- dently reporting progress to his compan- ions below. When Cornish was within a hundred yards of the ambush, White suddenly ran up the bank, and lifting this man bodily, threw him down among his comrades. He followed this vigorous attack by charging down into the con- fused mass. In a few moments the Mal- gamiters streamed away across the sand hills like a pack of hounds, though pur- sued and not pursuing. They left some of their number on the sand behind them, for White was a hard hitter. Give it to them, Tony ! White cried, with a certain ring of exultation in his voice. Knock em down as they come I For there was only one path, and the Malgamiters hind to run the gauntlet of Tony Cornish, who knocked some of them over neatly enough as they passed, select- ing the big ones, and letting the others go free. He knew them by the smell of their clothes, and guessed their intention readily enough. It was a strange scene, and one that left the two women, watching it, breath- less and eager. Oh, I wish I were a man! exclaimed Mrs. Vansittart, with clenched fists. They hurried toward Cornish and White, who were now alone on the path. White had rolled up his sleeve, and was tying his handkerchief round his arm with his other hand and his teeth. It is nothing, he said. One of the devils had a knife. Must get my sleeve mended to-morrow. CHAPTER xxiii. A RE-ENFORCEMENT. Prends moy telle que je soy. WHEN Major White came down to breakfast at his hotel the next morning, lie found the large room deserted and the windows thrown open to the sun and the garden. He was selecting a table, when a step on the veranda made him look up. Standing in the window, framed, as it were, by sunshine and trees was Mar- guerite Wade, in a white dress, with de 80 HARPER$ NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. inure lips, and the complexion of a wild rose. She was the incarnation of youth of that spring-time of life of which the sight tugs at the strings of older hearts; for surely that is the only part of life which is really and honestly worth the living. Marguerite came forward and shook hands gravely. Major Whites left eye- brow quivered for a moment in indica- tion of his usual mild surprise at life and its changing surface. Feeling pretty bobbish ? inquired Marguerite, earnestly. Whites eyebrow went right up and his glass fell. Fairly bobbish, thank you, he answered, looking at her with stupen- dous gravity.. You look all right, you know. You should never judge by appear- ances, said White, with a fatherly sever- ity. Marguerite pursed up her lips and look- ed his stalwart frame up and down in silence. Then she suddenly lapsed into her most confidential manner, like a schoolgirl telling her bosom friend, for the moment, all the truth and more than the truth. You are surprised to see me here; thought you would be, you know. I knew you were in the hotelsaw your boots outside your door last nightknew they must be yours. You went to bed very early. I have two pair of boots, replied the Major, darkly. Well, to tell you the truth, I have brought papa across. Tony wrote for him to come, and I knew papa would be no use by himself, so I came. I told you long ago that the Malgamite scheme was up a gum-tree, and that seems to be pre- cisely where you are. Precisely. And soT have come over,and papa and I are going to put things straight. I shouldnt, if I were you. Shouldnt what? inquired Margue- rite. Shouldnt put other peoples affairs straight. It does not pay, especiall v if other people happen to be up a gum-tree make yourself all sticky, you know. Marguerite looked at him doubtfully. Ah ! she said. Thats whatis it? Thats what, admitted Major White. That is the difference, I suppose, be- tween a man and a woman, said Mar- guerite, sitting down at a small table where breakfast had been laid for two. A man looks on at things goingwell, to the dogsand smokes and thinks it isnt his business. A woman thinks the whole world is her business. So it is, in a senseit is her doing, at all events. Marguerite had turned to beckon to tl)e waiter, and she paused to look back over her shoulder with shrewd, clear eyes. Ah ! she said, mystically. Then she addressed herself to the waiter, calling him Kelluer, and speaking to him in German, in the full assurance that it would be his native tongue. I have told him, she explained to White, to bring your little coffee-pot and your little milk-jug and your little pat of butter to this table. So I understood. Ah! Then you know German? in- quired Marguerite, with another doubtful glance. I get twopence a day extra pay for knowing German. Marguerite paused in her selection of a breakfast roll from a silver basket con- taining that Continental choice of breads which look so different and taste so much alike. Seems to me, she said,confidentially, that you know more than you appear to know. Not such a fool as I look, in fact. That is about the size of it, admitted Marguerite, gravely. Tony always says that the world sees more than any one suspects. Perhaps lie is right. And both happening to look up at this moment, their glances met across the little table. Tony often is right, said Major White. There was a pause, during which Mar- guerite attended to the two small coffee- pots for which she had such a youthful and outspoken contempt. The privileges of her sex ~Vere still new enough to her to afford a certain pleasure in pouring out beverages for other people to drink. Why is Tony so fond of the Hague? Who is Mrs.XTansittart? she asked, with- out looking up. Major White looked stolidly out of the open window for a few moments before answering. Two questions dont make an an- swer. RODENS CORNER. 81 Not these two questions? asked Mar- chambermaids always burst into your guerite, with a sudden laugh. room if you ring the bell, whether the No; Mrs. Vansittart is a widow, young, door is locked or not. He is nothing and what they usually call charming, I if not respectable, poor old dearwould believe. She is clever, yes, very clever; give points to any bishop in the land. and she was, I suppose, fond of Vansit- As she spoke her father came into the tart; and that is the whole story, I take room, looking, as his daughter had stated, it. eminently British and respectable. He shook hands with Major White, and seemed pleased to see him. The Major was, in truth, a man after his own heart, and one whom he looked upon as solid. For Mr. Wade belonged to a solid genera- tion that liked the andante of life to be played in good heavy chords, and looked with suspicions eyes upon brilliancy of execution or lightness of touch. I have had a note from Coruish, he said, who suggests a meeting at this hotel this afternoon to discuss our future action. The other side have, it appears, written to Lord Ferriby to come over to the Hague. There had in Mr. Wades life usually been that other side, which he had treated with a good honest respect so long as they proved themselves worthy of it, but which he crushed the moment they forgot themselves. For there was in this British banker a vast spirit of honest, open antagonism, by which he and his likes have built up a scattered empire on this planet. At three oclock, he concluded, lifting the cover of a silvei dish which Marguerite had sent back to the kitchen awaiting her fathers arrival. And what will you do, my dear? he said, turning to her. I ? replied Marguerite, who always knew her own mind. I will take a car- riage and drive down to the Villa des Dunes, to see Dorothy Roden. I have a note for her from Joan. And Mr. Wade turned to his breakfast with an appetite in no way diminished by the knowledge that the other side were about to take actions At three oclock the carriage was await- ing Marguerite at the door of the hotel, but for some reason Marguerite lingered in the porch, asking questions, and abso- lutely refusing to drive all the way to Scheveningen by the side of the Queens Canal. When at length she turned to get in, Tony Cornish was coming across the Toornoifeld under the trees; for the Hague is the shadiest city in the world3 with forest trees growing amid its great houses. Ah ! said Marguerite, holding out Not exactly a cheery story. No true stories are, returned the Major, gravely. But Marguerite shook her head. In her wisdomthat huge wisdom of life as seen from the thresholdshe did not be- lieve Mrs. Vansittarts story. Yes, but novelists and people take a true story and patch it up at the end. Perhaps most people do that with their lives, you know; perhaps Mrs. Vansit- tart Wont do that, said the Major, star- ing in a stupid way out of the window with vacant, short- sighted eyes. Not even if Tony suggested itwhich he wont do. You mean that Tony is not a patch upon the late Mr. Vansittartthat is what you mean, said Marguerite, condescend- ingly. Then why does lie stay in the Hague ? Major White shrugged his shoulders and lapsed into a stolid silence, broken only by a demand made presently by Marguerite to the waiter for more bread and more butter. She looked at her com- panion once or twice, and it is perhaps not astonishing that she again concluded that he must be as dense as he looked. It isa mistake that many of her sex have made regarding men. Do you know Miss Roden ? she asked, suddenly. I have heard a good deal about her from Joan. Yes. Is she pretty ? Yes. Very pretty? persisted Marguerite. Yes, replied the Major. And they continued their breakfast in silence. Marguerite appeared to have something to thiuk about. Major White was in the habit of stating that lie never thought, and certainly appearances bore him out. Your father is late, lie said at length. Yes answered Marguerite, with a gay laugh. Because lie was afraid to ring the bell for hot water. Papa has a rooted British conviction that Continental 82 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. her hand. You see I have come across to give you all a leg-up. Seems to me we are going to have rather a spree. The spree, replied Cornish, with his light laugh, has already begun. Marguerite drove away towards the Hague ~wood, and disappeared among the transparent green shadows of that won- derful forest. The man had been in- structed to take her to the Villa des Dunes by way of the Leyden Road, making a round in the woods. It was at a point near the farthest outskirts of the forest that Marguerite suddenly turned at the sight of a man sitting upon a bench at the road-side reading asheet of paper. That. she said to herself, is the Herr Professorbut I cannot remember his name. Marguerite was naturally a sociable person. Indeed a woman usually stops an old and half-forgotten acquaintance, while men are accustomed to let such by- gones go. She told the driver to turn round and drive back again. The man upon the bench had scarce looked up as she passed. He had the air of a German, which suggestion was accentuated by the solitude of his position and the poetic sur- roundings which he had selected. A German, be it recorded to his credit, has a keen sense of the beauties of nature, and would rather drink his beer before a fine outlook than in a comfortable chair in-doors. When Marguerite returned, this man looked up again with the absorbed air of one repeating something in his mind. When he perceived that she was undoubtedly coming towards himself, he stood up with heels clapped together, and took off his hat. He was a small,square- built man, with upright hair turning to gray, and a quiet, thoughtful, clean-sha- ven face. His attitude and indeed his person dimly suggested some pictures that have been painted of the great Napoleon. His measuring glanceas if the eyes were weighing the face it looked upon dis- tinctly suggested his great prototype. You do not remember me, Herr Pro- fessor, said Marguerite, holding out her hand with a frank laugh. You have forgotten Dresden and the chemistry classes at Fraulein Webers? No, Friiulein; I remember those class- es, the professor answered, with a grave bow. And you remember the girl who dropped the sulphuric acid into the some- tliiug of potassium? I nearly made a great discovery then, mein Herr. You nearly made the greatest discovery of all, Fraulein. Yes, I remember now Frijulein Wade. Yes, I am Marguerite Wade, she answered, looking at him with a little frown, but I cant remember your name. You were always Herr Professor. And we never called anything by its right name in the chemistry classes, you know; that was part of the er trick. We called water 11.2, or something like that. We called you J.H.U., Herr Professor. What does that mean, Fraulein? Jolly hard up, returned Marguerite, with a laugh, which suddenly gave place, with a bewildering rapidity, to a confi- dential gravity. You were poor then, mein Herr. I have always been poor, Fraulein, until now. But Marguerites mind had flown to other things. She was looking at him again with-a frown of concentration. I am beginning to remember your name, she said. Is it not strange how a name comes back with a face? And I had quite forgotten both your face and your name, Herr.. .. Herr.. . . von Holz -she broke off, and stepped back from him von Holzen, she said, slow- ly. Then you are the Malgamite man? Yes, Fraulein, he answered,with his grave smile, I am the Malgamite man. Marguerite looked at him with a sort of wonder, for she knew enough of the Malgamite scheme to realize that this was a man who ruled all that came near him, against whom her own father, and Tony Cornish, and Major White, and Mrs. Van- sittart, had been able to do nothingwho in the face of all opposition continued calmly to make Malgarnite, and sell it daily to the world at a preposterous profit, and at the cost only of mens lives. And you, Fraulein, are the daughter of Mr. Wade the banker? Yes, she answered, feeling suddenly that she was a schoolgirl again, stand- ing before her master. And why are you in the Hague? Oh, replied Marguerite, hesitating for perhaps the first time in her life, to enlarge our minds, mein Herr. She was looking at the paper he held in his hand, and lie saw the direction of her glance. In response, he laughed quiet- ly and held it out towards her. Yes, he said, you have guessed right. It is the Vorschrift, the prescrip- tion for the manufacture of Malgamite. She took the paper and turned it over curiously. Then, with her usual audacity, she opened it and began to read. Ah, she said, it is in Hebrew, Von Holzen nodded his head, and held out his hand for the paper, which she gave to him. She was not afraid of the man but she was very near to fear. And I am sitting here quietly under tile trees, Fraulein, he said, learnino it by heart. CHAPTER XXIV. A BRIGHT AND SHINING LIGHT. Un homme s~rieux est celui qul se croit regard& WHEN Lord Ferriby decided to accede to Roden~s earnest desire that he should go to the Hague, he was conscious of con- ferring a distinct favor upon the Low Countries. It is nota place one would choose to go to at this time of year,~ he said to a friend at the club. In the winter it is differ- VOL. XCVII.No. 57712 ent; for the season there is in the winter, as in many Continental capitals. One of the numerous advantages at- tached to a hereditary title is the cer- tainty that a hearer of some sort or an- other will always be forth-coming. A commonci finds himself snubbed or quiet- ly abandoned so soon as his reputation for the utterance of egoisms and plati- tudes is sufficiently established, but there are always plenty of people ready and willing to be bored by a lord. A high class club is, moreover, a very mushroom bed of bores, where elderly gentlemen who have travelled quite a distance down the road of life without finding out that it is bordered on either side by a series of small events not worth commenting upon meet to discuss trivialities. Truth is, said his lordship to one of these persons, this Malgamite scheme is one of the largest charities that I have conducted, and carries with it certain re- sponsibilities yes, certain responsibihi- ties. And he assumed a grave air of impor- tance almost amounting to worry. For LEARNING IT BY HEART. HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 84 Lord Ferriby did not know that a wor- ried look is an almost certain indication of a small mind. Nor had he observed that those who bear the greatest respon- sibilities, and have proved themselves worthy of the burden, are precisely they who show the serenest face to the world. It must not, however, be imagined that Lord Ferriby was in reality at all uneasy respecting the Malgamite scheme. Here again he enjoyed one of the advantages of having been preceded by a grandfather able and willing to serve his party with- out too minute a scruple. For if the king can do no wrong, the nobility may surely claim a certain immunity from criticism, and those who have allowance made to them must inevitably learn to make al- lowance for themselves. Lord Ferribv ~vas,in a word, too self-satisfied to harbor any doubts respecting his own conduct. Self-satisfaction is, of course, indolence in disguise. It was easy enough for Lord Ferribv to persuade himself that Cornish was wrong and Roden in the right; especially when Roden, in the most gentlemanly manner possible, paid a check, not to Lord Fern- by direct, but to his bankers, in what he gracefully termed the form of a bonus upon the heavy subscription originally advanced by his lordship. There are many people in the world who will accept money so long as their delicate suscepti- bilities are not offended by an actual sight of the check. Anthony Cornish, said Lord Fern- by, pulling down his waistcoat, ~ like many men who have had neither train- ing nor experience, does not quite under- stand the ethics of commerce. His lordship, like others, seemed to un- derstand these to mean that a man may take anything that his neighbor is fool enough to part with. Joan was willing enough to accompany her father, because in the great march of social progress she had passed on from charity to sanitation, and was convinced that the mortality among the Malga- miters, which had been more than hinted at in the Ferriby family circle, was en- tirely due to the negligence of the vic- tims in not using an old disinfectant served up in artistic flagons under a new name. Permanganate of potash under another name will not only smell as sweet, but will perform greater sanitary wonders, because the world places faith in a new name, and faith is still the greatest healer of human ills. Joan therefore proposed to carry to the Hague the glad. tidings of the sani- tary millennium, fully convinced that this had come to a suffering world under the name of Nuxine, in small bottles, at the price of one shilling and a penny half-penny. The penby half-penny, no doubt, represented the cost of bottle and drug and the small blue ribbon securing the stopper, while the shilling went very properly into the manufacturers pocket. It was at this time the fashion in Joans world to smell of Nuxine, which could also be had in the sweetest little blue tabloids, to place in the wardrobe and among ones clean clothes. Joan had given Major White a box of these tab- loids, which gift had been accepted with becoming gravity. Indeed, the Major seemed never to tire of hearing Joan s exordiums, or of watching her pretty, earnest face as she urged him to use Nuxine in its various forms, and it was only when he heard that cigar-hold- ers made of Nuxine absorbed all the deleterious properties of tobacco that his stout heart failed him. Yes, he pleaded, but a fellow must draw the line at a sky-blue cigar-holder, you know. And Joan had to content herself with the promise that he would use none other than Nuxine dentifrice. Lord Ferriby and Joan, therefore, set out to the Hague, his lordship in the full conviction (enjoyed by so many use- less persons) that his presence was in it- self of beneficial effect upon the course of events, and Joan with her Nuxine and, in a minor degree now, her Malga- miters and her Haberdashers Assist- ants. Lady Ferriby preferred to remain at Cambridge Terrace, chiefly because it was cheaper, and also because the cook required a holiday, and, with a kitchen- maid only, she could indulge in her great- est pleasure a useless economy. The cook refused to starve her fellow-servants, while the kitchen-maid, mindful of a written character in the future, did as her ladyship bade herhashing and mincing in a manner quite irreconcilable with forty pounds a year and beer-money. Major White met the travellers at the Hague station, and Joan, who had had some trouble with her father during the simple journey, was conscious for the RODENS CORNER. - 85 first time of a sense of orderliness and was that he ranged himself stolidly on rest in the presence of the stout soldier Cornishs side in the differences that had who seemed to walk heavily over diffi- arisen. culties when th~y arose. Lord Ferriby was dimly conscious of a Eher, began his lordship as they smouldering antagonism, but knew the walked down the platform, have you Major sufficiently well not to fear an out- seen anything of Roden? break of hostilities. Men who will face For Lord Ferriby was too self-centred opposition may be divided into two class- a man to be keenly observant, and had esthe one taking its stand upon a con- as yet failed to detect Von Holzen be- scious rectitude, the other half hiding with hind and overshadowing his partner in the cheap and transparent cunning of the the Malgamite scheme. ostrich. Many men, also, are in the for- Nocannot say I have, replied the tunate condition of believing themselves Major. to be invariably right nuless they are told He had never discussed the Malgamite quite plainly that they are wrong. And affairs with Lord Ferriby. Discussion there was nobody to tell Lord Ferriby was, indeed, a pastime in which the Major this. Cornish, with a sort of respect for never indulged. His position in the mat- the head of the family-a regard for the ter was clearly enough defined, but he office irrespective of its holderwas so had no intention of explaining why it far from wishing to convince his uncle MAJOR WHITE MET THE TRAVELLERS AT THE HAGUE STATION. 86 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. of error that he voluntarily relinquished certain strong points in his positioii rath- er than strike a blow that would inevita- bly reach Lord Ferriby, though directed towards Roden or Von Hoizen. Lord Ferriby heard, however, with some uneasiness, that the Wades were in the Hague. A worthy mana very worthy man, he said, abstractedly; for he looked upon the banker with that dim suspicion which is aroused in certain minds by uncompro- mising honesty. The travellers proceeded to the hotel, where rooms had been prepared for them. There were flowers in Joans room, which her maid said she had rearranged, so awk- wardly had they been placed iii the vase. The Wades, it appeared, were out, and had announced their intention of not re- turning to lunch. They were, the hotel porter thought, to take that meal at Mrs. \Tansittarts I think, said Lord Ferriby, that I will go down to the works. Yes, do, answered White, with an expressionless countenance. Perhaps you will accompany me? suggested Joans father. Nothink not. Cant hit it off with Roden. Perhaps Joan would like to see the Palace in the Wood. Joan thought that it was her duty to go to the Malgamite works, and murmur- ed the word Nuxine, without, however, much enthusiasm; but White happened to remember that it was mixing day. So Lord Ferriby went off alone in a hired carriage, as had been his intention from the first; for White knew even less about the ethics of commerce than did Cornish. The account of affairs that awaited his lordship at the works was, no doubt, sat- isfactory enough, for the manufacture of Malgamite had been proceeding at high pressure night and day. Von Hoizen had, as he told Marguerite, been poor all his life, and poverty is a hard task-mas- ter. He was not going to be poor again. The gray carts had been passing up and down Park Straat more often than ever, taking their loads to one or other of the railway stations, and bringing, as they passed her house, a gleam of anger to Mrs. Vansittarts eyes. The scoundrels ! she muttered. The scoundrels! Why does not Tony act? But Tony Cornish, who alone knew ithe full extent of Von Holzens determi nation not to be frustrated, could not act for Dorothys sake. A string of the quiet gray carts passed up Park Strant when the party assembled there had risen from the luncheon table. Mrs.Vansittart and Mv. Wade were stand- ing together at the window, which was large even in this city of large and spot- less windows. Dorothy and Cornish were talking together at the other end of the room, and Marguerite was supposed to be looking at a book of photographs. There goes a consignment of mens lives, said Mrs. Vansittart to her com- panion. A human life, madam, answered the banker, like all else on earth, varies much in value. For Mr. Wade belonged to that class of Englishmen which has a horror of all sentiment, and takes care to cloak its good actions by the assumption of aim unwor- thy motive. And who shall say that this man of business was wrong in his statement? Which of us has not a few friends and relations who can only have been created as a solemn warning? As Mrs. Vansittart and Mr. Wade stood at the window, Marguerite joined them, slipping her hand within her fathers arm with that air of protection which she usu- ally assumed towards him. She was gay and lively, as she ever was, and Mis.Vau- sittart glanced at her more than once with a sort of envy. Mrs. Vansittart did not, in truth, always understand Marguerite or her Er~glish,which was essentially modern. They were standing and laughing at the window, when Marguerite suddenly drew them back. What is it? asked Mrs. Vansittart. It is Lord Ferriby, replied Margue- rite. And looking cautiously between the lace curtains, they saw the great man drive past in his hired carriage. He has recently bought Park Strant, commented Marguerite. And his lord- ships condescending air certainly seemed to suggest that the street, if not the whole city, belonged to him. Mr. Wade pointed with his thick thumb 1 ri the direction in which Lord Ferriby was driving. Where is he going? he asked,bluntly. To th)e Malgamite works, replied Mrs. Vansittart, with significance. And Mr. Wade made no comment. Mrs. Vansittart spoke first. WILLIAMS MOOSE. 87 I asked Major White, she said, to lunch with us to-day, but he was pledged, it appeared, to meet Lord Ferriby and his daughter, and see them installed at their hotel. Ah ! said Mr. Wade. Mrs. Yansittart, who in truth seemed to find the banker rather heavy, allowed IT has not been given to many to know William. Those who do know him must have been in the North-of-Maine woods, for he only came out of his lair once, which was sufficient for William, as, indeed, it was for me. That occasion was one of importance in the history of both our lives. William and I had been friends for many years, as, I believe, we shall be for as many years as are allotted us upon this game-stocked earth but that single step of his out of the world and into the city was near being the close of all friendly relations between us. It happened that at my suggestion William appeared in New York once on a time, and before I had succeeded in transport- ing him from the railway to the seclu- sion of my four walls he had attracted the attention of some twenty thousand persons on Broadway, and had very near- ly decapitated a policeman. Yet he is remarkable for other things than his looks. He is an original in ev- ery way, is William, rpore especially in his birth. No one to look upon him could doubt that he was an Indian some centuri~es back. Some time after the ar- rival of the Mayflower he took upon himself the qualities of the Puritan; and finally, no one to know him could doubt that he had developed from some New voL. XcvIL1~o. 577.i 3 some moments to elapse before she again spoke. Major White, she then observed, does not accompany Lord Ferriby to the Malgamite works. Major White, replied Marguerite, de- murely, has other fish to fry. [To BE CONTINUED.] England ancestor a very generous share of Yankee keenness and wit. As an Ind- ian he travels and lies with prodigious ease. As a Puritan he not only objects to deceit in others, but takes the severest measures at hand to punish it. As a Yankee he usually secures whatever moneys you may have brought into his country. Nevertheless, if it were not for the ex- traordinary wisdom of William he would long ago have spiked his metaphorical guns and gone over to the kingdom of Rock and Rye. Many a time when money fails to persuade him to a bit of still-h unt- ing, whiskey will quicken his sporting spirit, and all the tales which he has but a moment before poured forth to show that neither moose nor deer ever haunted this or that particular region are airily waived, and acknowledged to bewhat in reality they have been all along lies such as are only heard in the Canada timber. Still there never was an honester chap. He will bring you up to a moose with the utmost skill after hours of work, unless you have come into the woods to bag a cart-load of heads. Then William takes on the robes of governmental office. He has been running over Maine these twen- ty years. He has seen practical demon- strations of what the game laws have ILLIAN~NOO~SIE. I. 88 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. done to increase the game, and his third ancestor, the Yankee, tells him that if he limits a man to one head, there are sure to be more left for others. He therefore becomes the enforcer of the laws, and therein lies a touch of the Puritan. His method of showing you the physical im- possibility of coming up with more than one moose is eminently Indian. You have become greedy, we will say. One head is already in the camp, but you must have another, one for each of the children, and a promise of $6 instead of $5 a day finally overcomes Williams ex- pressed scruples. He leads the way all day and all night. You follow. By-and- by there stands the moose feeding in a swale. All goes well; you crawl here and there and everywhere, and are on the point of bringing him under the sights, when a twig mysteriously breaks, or the canoe brings up suddenly on a rock, or Williams paddle flashes in the sun, and the moose is gone. There comes in the William of the woods, who ought to have been named Rain-in-the-Face, or Young-Man-afraid-of-his-Horses. Such is the friend of my woodland days, the man who, in late September, after our Broadway episode, sent me a note to the effect that he believed the moose were as usual rutting, and that if I would leave Broadway behind and pro- ceed in back of the Rangeleys, that beau- tiful series of ponds and lakes in Maine, he felt reasonably certain that we might search out one and bring him to the end of his days. You may go into Rangeley to-day in a Pullman car, reading the morning paper you have bought in Boston. There are hotels and electric lights, trolleys, and such; but northward the Maine woods are still primeval. Our journey beyond Rangeley consisted of several days of paddling northward, with now and then a carry around some rapids, or out of one lake and into another, as finally we began to get into moose country, cold and clear, with a touch of snow in the air, and the feeling of stalking sifting into our veins as the snow would soon be sift- ing through the trees. II. As William said to me on the day we made the New Brunswick line, Moose, him no picnic, you see. See you mos time fore you see him. Come up quiet like; look round; sneak urn off. Next morning moose track thirty yard off. Moose vamoose. Herein lies more wis- doni than is contained in some of the prophets. You may call; in which case you get nothing. William may call; in which case you receive replies, and some- times get a shot. You may stalk, or, as it is called, still-hunt, and with Wil- liam, perhaps come up with the game; never without him. Indeed, you can run down a big bull on snow-shoes when the animals feet cut through to the ground, and you can kill him with a club, but this you may not do. Somewhat betwixt and between you may get into a boat at night, light a torch, and fascinate the big beast until you are fifteen or thirty yards away. Here again, follow Williamin fact, William is Appendix No. 1 to the Encyclop~edia of the Woods Hit um square, back shoulder, sure. Big moose no like fool. Maybe jump; then better canoe and two men somewheres else. According to theory, stalkingthat is, crawling through the labyrinth of the woods by skill and by stealth, playing with your ears and eyes against his ears and nose, coming up with him on his own terms, your better intelligence pitted against his better senses, is the only way to hunt the lordly moose. As a matter of fact, good sportsmen, after many days of stalking and no shooting, spend their nights with their Williams making the long yearning call of the cow moose through a birch-bark cone-shaped horn, calling the old bulls in the rutting sea- son. Unquestionably this is proper sport; partly because thorough sportsmen con- sider it as such, which is sufficient reason for me, as they know more of it than I do; partly because the extraordinary skill required in calling is as great in its way as the extraordinary skill in still-hunt- ing. Flaring the moose is only resorted to by sportsmen when they have nearly exhausted their time, and have entirely exhausted their patience to no purpose. It is close to the border-line between our friend the sport and our necessary ani- mal the butcher. Running a beast down on snow-shoes, on the other hand, is sole- ly the property of the latter; and as the moose is not, like the sheep, plentiful and necessary for food, the sportsmen have stepped in and procured certain written laws to assist those that have been un- written for some time, which take that WILLIAMS MOOSE. 89 particular food animal out of the steak-, chop-, and hide-dealers hands. And hence abideth still-hunting, call- ing, and flaring, these three; but the greatest of these is still-hunting. The difficulty of getting at the game, the setting in which the sport lies, make it the most interesting as well as the most beautiful of big-game work. In the fall of the year, for about six weeks, dur- ing late September and through all Oc- tober, when the bulls begin to go about the country in the rutting season, the woods of northern Maine and New Bruns- wick, brown, red, and yellow in their autumn dresses, are warm in the day- time, cold at night, and beautiful always. By day the stalking is a game beyond all description, wherein you follow the wan- derings of your wonderful Indian, which at first seem to be without reason. He will look at the ground, then high up on the tree trunks, and in a moment he is strid- ing off at right angles, moving gradually to the direction whence comes the wind. At another time, after an examination, he falls fiat upon his stomach. You fol- low the lead, and there is nothing in the world so important as to avoid the little dead branches and twigs along the way. Should your gun scrape along one of the leafless twigs lying all about, should your hand or elbow press too heavily upon a pile of leaves, you might not hear a sound in all this stillness, but two hundred yards further on you would come upon displaced moss here and there, telling the inevitable story of the keen animals discovery that man had come his way. Or perhaps you are close on himhere where you have been trying to get these two weeks. Nothing but care is needed now, when the blessed wind shifts and comes out of some other quarter, and the jig of that particular moose-hunt is up. Such, no doubt, has been the misfort- une of many a disappointed man. Such, at all events, had been the luck of William and myself on a certain afternoon some ten days after getting into the timber, and as we had come upon the fruitless trail after a muscle - straining paddle across lakes and up rivers, interspersed with heart-rending carries over the dry land, where, although he bore the heavy canoe, the huge pack of blankets, tin cans, provisions, and rifles, which fell metaphorically to and physically upon me, was in close proximity to the last straw. There was no talk of moving our kit from the spot where the unsports- manlike wind had changed, and there we slept, therefore, in an impromptu lean- to. Next day, returning to the canoe, we spent the daylight hours, and some of those which were dark, in building the William Camp. As every man has his own idea of a house, so every hunter has his own con- ception of a camp. Furthermore, each season and each particular country has its idea of a camp as well. Sometimes man and Nature collide as to these, and usually man gets the worst of it; so that he becomes courteous to Nature, asks her what will suit her highness, and if he have a level head, such, for example, as William possesses, he modifies his idea to please the lady. In September and October the days and nights are ideal in the North-of-Maine country, and therefore our camp was sim- ple. William cut some logs, and laid them two deep in the form of a square. This was the foot-high foundation of our house. Between these, long poles were stuck, and where they came together at their top they were securely fastened. On the outer side of these poles were laid bark and leaves and anything we hap- pened to have. And here were our walls extending to within a foot or two of the top, which was left open for the several very necessary purposes of light, ventila- tion, and chimney. At the front of the camp the logs for a distance of three feet were cut nearly to the ground, and a blanket was laid across outside, so that we could have our door open or shut as the spirit and the weather might move. Inside, for a dis- tance of three feet from the three walls towards the centre of our residence, the ground was covered with a foot of balsam boughs; and I have found, as others found several years before I had the fort- une to be born, that, provided the boughs are sufficiently small, there is nothing short of a spring bed and mattress to equal them for buoyancy. Thus we had a berth on three sides of our house, we had a fire in the centre, and we stretched lines across from side to side close to the walls, where wet clothes and all the par- aphernalia of camp might be hung. It would be dishonest not to confess that I prefer a twenty-foot house on Fifth Avenue with five stories and an exten 90 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. sion. Furthermore, Fran~ois, if I had him, would no doubt be a better chef than William. There are sportsmen some of them known everywhere for their truth-telling and their good shots who not only say, but appear to believe, that balsam is finer than the linens of Germany, that the mystical odor of the boughs is better than all the perfumes of Arabia, not to mention the city, and that a tin can of tea and some dried bacon in the forest is as much finer than a well- ordered dinner at the Caf6 Amiricain as America is superior to France. Such be- lief comes from poets, and, in my case, to look back upon that cup of tea and mess of bacon which William and I partook of by a big fire is far more attractive than was the eating and drinking thereof. Of course it tasted good, but roast beef and ale, or rice pudding, would have tasted better, and there is the plain truth of it stripped of the poetry of the woods. Still, it would be unjust to William to say that we did not enjoy our meals and our home. No one can appreciate the beautiful setting for tramps and hunts and tired afternoons which these great forests and the month of October furnish, unless he has walked there and hunted there and lain out under the trees in sight of the camp, and smoked his pipe lying flat upon the autumn grass looking up through the brown and red branches into the sky, with now and thea the rustle of some little fellow of the forest, who is a trifle surprised to find him there, or the note of a bird, or the quiet rustle of the dying wind in among the leaves and branches. With twenty - five miles to your credit, and a wearied yet in some way restful feeling in your bones, you smoke awhile, and sleep awhile, and doze betweenwhiles, and think of far-away work and home, and wonder if you will bag your moose to-morrow or to-night. And if it rains, what matter? We shut our blanket door; we build a fire within, and, dreaming on the balsam beds, we sit and smoke and watch the rain come down through the ventilation - light - chimney - hole, while William tells stories of hunts that I nev- er saw, and doubt if he ever did. And only the fire is disturbed as it spits and splutters over the rain - drops that fall upon it. cold October twilight was coming on, and a little snow flurry had just stopped, leaving almost half an inch of clean white carpet all within the woods. There was not the least movement of air, and in two hours we should have a big moon rising up into a cold sky. William, I said, I have three days more, and what with your changing winds and the dry woods, we seem to have succeeded in scaring off all the bulls you remember in these parts. Dont understand um, you see, an- swered William. Try. Dat one big feller. We mos get um week ago. Nearly see um yesterday. Right off here now. Very wise moose. Prhaps um Devil. Could we call him to-night? Maybe can. Maybe no. Very much wise old Devil. You say try, we try. Try it is, I answered; and in twenty minutes we had some tea, a hot - water kettle, some biscuit, a bit of bacon, a sleeping-bag, and a rifle apiece, and were off to a barren that had taken Williams eye some time before. No place could be better adapted to this great art of calling. For, be it re- membered, calling involves secrecy on the part of the caller and publicity on the part of the called. Barrens are therefore favorite places for calling. After a good walk through thick underbrush sur- mounted by high trees, finding difficulty in getting a clear way through, you sud- denly step out upon a bit of prairie with- out a twig on its whole length and breadth. It is perhaps four or five miles long and two or three wide. The edges are marked with indentations and irregularities, and in the centre are small tree-covered knolls, closely packed with underbrush. It looks as if in some forgotten age the tide had gone out one day and, along with the age, had forgotten to come back. If there were water there the open bit would be a lake, and the knoll an island. If the lake were a desert, the island would be an oasis. In Canada the lake becomes a barren; the island becomes a swale. William and I had come upon this bar- ren one day as we worked up wind on the track of this old Devil, for whom he had by now developed a combination of dis- III. like and superstitious fear. As we reached So we lived till once the sun was get- the edge of a point with a little bay on ting within an hour of its bedtime, the either side, a tiny swale raised its head VERY WISE MOOSE. PREAPS TIM DEVIL. 92 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. about one hundred and fifty yards off the point. It would avail not should we sit upon this swale a month, unless we had a perfectly still moonlight night. For the wind would carry our whereabouts to any moose that might come to the call; and even if he did not discover us we could not see him unless there were suf- ficient light. The coming of this silent, snow - carpeted, moonlit night brought back the remembrance of the barren, and thither we forthwith proceeded. All was done silently, and we soon had a little place cleared on the swale, wood for a fire ready when we could dare to let the smoke rise, and a few boughs made into a nest at the foot of a goodly bal- sam. There was still a half-light in the sky, and the woods were as still as any woods can be, when William had his birch horn made and gave the first long plaintive call of the lone cow moose. He then silently worked up into a tree, and I lay down to listen. As darkness came on every noise seemed much louder than it really was, and the nervous strain of listening made it impdssible for me to keep still. The buzzing of the blood in my ears began to sound like a railway train five miles away. The rustle of a leaf un- der my arm gave me a nervous fit, for I thought surely it was the first step of a moose coming up. Not a sound dis- turbed the night, however, and after half an hour William gave another long, plaintive, mournful, most unmusical cry from the tree. Not a sound in reply. Then in a moment I had jumped in my reclining position, making a noise that it seemed must be heard down in Bangor. An owl had hooted directly over my head, and I grew hot with confusion as I remembered that William was to give an owl hoot if anything were at hand. When I could cool down I began to scan the shore of the barren near the point. The moon had just come above the trees, and made the snow and the open barren re- markably light, though beneath the trees all was dark. In the next instant, how- ever, I saw, perhaps five hundred yards down the left shore, the huge motionless head and antlers of a big moose. So far as could be seen he did not move, but held his head stretched out toward the swale, and his antlers laid back on his withers. How the animal had come through that close bit of timber on this silent night without making a sound is as much of a mystery now as this silent approach of a moose has always been. I lay fascinated by the motionless head, when I had like to have spoiled the whole game by jumping to my knees as some- thing touched my shoulder.~ No one can realize what the nerves become under such tiying circumstances. I looked round, expecting to see another moose smelling of me, and found William sit- ting by my side. He straightway put the mouth of the horn close to the ground, to deaden the call, and, with a face that was distorted with anxiety and excite- ment, gave out a most yearning cry. The moose did not stir. Him no big fool moose. Old Devil know everything. Ugh! pist! he added the next moment, for our silent third party had turned and disappeared in the woods without so much as the crackle of a twig. I could have cried out from disappoint- men t,as well as helplessness at the thought of how useless the average man, and my- self in particular, was under such condi- tions. Alone, I should not only have failed to call well enough to attract the game, but never should have discovered the moose on the barren, even had he been called there. And now what had sent him off thus silently? Old bull, said William, impressively, he know too much. Think urn some- thing wrong. Come up slow, quiet like, you see. Him mighty particular bout um cow. There was nothing to do but settle down and call once in half an hour or so, which we did as the moon went slowly down, and the night grew chill and raw. It is a trying time. You can neither sleep nor keep awake in your bag, which, warm as it is, cannot keep that nervous chill of suppressed excitement from congealing the blood. The sport in me had almost given out, and I was on the point of tell- ing William to build a fire and get some breakfast, just as the cold, rasping light began to come in from the eastward in a white line along the tops of the trees, when he stood up softly and climbed the tree again for the tenth time. Out went the long call of the cowHeaven help her if she had stood here all night as we had and then we waited again. All at once the whole scene changed. William was on the ground in an instant. WILLIAMS MOOSE. 93 I was close under a bush, looking toward moment. The crisp, chill air makes you the point, a little more than a hundred shiver in any case, and the unseen beast yards away. For out of the spectral si- tearing through the forest in the indistinct lence of the morning had come the inde- light, how far away, how near, you can- scribable, huge, far-reaching grunt of a not tell, but likely to burst out on the bar- bull. It sounds like a hard, rasping ren at any moment, and only stand for an gwoof! and carries a prodi~ious dis- instant, the necessityforan immediate and tance. Then we could hear the crackling accurate shotall this made my aTheady of twigs and branches, and the stamp of somewhat tried nervous system work up the amorous old chap, who fancied other to such a white heat that, as I got the rifle hulls in the vicinity, and wished to give ready in position,the barrel wabbled about them warning that he was here and ready all over the swale, pointing up first one bay to fight over the lady. and then up the other. It seemed utterly It is totally impossible to give an ade- impossible to keep it headed for the point, quate impression of the excitement of the out upon which was coming this tearing THE cAMr. 94 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. cyclone. It did not seem as if he could take so long to break into view, when, in a moment, every sound ceased. Discretioa was becoming the better part of valor. William waited anxiously a moment, and then, with the greatest care, placing his horn against the ground, he gave out a short, plaintive grunt. We both jumped simultaneously. No one could have helped it, for without the least warning a huge bull leaped out of the dark woods at the point into the clear snow of the barren. Now shoot! Hit um! Pick urn sure gasped William; and with a lump in my throat, and a barrel that I could not keep my eye running along, I fired as the huge beast stood motionless, looking straight at our swale. The next moment he was up in the air and turned to go back, but that one shot had steadied me, and as Williams rifle cracked fgot in another on the broad side in back of the shoulder, and the three STILL-HUNTING. reports went shuffling about under the trees and across the barren to announce that the game was dead in his tracks. Iv. After the storm came the calm. After the cold chills of daybreak came the lazy sleepiness of the warm noon. After the fasting of the night came the feast of ba- con and tea, and then I laid me down upon the warms earth full in the suns glare, where now all was dry and odorous that had been snow and chill but a few hours before. And I fell to wondering how in this very swale, upon this very barren, I could so have lost my nerve as to jump through all my body at each crack of a twig so short a time ago. Lying there in the midst of the brilliant autumn forest, with the noise of birds and ani- mals on all sides tickling my ears, with the morning breeze swingingthe limbs over my head back and forth in easy, grace- ful, lazy sweeps, I lit the never-to- be-forgotten pipe, and put my hands behind my head and tried to think it all over again. This was not only the first moose; he had been the aim and purpose of life since the passage of nearly four- teen days; he had been something to dream on by night beside the fire, something to think on by day as we wandered afoot or astom- ach, something to talk of with Wil- liam as we rose in the morning and laid us down to sleep at night; he had become a purpose; and there he lay now, for I could see him by merely turning my head away from the blue sky and red trees there he lay with his head severed, with his hide just coming off, and some of his good haunch being made ready for more and more feasts. The smoke from the pipe crawled still closer over me. Things assumed hazy, limpid shapes above, and there grew upon me the feeling of wonder that William could still work on he had been more awake than I all night; he had made the only discovery that was to be made during those hours of trial; he had kept me up when I would surely have given in without him; and now he was still silently, stolidly at work cleaning up the results of the fray. What would the twenty thousand per- sons on Broadway say to him now? Would any one of them have been awake to question at this hour? Might not the policeman who owes his head to my intervention feel less like amusing himself at Williams expense, and less officious over the pryinglet us say in- vestigatinginstinet of the Maine woods- man? Here was the old Indian, of such magnificent physique that he could go on with his days work after such a nights labors, still showing his touch of the conscientious Puritan by an absolutely inborn belief in the necessity for cutting up the moose before resting or eating. His bronze face shone with perspiration in the warm morning sun, and with his black hair hanging about in disorder his head might have been the choice work of some sculptor who had used a down- East Yankee as a model on which to make an American Indian. Never was I more fond of William than that morning when I took him in through a haze of smoke, sunshine, and drowsiness, and then the sky and the trees, William and the moose, gradually and softly crept farther and farther away, the pipe dropped to the ground, and one man in New Brunswick forgot his troubles for a space. THE GAME WA5 DEAD IN HIS TRACKS. BY ELLEN DOUGLAS DELAND. IT had been raining for nearly two weeks, and perhaps it was that which caused Mrs. Pettingrew to ask the ques- tion, for though in conversation one tries to avoid all allusion to the weather as being scarcely worth mentioning, there is no doubt that it has a marked effect upon human affairs. If Mrs. Pettingrew had not been made depressed and nervous by two weeks of rain, dampness, and in- door life, who can say for a certainty that these events would have ever come to pass? Miss Susan Todd stood at her parlor window and looked out upon the road. Beyond the road she could see but little, for the heavy mist that hung over the mountains shut off completely their ~iant shapes. Miss Susan Todd lived in a small valley that was completely surrounded by towering hills. The summer boarder lik- ened the spot to the bottom of a basin; to Miss Todd it was life. It wa~ not often that Susan used her parlor. The regularity of the heaps of books upon the marble-topped centre ta- ble showed this to be the case, while the obtrusive freshness of the parlor setone arm - chair, three straight backs, and a sofa, each adorned with a crocheted tidy proved that they were sat upon but sel- dom. Only when the Womans Club met there, or the minister and his wife came to supper, was this holy of holies thrown open to the public. But the weather had been too much for even the strictly dis- ciplined nature of Susan Todd, and cast- ing aside all scruples, she raised the shade at one of the parlor windows, and stood gazin~ at the puddles in the road. I dont think I ever knew such a spell of weather as this, said she to her- self. Ive known it to rain three or four days at a time, and then get over it and clear up again, but I declare it does seem as if there wasnt such a thing as a sun anywheres. It requires all the faith you have in the Bible and the flood and the rainbow to think it is& t a-going to keep on raining forever. I do miss the moun The Pettingrew Family. MRS. PETTINGREWS QUESTION. MRS. PETTINGREWS QUESTION. 97 tains so when I cant see em! Whos this a death-warrant served on you. You coming down the road? Why, there havent been committing a murder, have wouldnt a dog go out in such a pour as you, and are going to be hung? this if he wasnt forced to, and this is a Miss Todd had little sense of humor woman. Well, I want to know! Its El- herself, and when she joked she was apt len Pettingrew, as sure as I stand here! to go to an extreme. Wherever on earth can she be going to? I shouldnt think youd make fun of Shes turning in at my gate! Well, I me, Susan, said Mrs. Pettingrew. It H aint a-going to have her coming into the be time enough to laugh and make your best room all dripping wet. And hastily jokes when Im gone. It wont be long pullin~ down the shade, Miss Todd return- now. And drawing her handkerchief ed to the kitchen, from her pocket she covered her face How do you do, Mrs. Pettingrew? with it while she rocked her body to and said she, somewhat stiffly, as she opened fro. the back door in response to the agitated Miss Todd was distinctly impressed. knock of her visitor. Tisnt often I I do wish youd explain what you have the pleasure of a call from you, but mean, Ellen Pettingrew, she said, with youre welcome, all the same. Kindly some impatience. If you think youre take off your rubbers before you come in, and if youwould be so good as to set your umbrella outside the door La, Susan, youre just as old1maidish as ever, aint you? interrupted Mrs. Pettingrew, as she complied with her request. If you could see riny kitchen! But there, it aint to be expected youd act as you would if you had a husband and four boys comitig in all hours, rain or shine. There isnt much shine just at present, remarked Miss Todd, ig- noring the tone of commiserating superiority in which Mrs. Pettin- grew had spoken. But, Ellen, whats the matter? The visitor had removed her rubber wa- terproof and her hood, and her face was visible for the first time. You aint sick. are you? I shouldnt have thought ydud come out in this weather if you was. jWhat is the matter, Ellen? I aint surprised that you ask, returned Mrs. Pettin - grew, solemnly, as she drew her chair toward the stove and extended her feet from beneath her shortened skirts. She was a pretty woman still, though well over forty and with a figure inclined to stout- ness. I aint at all surprised you ask. This morning I was a well woman. This after- noon Im doomed. Lands sake, Ellen, how you do talk! said Miss Todd. I should think youd had I nONT THINK I EVER KNEW 5UCH A 5PELL OF WEATHER. going to die, do say so right out, and tell me what causes you to think it. You havent got a pain, have you? Or a sore throat? Or a languishment, like the poor lady in our cemetery who died of a lan- guishment, though I never knew exactly what it meant. I havent got a languishment, said Mrs. Pettingrew, removing her handker- chief. If anybody had died of a lan- guishment twould have been you, and not me, for it means a broken heart, and everybody said But there! I dont want to begin on that yet, though its partly what Ive come about. Neither have I got a sore throat, nor a pain. So far as I know, I havent got an ache, nor is any- thing the matter with me, which only makes it all the more aggravating, for Im going to die on Monday. And again Mrs. Pettingrews comely face was hidden behind her handkerchief. I dont know what you mean about a broken heart, said Miss Todd, with dignity. There isnt a crack in mine, nor ever has been. If you came down here this rainy day to talk about past grievances and spiteful doings, all I can say is, Ive got something better to be at. I didnt! I didnt ! moaned Mrs. Pettingrew, rocking with renewed vigor. Susan, dont be hard on me. If you knew what I was going through ! Well, I cant possibly know till you tell me, said Susan, sitting down for the first time since her visitor came. She placed herself near the window, and in the fading light of the rainy afternoon one could not see the silver hairs that streaked her smooth brown head, nor the lines which time and care and a gradu- ally narrowing life had etched upon her delicate face. In the soft gray twilight she looked almost young and pretty, as Mrs. Pettingrew did not fail to notice whenever she removed her moist hand- kerchief. Susan was slender too, which had al- ways been a trial to her neighbor. I will tell you, said Mrs. Pettingrew, in a broken voice. As I said, Im doom- ed. Ive had my summons. This morn- I HAVENT GOT A LANGUIsHMENT, 5AID MRS. PETTINGREW. MRS. PETTINGREWS QUESTION. 99 ing I was a well woman, planning about the boys, thinking how Pd do over my winter cloak, and intending to get one of those cheap silks you see advertised so much to make a waist of, for best this winter. I shan~t need one of em; and as for the boys, somebody else will plan for them hereafter, I suppose. Oh, Susan, say youll be good to em! I know you will to Ira; I havent any fear for him. Hell be looked after; but the boys! Ellen Pettingrew, either youre crazy or I am. What have I got to do with your boys? I shouldnt wonder if you have a fit coming on. My mothers second cousin used to have em, and she always talked queer for an hour or two before they seized her. Are your hands and feet cold? Not a bit. Tisnt a fit, Susan; its a summons. All Ive got to do now is to prepare for death. My time is very short. Here it is Friday afternoon, going on half past four. On Monday at this time Ill be lying stiff and cold upon my bed. On Tuesday, or at the latest Wednesday, Ill be in my coffin. On Thursday Ill be in my grave. One week from to - day it 11 all be over. Oh, Susan I Miss Todd felt very uncomfortable. She was quite sure that her visitor was about to have an attack of some kind, if it had not already begun. It might be approach- ing insanity. She glanced out of the win- dow, not a creature was in sight, and the rain was falling more relentlessly than ever. Susan lived alone, and did her own work, with the occasional help of a labor- ing-man, a scrubbing-woman, or a neigh- bor. There was no one within reach at present, so she rose to the occasion, as she had done once or twice before in her life. Ill make you a cup of tea, Ellen, said she, and then maybe youll feel better. A cup of tea always seems to set me right. I guess youre tired with all your planning and this wet weather. Its enough to make any one sort of miserable. It 11 have a bad effect on the autumn leaves; Im afraid; though its a good thing its come in the fall instead of the spring, on account of the crops,Its best to di- vert her mind, she added to herself, as she placed two cups and saucers upon the table, and unlocked the lacquered-ware box that contained her grandmothers silver teaspoons. You think Im crazy, said Mrs. Pet- tingrew; and youve a right to. Maybe VOL. xcvll.No. 57715 youll change your mind, though, when you hear what Ive got to say. A cup of tea will be very nice, though, and I thank you, Susan, for thinking of it. It wont be many more cups of tea Ill have in this world, and as for the world to come well, its all nncertain how it 11 be there, and theres no mention of tea in the Bible, but Im sorry enough to think Im not going to have much more. Ellen ! exclaimed Miss Todd, greatly shocked. Then she remembered the course of conduct which she had decided upon as proper under the circumstances. El- lens mind must be diverted. Ive some nice crab-apple jelly I put up not long ago, said she. Well open a tumbler of it, and have some bread-and- butter. A rainy day like this makes you hungry. Ill light the lamp too, and it 11 be more cheerful. And how are you going to have your silk waist made? Mrs. Pettingrew glanced reproachfully at her hostess, but made no reply. For some minutes she devoted herself to the tea and the jelly. Though death might be near, the pleasures of this life had not yet lost their charm. When her cup had been filled for the second time, she spoke. Susan, she said, you know Im not one of the superstitious kind. If I had been Id have been more upset when my mirror was broken shortly after Ira and I were married, or at the many times Ive seen the new moon over the wrong shoul- der. None of those happenings has ever caused me a single tremor. But this is different. To-day, after dinner, when the dishes were washed and Ira had gone back to the store and the boys were at school and my hired girl was in her room and the house was quiet, I felt so sleepy, what with the rain and everything, I thought Id lie down a minute. Tisnt often I do - it; but all this rainy weather does make you feel different from usual. Well, I lay down, and must have fallen asleep pretty quickly, for the first thing I knew there was~Harrnah Hawkes Hannah Hawkes! interrupted Miss Todd. Yes, Hannah Hawkes, who died last week! There she was, sitting talking to me. How do you feel, Mrs. Pettin- grew? s she. I told her I was nicely, thank you. Thats strange, s she. for next week youll be where I am, s she. On Monday youre going to die. The new hearse is at the door. Come with 100 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. me and try it, s she. So she took me by the hand oh, Susan, twas an awful feeling hand! and led me out to the front gate, and there, sure enough, was the new hearse. You know Mr. Simmons only bought it two weeks ago, and Han- nah Hawkes is the only one its been used for. And just as I was stepping in be- hind her I woke up with an awful scream, and I knew my summons bad come. La, Ellen! said Miss Todd. Twas only a dream. But here her words fail- ed her. Mrs. Pettingrews manner was impressive, and the dream was a strange one. Miss Todd had heard before of dreams that came true. So it was, Susan; but I know what it means. Im going to die on Monday. To-morrow Ill lay in a stock of meat for the funeral, when Mr. Bates comes round. Its lucky its Saturday. A ham will be a good thing, and Ill bake my bread and cake so all will be ready, and Ira wont have that to bother him. I dare say it 11 be a large funeral, for folks will hear about the dream. It seems a pity I cant be there to superintend it all. I dont see how Iras ever going to manage it. Hes an awful poor hand at attending to things, she added, again glancing at Susan with peculiar meaning. But Susan was absorbed in examining the contents of the teapot. And now I want to say something, continued Mrs. Pettingrew. Ive been thinking over my past life, and thats the reason I came to see you. If Im going to die, I want my conscience to be clear. I cant say Im sorry for what I did, for I liked Ira, and I wanted him to marry me, and not to marry you. At one time it looked as though our chances were pretty even. Im not acknowledging he cared as much for you as he did for me. I never thought so; but you had this little property, and I had nothing but my face, and then I always was smarter than you in some ways, Susan. But I was fearful of losing him, so one night when he was walking home with me from choir-prac- ticing, and it was pretty dark, we saw two people in front. Twas Jennie Parker and William Sands, and she was leaning on his arm. You know Ira never did see very well, particularly at night, and he asked me if twas you. I said it looked like you; and so it did, Susan. I didnt say a word that wasnt true, all through it. Then he said, who was the man? I said,William Sands, which was also true. Then he asked me, Are they going to be married? and I said yes, for that was true. The girl was Jennie Parker, and they were going to be married. Ira was pretty quiet after that till we got to the front gate, and then he asked me to mar- ry him. Most likely hed have asked me anyhow, but Ive always felt a little un- easy when Ive thought of that night, for though I didnt say anything that wasnt true, I let him think that Jennie Parker was you. La, Susan, you neednt take it so hard! For Miss Todd had risen; and with the teapot in her trembling hands she stood and looked at her visitor. Her face had grown pale, and her mouth twitched ner- vously. I always thought there was some un- derhand doings, said she, as soon as she could speak. I knew that Ira liked me. Well, Ellen Pettingrew, I hope youve been satisfied; and Im glad something has made you confess the truth! Its a satisfaction to me, anyhow. For my part I shouldnt think youd have had a com- fortable nor a happy moment all these years, getting a man by stealthy means, so to speak, and feeling that he liked an- other woman. Ive been very happy, said Mrs. Pet- tingrew, and I dont say as twas stealthy. Neither am I at all sure he would have married you instead of me. Fact is, I dont believe Ira himself knew which one of us twas he wanted. Hes an awful uncertain kind of man, and he needed a little helping along, which you would have been too proud to give him, Susan Todd, even if youd been smart enough. But now Ive told you, and I want to settle something else. Im going to die, and Die! cried Susan. Die! Youre no more likely to die than I am. Youve just come down here to irritate me with this story. Why couldnt you have left me alone? Ive never bothered you. You never knew whether I cared or not. I went to your wedding, and I belong to the same club with you, and nobody knows anything about my feelings. Ive kep em to myself, and Ive lived my life the best way I could, and am not under any obligations to anybody, least of all to you, Ellen Pettingrew. Now Ill thank you to let me alone. The agitation of a person who is usually MRS. PETTINGREWS QUESTION. 101 self-controlled is always alarming, and Mrs. Petl~ingrew was in her turn startled. She would have liked to leave the house at once, but her purpose in coming was as yet unfulfilled; and at the risk of still further exciting her neighbor she sum- moned courage to put her question. Susan, she said, I am going to die on Monday, and before I go I must know something. I feel quite sure that when a decent time has gone by Ira will ask you to marry him. Now Im sure you wont refuse to answer the question of a dying woman. Are you going to have him? A dying woman I repeated Susan, scornfully. I tell you youre not a dy- ing woman. Any one who can drink three cups of tea and swallow more than a good half-tumbler of crab-apple aint a dying woman. And whats more, Ill never tell you. No, not if you was to lie in your last expiring gasp at my very feet, with the angels awaiting on either side to bear you up to heaven, Id never tell you ! And then, shocked at her own irreverence and spent with her emotions, Susan Todd. burst into tears and left the room. She did care, thought Mrs. Pettin- grew; and whats more, she~s cared all these years. Itll only be her pride that 11 keep her from marrying him when Im gone. Oh, if ii only knew! She waited for fully fifteen minutes, but Susan did not return. Then, putting on her water-proof once more, and getting her rubbers and umbrella from the shed where they had been left, Mrs. Pettin- grew went out into the rain and the dark- ness. The next day there was much commo- tion in the Pettingrew household. The mistress was early astir, and the broom, the dust-pan, and the scrubbing-brush were largely in evidence. Im not going to have folks from all around the mountains coming to the funeral and criticising my housekeep- ing,said Mrs. Pettingrew to herself. Its a good thing Ira chose to - day to go to Portland. A mans no use when youre house-cleaning, and he wouldnt under- stand its being done the same day with so much cooking. For Ira had not yet been told. Extra help had been procured, and while the broom was active abovestairs, bread and cake were being baked below, hams were boiling merrily, and apples were waiting to be prepared for pies. The hired girl thought that there was to be a party, and her mistress did not un- deceive her. In the midst of her preparations, how- ever, Mrs. Pettingrew found time to run down the road to the house of her neigh- bor. It was no longer raining, and the wind had changed. Weather prophets thought that the spell of weather was over, and there might be some chance of clearing, but rolls of mist still hung about the mountains, and scarcely more of the surrounding country was visible than had been for the past two weeks. Miss Todd sat in her kitchen. There was nothing to prove that she had stood for a long time at the window which com- manded a view of the Pettingrew house, that she had counted the wagons of the trades-people who had stopped at the gate, nor that the furniture set out in the yard and the curtains which streamed from the clothes-line had been seen and inwardly commented upon. At present she was knitting, and her face was calm. She bowed to Mrs. Pettingrew when she entered, but she did not offer her a chair nor even rise. Susan, said the visitor, ~ very busy getting ready, but Im most crazy with the uncertainty. I cant get it out of my mind that maybe youll have all my things. When I looked into my pre- serve-closet I said to myself, Next year maybe Susan Todd will be putting her preserves here, and maybe again she wont. If youd only tell me one way or the other, I should feel better. Susan, are you going to have him? But Susan was silent, and the only sound was the click of her steel knitting- needles. You always were an aggravating sort of person, said Mrs. Pettingrew, present- ly, but I should think youd act differ- ently with a dying woman. You dont look particularly dying, remarked Miss Todd, as she picked up the ball of yarn that had rolled from her lap. I may not look it, but Im going to, all the same. Youll be sorry, Susan Todd, when you see me in my coffin! Youll wish then youd answered me. I declare I feel now as if Id rise to a sitting posi- tion and ask you then and there before all the folks, whether or not youre going to marry Ira, if you dont tell me before 102 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. I die. Say, Susan, are you going to have him? But Susan made no answer, and once more Mrs. Pettingrew, with her curiosity unappeased, left the house and returned to the preparations for her own funeral. When Ira came home that night from Portland, all was ready. The next day was Sunday, and at the usual hour, when The hell was ringing for morning service, the Pettingrew family walked past the Todd farm on their way to church. Susan from her bedroom window watched them a~ she had watch- ed them every Sunday for the past twenty years. It was Susans custom to dress early and then wait for them to pass. When the bell ceased ringing and began to toil, she herself would leave the house, which gave her time to reach the church at just the proper moment. To-day she looked at them more criti- cally than usual. Ellen had a worn look, she noticed. She was pale, and her step had lost its usual spring. She was actual- ly allowing her best silk skirt to trail in the mud, and her bonnet strings were tied carelessly. All this Susans critical glance covered in a moment. The boys, whom she had seen grow from small toddlers to stalwart young fel- lows in their teens, walked behind their parents. The eldest was nineteen now, while the youngest was almost ten. They were nice-looking boys. No wonder El- len was proud of them! And then there was Ira. As his name came into Susans mind a hot flush spread over her thin face. Mid- dle-aged woman though she was, and hid- den behind a wooden blind, she blushed crimson as she looked at him. He was middle-aged also, now. Almost fifty, and he stooped slightly. His hair had grown thin and gray, though not much was to be seen under his large feE hat. He al- ways wore a long frock-coat on Sunday, buttoned tightly about his tall, spare fig- ure, and his trousers were somewhat short for him. Ellen glanced furtively toward the house as she passed, but Ira was talking, and did not once look that way. He pointed out the blue sky in the west, and remarked that he thought it was going to clear up for good now, most likely. You could see the top of Fox lull, which was always a sure sign. He was not thinking of Susan. He had been married for more than twenty years, and the past was not so clearly defined in his mind as in the minds of the two wo- men. It is usually the women who re- member. I wish she hadnt come and stirred me up, said Susan to herself as they passed out of sight. Shes brought it all back, and all because of a dream. Shes not going to die to-morrow any more than I am. Praps well all be dead by to-morrow night; who knows? For my part it does seem real wicked to me that any one should think they knew when they were going to die. I dont believe the Lord ever intended we should. Its real sacri- legious. And as for asking you whether youre going to marry a man that al- ready has a wife and four sons, and trying to make you commit yourself to yes or no, its a shame, and Ill never tell her. And then she realized that the bell was tolling, and Miss Todd, in her second-best gown, because it was still so damp and muddy, hurried to the old meeting-house on the hill. She was late, and she walk- ed up the & isle to her usual seat while the Doxology was being sung. She did not remember ever having been late before. It shows such thoughts are wicked she said to herself. Theyve led me into sin already. That afternoon, shortly before dusk, Mrs. Pettingrew came again to the house. Susan did not have her knitting this time, but she was reading a missionary leaflet. Her caller asked her the same question, but with the same result. Susan would not speak. This time to-morrow youll be sor- ry, said Mrs. Pettingrew as she left her. Mark my words, youll be sorry, Susan Todd! The next day, shortly after twelve oclock, Miss Todd, watching as usual from her window, saw one of the Pettin- grew boys come running down the road. He was hatless, and as he ran his feet seemed scarcely to touch the ground. Can he be going for the doctor? Susan asked herself. Nonsense! Hes only running back to school. But presently the doctors buckboard was driven rapidly past. It drew up at the Pettingrews door. Shes been taken sick ! said Susan, aloud. Its fright thats done it, but shell get over it. MRS. PETTINGREWS QUESTION. 103 In spite of her confidence, however, she shuddered. Presently the Pettingrews hired girl came out of the house. She, too, ran down the road, but she turned in at Su- sans gate. Oh, Miss Todd, Miss Todd I she cried, as she burst into the kitchen. Mrs. Pet- tingrew is dead! Susan Todd neither spoke nor stirred. She sat in her chair as one turned into stone. Such news flies quickly, and before many hours had passed the road was black with people on foot or in carriages, who wended their way to Ira Pettingrews from all the country around. The story of the dream had already spread, for Mrs. Pettingrew had told her husband of it that morning. Manlike, he had laughed at the notion, and had gone to his store as usual. When he came back at noon to dinner he found his wife in sudden and violent pain. He was with her when she died. Susan Todd alone, of all the neighbors and friends, did not go to the house. Many of them dropped in to see her on their way home, but they found her silent and unapproachable, and they went away again, remarking to one another that Susan was queerer than ever. Some re- membered the gossip of twenty years ago, and said that Ellen and Susan never had been friends since then; but wonder at the strange dream and the death filled the minds of most of them to the exclu- sion of petty gossip. And Susan sat there in her kitchen consumed with unavailing remorse. I might have been kinder about it, she said again and again. I dont know, myself, and so I couldnt tell her, but I might have been kinder. Oh, Ellen, what can I do now to make up for my harsh- nessl Alas, that is a question which few can answer. She went to the funeral and sat mo- tionless while the minister prayed and preached and the village choir sang. In the light of all that had happened she fully expected to see Ellen rise to a sit- ting position, as she had threatened, and ask her the old question once more, but nothing of the kind happened. When the long service was over, the new village hearse, the same that had been used for Hannah Hawkes, carried Ellen Pettin grew to the village cemetery. After- wards the friends from the surrounding hill country partook of the ham, the cake, and the pies that Ellen herself had made ready for them. And then all was over, and they returned to their homes. Every Sunday afternoon during the long winter months Ira Pettingrew and his four boys walked to the cemetery. When the snow was on the ground the prints of a womans feet were visible, pointing to the place toward which the Pettingrews walked, and stopping at Ellens grave. This fact made no im- pression upon them, however. Not one of them wondered whose they were. When the snow disappeared, and spring came, Ira, who went now alone, would often find a bunch of flowers laid upon the grave. Even then it did not occur to him to conjecture. Once in the early summer he chanced to meet Susan Todd. She did not see him coming, for her back was toward him, and he heard her talking to herself. I couldnt have told you, Ellen, she was saying, for I dont know myself even now, so I hope youll forgive me.~ Then she turned and saw him. He did not know what she could be talking about, hilt he was glad to see her. He had always thought Susan Todd a nice, pleasant woman, and latterly he had seen nothing of her. She seemed to keep to her house nore closely than she once did. On this occasion, instead of lin- gering at Ellens grave, he turned and walked down the slope with her. Susan scarcely spoke, and when he asked her, as he parted from her at the gate, if lie could come to see her some- times, as she was a near neighbor, and his house was a gloomy one nowadays, she replied: I dont know. I really cant tell. It was a strange answer, Ira thought, but he was a man of no imagination, and it did not trouble him. Very soon he developed the habit of dropping in at Susan Todds once or twice a week. The neighbors said that Ira Pet- tingrew was beginning to take notice, and they did not wonder. Its lonesome, said they, for a man like him, and Susan would be just the one for him. And in the course of time, when two winters snows had whitened Ellens grave, and another spring was dawning among the mountains, Ira Pettingrew 104 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. made up his mind to put the fateful ques- tion. Im lonesome, Susan, said he, and Id be glad if youd marry me. Theres no one to look after the house or the boys, and since Ellen died we dont seem to have the same things to eat. Id make you very comfortable. You can have all the hired help you want, and as much money as you like to spend. I can afford to give you more than most men about here. There aint any one else you care about, is there? You never seemed like a girl who liked beaux. Any one else! So this was the ending to her romance of more than twenty years ago. Ira had completely forgotten. To herself she said: Ellen, I couldnt have told you, possibly. I didnt know myself till this minute. I dont think you need mind, though. Aloud, No, Ira, theres no one else, nor ever has been, but She paused. Well, then, youll marry me, Susan, will you? he interrupted, with some eagerness. Im real glad. Stop I said Susan. I havent said I would. Mr. Pettingrew, theres some things a woman wants besides money and hired help and being comfortable, and I guess you cant give em to me. Ive done without em, though, for a good many years, and I can get along without em now. And so, if youll excuse me for seeming to be in a hurry, Ill say good- evening. You dont mean no, do you, Su- san ? he asked, with an astonished face. Yes, said she, it is just what I do mean. No. The front door closed, and Susan Todd was left alone. There, Ellen Pettingrew, she said, aloud, your questions answered at last, and I wonder if you know about it, and if youre as surprised as I am. And then she covered her face with her hands and cried. CHARM. BY MEREDITH NICHOLSON. IT is a presence sweet and rare, A something oft attained by Art, Yet oft possessed, all unaware, By folk of simple mind and heart. And he that has it cannot pass The secret on with gold or name; It vanishes like dew on grass, Or heat that hovers over flame. In books that man but little seeks, Neglected or forgotten long, This living essence dwells, and speaks In happy rhymes of deathless song. The subtlest of all mystic things, Tis strange indeed that it should be, When worn by poets, beggars, kings, Twin sister of Simplicity. And you that seek it never find, And you that have it never tell; And all that strive to catch and bind Can only startle and dispel. A REBEL CIPHER DESPATCH. ONE WHICH DID NOT REACH JUDAH P. BENJAMIN. BY DAVID HOMER BATES. THERE appeared in the New York Herald, in the month of July, 1896, an article headed, CRYPTOGRAPH SOLVED, in which was given a key to certain caba- listic characters on an old tombstone in Trinity Church Yard. The full inscription reads thus: Here lies deposited the body of JAMES LEESON who departed this life on the 28th day of Sep teinher 1794. Aged 38 years. The hieroglyphics at the head of the tombstone, when translated by the meth- od shown in the Herald article, reveal the motto, Remember Death, and by anal- ~gy the remaining letters of the alphabet are discovered by the writer of that arti- cle, who deserves great credit for his per- spicacity. The reading of the Herald article re- called to my mind certain rebel cipher de- spatches in 1863, which I helped to trans- late, and in which the same hieroglyphics were used. These despatches were writ- ten in New York by J. H. Cammack, an agent of the rebel government, and were enclosed in an envelope addressed to Alex- ander Keith, Jr., Halifax, Nova Scotia, to be forwarded by him to Richmond, Vir- ginia. One of them was addressed to Judah P. Benjamin, and the other to Ben- jamin H. Hill, members of Jeff Daviss cabinet. As soon as possible I confirmed my recollection by referring to my war records, and as the history of these rebel ciphers has never been written, except hriefiy, I determined to give the facts to the public, believing them to be of gen- eral interest. First let me speak of the United States Military Telegraph Staff, to whose mem- bers were intrusted all the more impor- tant military and state despatches trans- mitted from and to the government at Washington during the civil war. W. R. Plum, in his history of the Military Tele- graph, says, To the statement that, in no case did the enemy ever succeed in de- ciphering our messages, let us add that neither did any Federal cipher-operator ever prove recreant to his sacred trust, and we have in a sentence two facts that reflect infinite credit upon the corps. Plum further says that Colonel Thom- as A. Scott, Assistant Secretary of War and General Manager of Military Rail- roads and Telegraphs, called to his aid four operators from the Pennsylvania Railroad line. These operators reported at Washington on April 27, 1861, travel- ling vid Philadelphia, Perryville, and Annapolis. Their names were David Strouse, D. H. Bates, Samuel M. Brown, and Richard OBrien. This was the nu- cleus of the United States Military Tele- graph Corps, which rendered such impor- tant service to our government during the civil war. The outlines of the his- tory of that war were sketched by the telegraph. Strouse was appointed superintendent, Brown was stationed at the Navy-Yard, OBrien at the Arsenal, and the writer at the War Department, where he remained until after the close of the war as man- ager and cipher-operator, two of his as- sociates being Mr. Charles A. Tinker and Mr. Albert B. Chandler, who have long occupied high official positions in the corn- inercial telegraph service of the country. Two cipher-operators were required, to be at their post of duty during the day- time, holidays and Sundays not excepted, and, as a rule, until eleven or twelve oclock at night. On the fateful night of April 14, 1865, we remained all night for the purpose of transmitting Secretary Stantons graphic bulletins to the newspapers, giving the details of Lincolns assassination and of the scenes at his death-bed. The Federal cipher codes were very simple and yet absolutely secret, arbi- trary words being used to represent prop- er names, and also many ordinary words and military phrases. The words of the 106 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. entire body of the despatch, after being concealed in this manner, were then ar- ranged in one of over a thousand possible combinations, the particular combination being indicated by a key-word, and as each combination had several key-words, it was not necessary to use the same one twice in succession. As a feature of the combination blind words were interspersed at regular or varying intervals, which, in translation, were of course discarded. When finally prepared for transmission the despatch was wholly unintelligible to the transmitting or receiving operator, and no case is recalled of the enemy hav- ing translated a Federal cipher despatch. On the other hand, many of the rebel cipher despatches, which fell into our hands by capture or through our spies, were translated by our cipher-operators, and thus important military information was secured by our commanding gen- erals. The rebels, instead of adopting a plan similar to ours, which was at once secret and speedy, made use of the crude plan of transposing the letters of the alphabet in various ways. I remember that when John Wilkes Booth was captured there was found in his vest pocket a copy of the identical alphabet square which formed the basis of many of the rebel ciphers. In some cases the hieroglyphic plan was adopted by the rebels, and it was this method which was followed in the in- stances referred to below. As the chief feature developed by the fortunate translation of these two ciphers was a plot for the seizure by rebel emis- saries of two ocean steamers after leaving New York Harbor, it is well to recall that during the latter part of 1863 there was very great excitement in the North occa- sioned by the activity and aggressiveness of the rebel navy, and by the fact that both England and France were allowing rebel ships to be built and equipped in those countries. The newspapers were full of accounts of damage done to our shipping by the rebels, and it was feared that by means of a sudden dash they might even capture and set fire to one of our seaport cities before suitable help could arrive. Slidell, the rebel envoy, was in Europe trying to secure recogni- tion, and while he did not accomplish this result, he did obtain practical aid and comfort from English and French ship- builders. Gun-boats, iron-clad rams, and war-ships had been purchased by the reb- els, and were already on the high seas, and others were then building in Eng- land under the quasi protection of the authorities. Years afterwards, in the Ge- neva award of $15,000,000, the United Stat~s received definite acknowledgment of the fact that England, in allowing the Alabama and other rebel war-vessels to be fitted out in English ship-yards, had violated our treaty rights. The state correspondence between the United States and Great Britain in 1863 shows how serious and critical the condi- tions were, for on September 4 of that year our minister at London, Mr. Charles Francis Adams, after repeated protests addressed to the British government, re- ceived a note from Lord Russell, Prime Minister, stating that her Majestys gov- ernment are advised that they cannot interfere in any way with these vessels referring to certain iron-clad rams al- ready completed by the Lairds at Birken- head, and which were about to sally forth to prey upon our commerce. Minister Adams answered Lord Russell instantly in these words: It would be superfluous for me to point out to your lordship that this would be war. In France the situation was equally grave, for Slidell was in close touch with the French cabinet, and especially with Emperor Napoleon, the latter having in a private interview promised that certain iron-clad rams and corvettes, which were building at Bordeaux and Nantes for the rebel navy, should be allowed to sail. The Emperor also gave to the French ship-builders like assurances. On this side of the Atlantic the capture of the city of Mexico, in June, 1863, by French troops, and the selection, in Au- gust, of Prince Maximilian of Austria as Emperor of Mexico, by the hastily con- vened assembly of notables, were events of grave importance to us, and seemed likely to have an immediate and favor- able influence upon the fortunes of the Confederate cause. Secretary Seward, in September, 186~3, instructed Minister Dayton to convey to the French government the views of President Lincoln, which pointed to the maintenance by the United States of the Monroe doctrine even at the risk of ulti- mate war with France, if the latter per- sisted in imposing a monarchy upon Mexico. A REBEL CIPHER DESPATCH. 107 In October the reply of the French gov- ernment was received, to the effect that the sooner the United States showed itself satisfied, and manifested a willing- ness to enter into peaceful relations with the new government in Mexico, the soon- er would France be ready to leave, etc. This disturbance of our foreign rela- tions was creating intense anxiety in the North, and the public mind was further roused by various movements of rebel vessels, including freebooters and pirates, as well as those acting under regular commission. For instance, in September, 1863, a plot was laid by the rebels to seize the steamer Michigan on Lake Erie, and to make use of her to liberate several thousand rebel prisoners near Sandusky. Fortunately this failed in execution, but attention was strongly drawn to the latent possibilities of such movements, and the newspapers contained daily references to the subject, so that the excitement in the public mind was running high. In December of that year the United States steamer Chesa- peake sailed from New York for Portland, Maine, and when several days out from land, rebel emissaries, who had shipped as passengers, assaulted the officers and crew, overpowered them, and seized the vessel, which was then headed for the Bay of Fundy. The cruise of these pi- rates was not continued, however, because some of the crew stole the cargo and de- camped. But a far bolder plot was being hatched in New York city, having for its imme- diate object the seizure of two large ocean steamers when one or two days out by reb- el agents, who were to ship as passengers or crew. The scheme included also the shipment as freight of crates, packages, and hogsheads, ostensibly containing mer- chandise, but which in reality contained guns, small-arms, ammunition, etc., for the use of the pirates after they had over- powered the loyal crew and obtained con- trol of the ship. It will be readily seen that, at the time ieferred toDecember, 1863the seizure of two ocean steamers, and their conver- sion into privateers, would create dismay and consternation in the North, and would perhaps be followed by the capt- ure of many small craft, merchant ves- sels, and government transports, and pos- sibly the destruction of some of our sea- port cities. Meantime the rebel government was actually having a large and varied issue of Confederate bonds engraved and print- ed almost within sight of the old tomb- stone in Trinity Church Yard, and corn- munications on the subject of such bonds were passing to and fro between the rebel government in Richmond and its agents in New York city, the medium of these communications being the very same hi- eroglyphics which were carved on that old tombstone nearly one hundred years before. These deep-laid plots were fortunately revealed to the Federal authorities in time to prevent their fulfilment. The date set for the seizure of the two ocean steamers was Christmas, 1863, and only four days previous to that time the first of the two rebel ciphers was translated by the trio of War Department cipher- operators, and the Assistant Secretary of War, Mr. Charles A. Dana, started for New York at 7.30 P.M. the same day to confer with General Dix, and before the date set for the seizure of the ocean ves- sels the rebel plotters and agents had been spotted, a watch set upon their move- ments, and within a week they had all been arrested, and millions of rebel bonds seized and destroyed, instead of being used in England and France to help pay for the rebel ships of war then being built in those countries. The history of these two rebel ciphers is as follows: They were each enclosed in an enve- lope addressed to Alexander Keith, Jr., Halifax, Nova Scotia, and were mailed from New York city; the first one being dated December 18, 1863, and the second one four days later. United States Consul Jackson at Hal- ifax had previously reported that Keith was in frequent communication with rebel blockade - runners and with rebel agents in the United States. The mails were therefore being closely watched, and when Abram Wakeman, postmaster, dis- covered the envelope bearing Keiths ad- dress, which was dropped in the New York post-office on December 18, he promptly sent it to the Secretary of War, who, on seeing that the enclosure was in cipher, turned it over to the War Department clerks, who vainly puzzled over the mys- terious signs for two days. On the third day the important document was turned over to the telegraph department and 108 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY M~GAZ1NE. placed in the hands of the trio, who set to work with a determination to do what the War Department clerks had failed in doing. Horace White, now editor of the New York Evening Post, was a clerk in the War Department at that time, and may have tried to solve the puzzle. In my boyhood days I was for a short period employed in the store of John Home and Company, Pittsburg, and as one of their cost marks was based upon the thirteen prime characters taken from the two geometrical figures shown below, I was thus able to discern, perhaps more readily than my associates, the slight dif- ferences between the several characters of that series. The basis or foundation referred to is as followsthe Arabic numerals and the dollar and cent mark being shown in tl)eir respective places 123 456 789 $ 0 C Re~e~t By placing a dot in each of the thirteen spaces, all the letters of the alphabet can be represented by the above signs, thus: the first thirteen letters being shown without the dot, and the other thirteen with the dot. Thus ...J stands for A, ..J for B, and so forth. The close resemblance between these symbols and those on the Trinity tomb- stone will be readily apparent. In the rebel cipher letter the two words before this are represented by signs taken from the series last above shown, and as the letter e occurred twice, we fol- lowed the clew, but with only limited success. Meantime my associates had found other dews, there being, in fact, at least ten sep arate and distinct series of cipher charac- ters used in the Keith letter. Cammack, however, made the vital mistake of con- fining himself to only one series for any given word. Had he varied the series of symbols, taking the characters from two or more different series to represent each word, the result of our efforts might have been far different. Together we labored for hours, at first with only a few de- tached words being revealed, but little by little the whole letter was deciphered. The following is an exact copy, and is all we had to work from: ~ x+1-~ u o.~. p I ~ o AEIJ JVF%~ N~y~93o~~fiIIJ///4 ~ ~ After we had translated the above hieroglyphics, the following is what ap- peared: NY Dec18 1863 Hon JP Benjamin Secretary of State Richmond Va Willis is here The two steamers will leave here about Christmas Lamar and Bowers left here via Bermuda two weeks ago 12000 rifled muskets came duly to hand and were shipped to Halifax as instructed We will be able to seize the other two steamers as per programme Trowbridge has followed the Presidents orders We will have Briggs under arrest before this reaches you Cost $2000 We want more money How shall we draw Bills are forwarded to Slidell and re- cts recd. Write as before [Signed] JHC Two days after we had interpreted the first cipher despatch, another one, dated December 22, and also enclosed in an en- velope bearing Keiths address, was placed before us, and was quickly translated. A REBEL CIPHER DESPATCH. 109 This communication proved to be of al- most equal importance, referring as it did to the fact that Confederate notes and bonds were being engraved and printed in New York city. The second cipher was prepared in the same way as the first, and its translation is as follows: NEW YORK Dec 22 1863 Hon Benj H Hill Richmond Va DEAR SIRSay to Memminger [Secretary of the Treasury] that Hilton will have the machines all finished and dies all cut ready for shipping by the first of January The en- graving of the plates is superb They will be shipped via Halifax and all ac- cording to instructions The main part of the work has been under the immediate supervision of Hilton who will act in good faith in consequence of the large amount he has and will receive The work is beautifully done and the paperis superb A part has been shipped and balance will be for- warded in a few days Send some one to Nassau to receive and take the machines and paper through Florida Write me at Halifax I leave first week in January Should Goodman arrive at Nassau please send word by your agent that he is to await further instructions Yours truly (Signed) J H C The following telegrams to the War Department durino the week following Mr. Danas visit to General Dix, will show that no time was lost in hunting np the rebel gang and placing them under ar- rest: NEW YORK, 1 r.~., Dec. 29, 1863. Hon. Edwin 31. Stanton, Secretary of War. I have this morning seen evidence which affords good ground for the belief that the United States here is probably in full partnership with the rebel operators of this city. From long personal knowledge of the individual I have no doubt he is perfectly ca- pable of such treasonable conduct. C. A. DANA. NEw YORK CITY, Dec. 30, 1863. Hon. Edwin M. Stanto , Secretary of War: The man inside the Bank Note Co. re- ports that the work is not being done there. He says they are capable of it, and informs me they have a branch establishment at Montreal, and that there is no doubt but the work is l)eing done there. Send the proper person to Montreal and Rouses Pt. In my opinion the plates will come through to Albany, and the Western Road to Boston, and by Cunard steamer to Halifax. ROBERT MURRAY, U. S. Marshal. NEW YORK, 5.30 P.M., Dec. 31, 1863. Hon. Edwin 211. Stanton, Secretary of lVar: I have arrested Hilton, and his partner and foreman, and secured the plates for the rebel bonds, also 5s, 10s, 20s, and 50s, Confederate notes. I have arrested the lithographer and print- er, and taken possession of hiltons premises, and the lithographers, and placed a guard over them nutil the morning, and I have no doubt I shall get the machinery also. ROBERT MURRAY, IJ- S. Marshal. NEw YORK, January 1,1864. E. 31. Stanton, Secretary of War: I secured machinery and dies this morning at 2 A.M., together with several millions of dollars in bonds .and notes of various denomni- nations. I am after the maker of the machin- ery, and will get him. From an intercepted letter I learn that Cammack is in Havana. ROBERT MURRAY, U. S. Marshal. One result of our successful work in unravelling the rebel ciphers was person al in its character, but not the less inter esting to the trio, for on Christmas day General Eckert, our chief, notified us that the Secretary of Wai~ had authorized him to make a substantial increase in our sal- aries from December 1. Alexander Keith, Jr., the man to whom the rebel cipher despatches were enclosed, continued to act as rebel agent at Halifax until the close of the war, and then dis- appeared from public view, only to turn up in 1875 as Thomassen, who was blown up on the dock at Bremerhaven, Germany, by an infernal machine, which had been placed in a crate or box of merchandise for shipment to the United States. The supposition at the time was that he was engaged in the nefarious scheme of in- suring packages of little value shipped on transatlantic steamers, and one of which at least on each steamer contained an in- fernal machine, set to operate in mid- ocean and sink the vessel and cargo, Thomassen then collecting his insurance. Not long before his tragic death several ocean vessels, including tbe Boston, had sailed from port never to be heard from again. My associate in the War Department, Mr. Charles A. Tinker, was ordered to Halifax in the autumn of 1864, to watch Keiths doings, and from his observations it was generally concluded that Keith was capable of any crime in the calendar. Mr. Tinker has told me of his belief in the identity of Keith and Thomassen. A QUESTION. BY ETHEL A. IRELAND. J ASKED the wind for word of him, The wild west wind that scours the sea; But all the sky with rain grew dim, And dead leaves trembled on the tree. I asked the sea, so still and gray, Sighing strange secrets oer and oer; But with a moan it stole away, And left me on the wide, wet shore. I asked the sea-bird, proud and shy, The plaintive bird that never sings; He swoop~d towards me with a cry, And on a far wave furled his wings. I asked the moon, the harvest-moon, Hanging so still in Heavens high place; But while I spoke she paled, and soon Gathered the clouds about her face. And with a sudden throb I knew That my poor hope had been in vain; And round me wept the heavy dew, And the leaves fell, and sobbed like rain. A WOMAN WHO LOST HER PRINCIPLES. BY LOUISE BETTS EDWARDS. TO begin with, Marire was a grandmo- ther. LiFtie Mariecalled Marry by her playmates, which was sternly cor- rected into Mree whenever her gram- ma heard itwould have proved the fact, even had Marire retained any de- ceiving relics of youthful freshness; but youth and freshness had long been lack- ing from the puckered face, with shrewd, kind, saddened eyes, surmounted by an odd buttonlike knot, into which her grizzled hair was tightly drawn at the top of her head. Her fathermy only son, madame, who died in Mrees babyhood, as she has doubtless often told you wanted her called for me, but Dear preferred Marie, because it had more of a sound to it. Hes so refined, you know. Youll see him inside ; likewise Mree, unless she has finished her dinner. If you dont ob- ject to seeing us at a simple meal, Ill bring you right into the room, ma- dame. The visitor, whom she nimbly preceded, through mazes of soap-boxes and gasoline- cans and heaps of kindling-wood, toward the door of the inner room, thought she had never seen greater pomposity of man- ner in a meaner setting. No flaming- livened English flunky could have an- nounced her entrance into some glittering drawing-room with more impressiveness than that with which Marire ushered her A WOMAN WHO LOST HER PRINCIPLES. 111 into the dark, untidy, cook-stove-smell- ing room, and whispered: My husband, Mr. Mm turn. Hes so refined! Cousin of Charles Samuel Minturn, the lawyer. And aloud: V~?his lady will come in, dar- ling. She is doubtless Mrees Sabbath- school teacher. No?upon a motion of dissent. ~ Day-school, then? Temperance-school teacher, said the visitor, as Mr. Minturn ceremoniously rose and bowed. Though collarless, and arrayed in a soiled seersucker coat, he was rather handsome, with a high bald forehead, very prominent black eyes, and a white imperial. Pray excuse my hot - weather un- dress, he said. The thermometer stays at ninety in this room, as you will readily believe. Will you not join us at our meal? Marire, pour a cup of tea for the lady. The table from which he had just risen looked so uninviting, with its cups of weak drab-colored tea and its steaming soapy potatoes, that the visitor inwardly regretted her spoken regrets that she had recently lunched. But the same fine courtesy which had prompted the offer of the meal ignored any possibility that it could be refused save in a similar spirit. Its all a body can do to eat one meal, this weather, Mrs. Minturn cordially agreed, wiping her forehead with her apron, let alone two. In this one room, waving her hand around it, we are obliged to cook and eat and sleep, owing to the buildings having but one story. That accounts for the mussy appearance, which you have doubtless noticed and must excuse. There is a little wing, or shedI may call itbut we are obliged to use it for Mree to sleep in. Dear, will you talk to the lady while I call Mree in from play? No, M arire, I wont, taking her lean arm and pushing her toward the table. Youve been ironing all the morning, and now wanting to run out in the sun. Eat your dinnerI know the lady will excuse youand Ill bring Mree in. He fulfilled his word in a moment, bringing with him a large-eyed child, who giggled in embarrassed delight at the sight of the visitor, and answered all her questions in oppressed monosylla- bles. Mree likes temprance school, said Marire, beaming. And her grampa and I are very particular about sending her. I want that she should learn to shun the winecup. As a teacher in the temperance school that odd part of a modern great citys educational system, a pathetic straw put out to stem its sweeping current of crime and sorrowMiss Way had visited many poor homes, but none whose poverty so grieved, almost frightened, her as this. The squalid beings who sat passive amidst dirt and rags and destitution, with al- most the humanity stamped out of them, save a fierce groping animal love for their offspring, seemed to her creatures of another clay. But these Minturns were so terribly like the class she came from, with their careful speech, their gentle manners, their Darby-and-Joan devotion, their striving after the appear- ances of lifeshe glanced at the Not- tingham lace window-curtains and pil- low-shams, and the incongruous brass piano-lamp which stood lank and bare in one cornerand their struggle after independence, of which the grocery- shop, dingy, deserted, depressing little place though it was, spoke with elo- quence. Her heart swelled at the thought that she could do at least some- thing to widen the sordid channel into which their lives had been forced, and she had just opened her lips, when Marire spoke, slipping her arm quite simply into her husbands, without any cheap em- barrassment: Charley dear, cant you take a book and go read in the square? You tended store all morning while I ironed, and its very confining. Not that anybody came in, either. Dear is so literary in his tastes, she explained to Miss Way; he is of quite superior familycousin of Charles Samuel Minturn, the lawyer. I know Mr. Minturn said Miss Way, somewhat startled. They both interrupted her at once, and in alarm: Dont tell him you know us I Hes lost track of us, as yolks do of their poor relations, finished Marire; but I couldnt bear for him to know we were keeping a corner grocery, and not getting along at that. I always say its vulgar to be proud when youre poor, but, land sakes! Im afraid Ive a touch of it. Here Mree pulled her sleeve and her thoughts in another direction. Gram- ma, she inquired, is Miss Way going to send us to the sea-shore? Thats just what I came about, said 112 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. Miss Way, briskly, glancing from the pleased smile on the childs face to the suddenly compressed lips of the grand- mother. You are to go on the 11thI have the tickets with me, and the receipt for the two weeks board, producing some papers. You know you applied to th~ society in good season. Why, cant you go on that date? for there was a look on Mrs. Minturns face that gave her pause. Im afraid we cant go at all, said Marire. Oh, gramma, why not ? wailed Mree, and Why not? echoed Miss Way, while Dear made a third in the chorus: Ma- rire, whats turned you? Why, a month ago you were all for sea-shore, sea-shore, nothing else talked about. Ive changed my mind since then, said Marire. Her voice sounded hollow disappointedtragic. Her wiry hands closed and unclosed convulsively. Her husband could not believe his ears. Marire,he said, in a wounded tone, cant you at least tell us what tis? If its leaving me, you know I can house- keep for a couple of weeks, and I calculate the store will hold together. And you and Mree both look peaked Oh, gramma, Ill be sick, I know I will ! wailed Marie. Didnt the doctor sign a certiskit for me, and say I needed to be built up? Youre a promise-breaker; youre just that ! and she threw herself, choking with grief, fiat on the dingy floor, and beat impotently with her small angry heels on a little keg. Now dont you sauce your gramma, warned Mr. Minturn. Get up off the floor and stop making a show of yourself. I dont know what to say to you, he add- ed, awkwardly, to Miss Way; but, you see, Marirethat is, my wifeMarire and I never took charity before, and I suppose, now it comes to the point, it kind of sticks in her throat. Though why it should, after wed talked it over and she seemed quite resigned,. I dont knowdo I, Ma- rire ? The pale puckered lipsfaded petals of what had been a rose-bud mouth-opened for an instant, to close, accompanied by the same nervous movement of the hands; then opened again with abruptness: I am extremely sorry, madame. I would explain if it was convenient, but it isnot. She gulped a little, and Miss Way, instead of feeling incensed at en- countering another instance of the pa- thetic, unyielding, perpetually self-defeat- ing pride of the poor, felt a dim regret that she had come, and departing after an exchange of stiff adieux, underwent an equally vague regret in a few moments that she had not staid and argued them down with some kindly common-sense. Mree returned to her grovelling posi- tion on the floor the instant her teachers back was turned, and reiterated her inten- tion of being sick. If I cant be built up, Ill tumble down, I will. All thats kept me from tumbling down this sum- mer has been thinking of the sea-shore. Oh, gramma, and me never seen the ocean! Im tired of reading about it and looking at pictures of it and bounding countries with it, and never seeing it ! You did what you thought was right, gramma, I suppose l asked Mr. Minturn, wistfully, with a hesitating hand laid on his wifes. Never in her life before had she struck it away with that fierce gesture, and his pained, surprised face melted her to quick remorse, and his arms received her as she threw herself into them as though the two were lovers: Oh, Charley, dear, dont you be hurt! I dont suppose theres any help for things, so we must just bear and forbear with ~ But bearing and forbearing, while they came easily to Marire, came hard, bitterly hard, to her twelve-year-old namesake. First Mree sulked, then she pined, then she had a little touch of the malarial fe- ver, which always steams up in summer from undrained cellars, uncared-for gar- bage-heaps, and noisome gutters, even in districts which only tiptoe on the slums such as that which included the little shop with C. Minturn, Groceries and Provisions, on its smeary canvas sign. Mrees grandmother could scold at sulks, but the slight fever which made the doctor prescribe a trip out of the city, if possible, threw her in a panic. So Miss Way was surprised, and in her heart more gratified than she deemed it sensible to show in her face, when Mree dragged a thin little body and wan face, under a Sunday hat whose roses as well as its ribbons had been ironed out, to the by no means pretentious residence of her teacher, to ask her, Oh, Miss Way, when does temperance school begin ? The third Saturday in September. Havent you the announcement card ? Yes, in. Then, while Miss Way wait- I A WOMAN WHO LOST HER PRINCIPLES. 113 ed, Oh, Miss Way, did you know day school began on the 10th of September? Yes, Marie; so I saw by the papers. More waiting on the part of Miss Way, while the straw hat, with its bristling orange roses like imitation suns, wagged uncomfortably with the weight of thought beneath it. Marire had impressed it on her messenger th~t she was to approach her subject gradually and introduce it carelessly. So when Miss Way finally asked, Was that all you came to see me about ? Mree coughed a little, coyly, as she had seen her grandmother do, and announced: Well, Miss Way, the fack isthe facks are stumbling a little on the gram- matical pitfalls of her grown-up phrase gramma sent me to inquire, if you please, Miss Way, couldnt they send me to the sea-shore alone? I know you said they couldnt, but gramma sent me to ask, Miss Way. When Miss Way, holding the trem- bling, eager little girl by one hand, ar- rived, within ten minutes, at the door of the little grocery, Marire was on her knees by the step scrubbing. Mree uttered an exclamation of dismay. Grampa dont like her to do that one bit, she said. He says Im young and strong and can do itand so I can, but I forget just awful. But grampas aspect was altered in some way so indefinable that for a mo- ment Miss Way could not analyze it. Like many of the best people in the world who labor against its deepest-rooted evil, she did not know her enemy well by sight. Mr. Minturn stood with his back against a barrel of kindling-wood, ey- ing his wife, his grandchild, and their visitor morosely. The contrast with his usual suave manner was sharp. He grunted unpromisingly in answer to Miss Way~s salutation, and the temperance teacher felt herself suddenly dragged rather than guided into the shop. You forgot to order onions, Pet, said Marires voice, more tremulous and rapid than usual. Go and get some, theres a love. Do, now, she urged, her face working somewhat. In Miss Ways ear she whis- pered, in the same swift tremolo: Please be so obliging as not to notice him, ma- dame. This is not usual with himoh, very unusual! Hes so refined when hes himself. Both women shrank back a little as, without deigning any answer to his wifes entreaty, he strode past them to the doorway of the little dining-room, and there addressed Miss Way: Youve come to take em away to the shore? Thats right. Do em both good. Do me good too. Marire wants a change from watching me like a hungry dog watches a bone. When women get old and ugly, seems as if all theyre good for is watching and nagging. That is what I want to speak about, began Miss Way, hurriedly, with cheeks flaming for a fellow-womans pain and shame. She did not look at Marire, or at anything save Mrees big, uncompre- hending eyes. Marie gave me your message, and I am very sorry, Mrs. Mm- turn a dawning realization of the state of affairs lending sincere emphasis to the words that it is against the rules of the Sea-shore Home to admit children without guardians. You can see it wouldnt do. They cannot take the re- sponsibility, especially of a girl of Maries age. But Mree is so good, said poor Ma- rire. I never let her go with coarse, rude girls in the street, but keep her mostly with her grampa and me. Have you noticed, her language is so refined, madame? Im going after those onions, said her husband, abruptly, befor~ Marie~s teacher could answer. Here, Marie, what are you gaping around for, instead of finishing the steps your gramma was down on her poor old knees scrubbing? Run along ! and she fled from under his rough hand with the fleet gait and fright- ened face of a child who is not used to being struck. As he slouched away and out of sight, without a backward look, Marire, who had borne his taunts with stanch dignity, suddenly threw her dark apron up to her face. Always that 1 she said, in a stifled voice. Always thinking of me, and loving of me, even when hes saying hard things, and never that unless hes been to thethe corner. Miss Way knew that the distracted flick of her hand indicated the establishment diagonally opposite, opulent in colored glass and bright-stained woods and elaborate brass-work, across whose threshold whoever passed trod, it is safe to say, on the heart of some wo- man. Now you know, continued Marire, still in the same stifled tone behind the 114 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. dark gingham curtain, why I cant go. I hoped youd think it was pride, or me being afraid Mree would mix with bad children and learn bad ways. It aint either ! relapsing in her despair out of the refined vocabulary in which she had been at such pains to imitate her husband. Its that Charley, that used to detest the corner as much as me and Mree, and would no more think of going inCharleys starting in to drink, and I dont dare leave him. You dont know anything about drinking, she pursued, clinching her lean hands to- gether. You think you do; and youre all right to teach temperance to Mree, for she dont know anything about it either. She thinks her grampas sick. these spells. I know about drinking! My father drank, and my two brothers, and night after night of my life theyd come home queer and ugly, just as Char- ley does. If Charley were to strike me, as they used to, times, I think I would die. I cant leave him, for Mree or any- body else, and I cant let him see why I stay, for hes that sensitive it would make him sad, and I cant bear to see Dear sad. When hes himself, you have seen for yourself how elegant and considerate he is. I suppose it is as bad for your busi- ness as it is distressing to your mind, said Miss Way, at a loss for more delicate words in which to convey the lesson she felt it her duty to enforce. The quick blood rose resentfully in Marires sunken cheeks. Dont you believe it! she cried, indig- nantly. Some people lose their living because of it, Im not denying, but thats not Charley! All the years we were mar- ried he never did it, till now he does it to drown his disappointment. Maybe if Id been brought up refined the same as Dear, and been disappointed again and again in business, until I come most to starving, cept that you cant starve in a grocery- store, Id drink too; though I hope not, for my principles are strongstrong as his used to be. Oh ! with a sudden choking sob dont you coax me to go, for I cant care if I get sick, or even if Mree gets sick, for Ive got to stay and save my husband from going to ruin, if anybody can. Dont let Mree come in and coax me either, for I cant bear it. The atmosphere of the greater tragedy which had been unfolded to her inexperi enced eyes hung so closely and darkly upon Miss Way that she did not see the lesser, but no less real, one written in Mrees eyes, brimming with hope, which she raised as the teacher passed out. See ! she cried, from her knees before the door-step, which fairly blazed with cleanliness. Ill bri?ng some sand borne from the sea-shore and scour it whitern ever. Youve fixed ~t with gramma, havent you, Miss Way? Alas for Miss Way! Her mind was a human one and narrow-built, incapable of considering more than one outside sor- row at a time. Happy the mind which can considei~ that one! Her puzzled young brows frowned all the gladness out of Mree. I wouldnt bother grandma about that now, she said, absent-mind- edly. But Mree, thus lightly dismissed by her elders, was experiencing, and most acutely, the great primal pang of sentient existencethat one cannot dismiss ones self. Marire, in her earlier hopeful mood, had painted glorious bubble pictures of the much-talked-of sea-shore, till the child had sincerely looked forward to a place which was a combination of heaven, as described in the Pilgrims Progress and the Sunday - school books, the tropical zone, as set forth in an enthusiastic scar- let- bound gift- book on Life in Torrid Climes, and New York city, as a travelled schoolmate of untrammelled imagination had depicted it. With her grandmother usually crying and her grandfather usual- ly cross, her sharp young elbows wearing through her Sunday dress and no other coming to replace it, life grew so thorny to Mree that when, near the close of the month, she broke her arm by falling down the dark cellarway, she was positively pleased. It was not a serious fracture, necessitating only two or three days in bed; and during those days, while her grandmother sat with an anxious, ever- puckered face by her side, and Miss Way brought her flowers and a charlotte-russe, she was certain of doing one of two things, she did not care whichdying and going to heaven, or living and going to the sea-side. The doctor said he had never seen such resignation. It was not resignation; it was exultation, especially when he said, briskly, Now if you can get het away and left the sentence un- finished. Miss Way fairly started, on coming down to her summer - darkened parlor one day to receive two visitors, to see that both were dressed for a journey, and that Mree clutched a battered valise. We are going, madame, said Marire, with her customary dignity, but an ashen pallor on her cheeks. Her tone was sol- emn, hushed, portentous, as if announcing that an irrevocable die had been cast. I have out and told Dear what obstacle stood in the way of Mree and me taking that little pleasure-trip; Ive made that sacrifice, Miss Way. He was overcome poor boy; no more nor less than over- come; and hes promised iii the name of the day we were married, and Maries poor dear fathers grave, and I dont know what all, to stay away fromthe cornertill we come back. Oh, the Lord send he keeps to it! He wept, Miss Way; he wept tears, and he said: Im getting old and tired, Marire, and the struggle for existence he always expresses himself so well, you know is getting so close, and the busi- ness dont pay, and theres not much taste to anything any more, and so I~m tempt- ed. But Ill try to keep out of it till you come back. I love you, Marire, my hus- baud says to me, her voice breaking a Yoi. XcVII.No. 577.i 6 little, and I wont be a stumbling- block in the way of your sea-shore. But I dont know that I can get you off this way, without a moments notice cried Miss Way, between laughter and tears. She did know, however, even as she spoke the words, for she was resolved that this toil-worn woman who was tired too from the struggle for a tasteless ex- istence, and yet refrained even from be- in g tempted, should have her little holi- day, though all the charitable red tape in the universe were broken through. Once afloat on the river, however, in the huge puffing steamboat which was to bear them to their destination, the grand- mother of Mree cast all her care to the ocean breeze, which, though but a few miles out of the city, she declared she could already scent. She came out in an entirely new character, which amazed Mree, while jt rather frightened her; for surely gramma would lose her balance if she leaned that perilous distance over the deck railing, or be brought into unplea- santly emphatic contact with the big pil- lars as she skipped as lightly as a girl from spot to spot, froni fore to aft, pointing out to her companion, with great interest and ALWAY5 THAT! 5HE SAID IN A STIFLED VOICE. 116 HAIRPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. rather less accuracy, the various places they passed. A withered witch in a folk- tale, who had brewed herself a potion to restore youth, could scarcely have lost wrinkles and gained animation more rapidly with the passing moments than did Marire, whose excitement won the fleeting but kindly attention of every passenger. That summer garden there wasnt built or thou~ht of when your grampa and I sojourned to the sea-shore together, she said to Mree, illustrating with her forefinger. I want you to promise me, Mree, that you will never, go to one of those places, for I consider them highly injurious. Dear and I had only been married a little while then, and every- thing seemed so newso new. We have never took-I should say takensuch a journey since. It must be lovely to be a bride, sigh- ed Mree, overwhelmed at the thought of the years of deprivation between twelve and twenty. It depends on who youre bride to, said her grandmother, judicially. Hus- bands like your grampaso refined al- ways, and so devoted dont grow on every bush. Even your poor dear father and your poor dear mother. Mree, wasnt so happy She suddenly stopped. I wonder what grampas doing now? was Maries next remark-fatal in its in- nocence. Marire started as though some evil insect had stung her. The gray shade that had fallen from her face passed over it again; the Elixir of Youth was ebbing from her veins, leaving, if anything, deep- er traces of age and toil than before. Why did you mention the subject, Mree? Her hands became tremulous, her voice almost querulous. What should he be doing but tending to the store, and working hard for you and me, as he always does? In her minds eye she saw a brilliant, baleful eye of light blinking defiance to her over the low swinging door that wo- men so hatea cruel magnet for the well- meaning, wavering feet of her dearest hope and pride. He promised me about it, she said to herself, in defiance of that defiance. I dont remember that I ever asked Dear to promise me anything before, and he would surely keep it for a week. When brought face to face with the monotonous strip of shell-strewn sand, with a vast, incomprehensible, noisy sea lapping at its farthest ledge, Maries face grew grave, almost reproachful. While not prepared to acknowledge herself dis- appointed, she was i~eserving her judg- ment on a place which had not as many blades of grass as grew between two pave- ment bricks at home, and where the ocean which played so important a part in ge- ography lessons spent its time in a capri- cious game of catch-me-tag, with no more substantial purpose than to deposit a line of soapsuds on the shore, then re- treat. As her grandmother and she undressed in the tiny cubby-hole which, to Marires deep grati fication, was granted them in- stead of a charity dormitory, sheasked, in tones of disapproval, How long have we got to stay here, gramma? Marire, the wife of her husband, felt her heart leap with hope, even as she an- swered, with some sternness: A week at least, child. Less than that would be un- grateful and disgraceful. Dont you think youll enjoy yourself, Mree? All the while her heart was singing, Charley! Charley! Im coining right back to take care of you, Dear! But the colors of tIme next day were as different as they always are. Sleep had blotted out the vividness of Mrees tower- ing ideals, and she was content, like other children, to take the sea-shore as it was. And there were other girls of her own age, to whom the same gracious charity had given a weeks pleasuregirls whom her anxious grandmother could approve as her companions. But while Marie raced and waded, and shouted and laughed, and forgot to take any care of the arm which she still wore in a sling, the gray shade on the face of Marire deepened and deepened. It was no use, she told herself, dejectedly. She couldnt be happy here without Dear, even if it was safe to leave him,with every minute bringing some reminder of their never-to-be-forgotten bridal journey. And every minute brought, too, the conviction that it was not safe to leave hini. It aint just the drinking, she told herself, pacing distractedly up and down the beach. He does that when Im home, mores the sorrow. But with so many bad, quarrelsome men as go to thethe corner, and gasoline-barrels in the cellar, and alloh, anything might happen to my husband, and I bhieve something will, if I dont go to him right quick. A WOMAN WHO LOST HER PRINCIPLES. 117 That second night was too much for her. Close upon ten oclock she rose from her bed, resolved, yet trembling. Maries browned cheek was pressed tightly to the pillow in the heavy sleep of tired childhood. Her grandmother allowed no stirrings of remorse for the possible cur- tailment of the childs h6liday to turn her. Charley was important. Other things were trifles. They wont have the heart to send her home,with that arm in a sling, she mur- inured, as she rapidly dressed, before the weeks up. Anyway. if they do, she will have one moie day than if I took her along. Theyll take care of her if I leave her, but theres nobody to take care of Darling if I leave him ~ny more. The quiet household put out its lights at nine. Mercifully for Marire, a forgot- ten dead-latch made her egress from a side door of the building easy. The rail- way station was not far from the Home, .and she was seated in the train and with several miles start on her journey before the conductors curt refusal of her boat ticket, with Issued by the Fresh-Air Charity stamped right across it, awak- cued her to realities. But I must go to the city. She had started up with terror in her eyes. Ive a dollar: wont that do? Ive got to go to my husband, I tell you, and she wrung her hands till the worn old wedding-ring cut into her worn old fingers. Is he dying? asked a fellow-passenger, in hushed tones, with his fingers straying near his pocket. Maybe lie is, fairly sobbed Marire, her nerve completely gone. I dont know just what is wrong; but I must get home to him, or Ill die myself. In per- fect apathy she watched the liberal-heart- ed passenger hand the price of her fare to the conductor, who passed on with an ~appeased nod; and she, on whose pride every cent of alms-money would ordinari- ly have burned like molten iron, scarcely thanked him, but sat motionless through the rest of the journey, her furrowed fore- head bowed against the ledge of the seat before her, her distracted fancy roving through a vale of terrors. The presenti- ment of evil had been strong that had urged her at once passive and practical nature into a step so sudden and irration- ~al. With every whirling moment came the deeper conviction that Dear had not ~xnerely broken his vow of sobriety, but that some awful calamity had overtaken him in consequence of her desertion. Eleven oclock, a lively hour in the slum district proper, or improper, is a quiet one on its border-lines of narrow stieets, where shabby gentility struggles against squalor. On Marires street the only wakeful thing was the great wicked winking eye of light over the stained- glass transom of the saloon, which had shone across a State to light her distracted footsteps home. To what ~ She sobbed aloud, and shook her fist vindictively at its swinging door, yet did not stop and listen, crouched on the sill, for Charleys voice, as she had often done before. The presentiment to whose leadings she had delivered herself urged her on ward to the sunken little one-story shop, whose white awning sign, fluttering in the dim moon- light, put her in mind of a shroud. Just as she pushed open the unlocked door, however, a sound from within ar- rested her worst fears. It was a groan. A groan such as could only come from a sick and anguished heart; but yet Oh, dear and good Lord, hes living! wept Marirethe words turning cold oii her lips, however, as her eyes followed the pale ray of light from the bowed shutter of the store window. It was not the place itself, unutterably sad and squalid and desolate in its disorder, its poverty, its half-empty cobwebby shelves, and unre- plenished jars and boxes. It was not even the grizzled head bowed on the count- er, which had been raised at her entry, to regard her with heavy, startled eyes. It was a faintly glittering object which lay on the counter beside him, whose sinister outlines there was no mistaking even in the dimness. Marire shrieked, and sprang to drag it from him, but he closed his hand jealously on the cold steel. What are you coming back for, Ma- rire? he muttered, hoarsely. Oh, my God, hes broke his word, and hes not himself ! cried Marire, still strug- gling desperately with the witness of her eyes to the reality of that terrible object on the counter. No, Ive not broken my word. He spoke dully at first, then with a sudden vehemence. Ive not drunk a drop since you left .town; but, by Heaven! Id have had to to-night if I hadnt chosenthis instead. No, dont interrupt me, Marire; my minds made up. I couldnt hold out any longer; I can never pick up and re form, for all your staying home in the world, and I wont be a drag and a curse to you any longer. A curse! Marire could say no more. Yes, I am. You didnt dare to leave meyou wouldnt ever dare to leave me for fear Id begin it all again, just as I seemed safe. What brought you back here so early from your one little trip away you had counted on so much? I know. It wasnt that you didnt like the place; it was because something said to you, Charleys been drinking again! Oh, I wish he had been drinking! She wrung her hands over and over in a helpless panic of fear. The sight of that grisly weapon on the counter, the tone of impassive determination in his voice, near- ly drove her mad. When you werent -yourselfyou spoke ngly to me. You didnt care whether you were a curse to me or not. Oh, isnt there any one can stop him? Marire, he said, in the same cold, firm tones, as she ti~rned to open the door, you can call somebody in if you like, and get the whole thing in the paper, our names and all Marires strength sunk in herbut it wont do any good, for Ill do it some other way, some other time. Im tired of drinking, I tell you, and Im tired of living; and Ive got to do one if I do the other. Maybe if I kept on liv- ing and drinking Id even get tired of you, Marire, like other men do The first quiver came in his v& ice. Oh, Charley, my dear, darling love She had thrown her arms desperately around his neck. Her lined cheek lay against his gray locks, and one shaking hand withheld his from the dreaded thing on the counter. Stay and be tired of in e; I dont care if you do. Id rather have you drinking than not have you at all. Why, Ive got to have you! Ive lost my principles. I want you anyway. Oh, Charlev ! as his body, emaciated from semi-starvation, and the still more awful deprivation of his accustomed stim- ulant, swayed backward out of her arms in a sort of swoon. Somebbdy come! My husbands fainted ! she screamed; and before the words were out of her mouth, and two passers-by hastily pushed SHE KNELT AT HER HU5BAND5 FEET. A WOMAN WHO LOST HER PRINCIPLES. 119 in through the door, she had arranged a and its dark contents crawled like thick desperate plan, blood in the sawdust strewn on the floor. To the saloon I she said, hoarsely, It stained the decent black of Marire s anticipating their question Where shall best gown as she knelt at her husbands we carry him ? as they raised the spare feet, with her arms clasping his knees. figure in their arms. Charley Minturn Charley, she gasped, in a voice of opened bewildered eyes upon Marire, spent strength, can you hold out against walking very straight and stern-eyed at me, Marire, your beloved wife, a-begging the side of the two astonished-looking and praying you on her knees to drink men, who were half dragging, half car- it and forget whats troubling you? rying him into a place which seemed I must, Marire, almost in a whisper. strangely, loathsomely familiar. Its Two menthe rescuers of the would-be fierce lights beat into his eyes; its thou- suicide, one of whom still carried the cap- sand stenches nearly suffocated him. tured revolverrose, as if suddenly sick- But his wife gave him no time for ques- ened, and left the room-arrested, how- tions or retreat. Watched half fearfully ever, at the doorway by the swift change by all the men in the place, especially in the tone of the woman,who, springing by the barkeeper, to whom the presence to her feet, cried, excitedly: of a woman in the room always meant Then youve got no reason to kill your- trouble, she dragged the half - stupefied self, Charley Minturn! If you can hold man forward with the abrupt demand, out against me a-tempting you, cant you Give him something to make him hold out against yourself, or anybody in drunk. the world? Oh, Charley, my dearest dar- How? said the barkeeper. hingboy, you didnt think of that, did you? Give him something to drinkbeer, and all the tears her tense agitation had spirits, anything. Quick~ Ive got the held back came with one mighty gasp, as money ! as he hesitated. her husbands arms enfolded her, and he No, no, Marire. The mans voice murmured in her ear some words no one was low and agonized. Im tired. of present could hear, and no one wanted to drinking. Oh, dont let me see it ! be- hear. The barkeeper had turned his face seechingly. Where are your princi- away, and the few other men who still ples? lingered had not the courage to look at Ive lost my principles, she said, sto- the gray-headed man and woman, who, nily. Id rather lose anything in the closely clinging to each other, walked out world than you. When he was drunk of the garish-lighted,evil-smelling, frowzy in explanation to the man at the counter room,with the triumphant step of a bridal he never talked of killing hisself. He couple passing from the altar with new had his spirits. I want his spirits kept vows on their lips. Almost immediately up. Here, Charley dear, and she pushed with their departure the great eye of toward him a half-empty glass which prismatic light over the saloon doorway stood on the counter. The barkeeper, was suddenly extinguished, the hour who had not made the least motion in when the law commanded its short sleep obedience to her command, watched the to begin having arrived. There seemed strange scene in perfect silencethe two something symbolic in the incident. As pallid faces with their burning eyes gaz- the two men by the doorway moved ing into each other; the trembling hand slowly off in the pale pure moonlight which pushed the goblet of temptation which was lighting Marire and her hus- nearer and nearer; the trembling hand band home, one said to the other, whfch warded it away. Think that was what she was driving I never thought to see you tempt at ? meMarire, said her husband,brokenly. Naw. She didnt know what she was The muscles of his face were hard with drivin at. She was half crazy, and the anguish. I wont give in; Im done thought just come to her; that was all. with everythingdrinking and all. He Think hell be drinking again? swayed heavily again, as if age had come mused the first speaker. No? What suddenly to him. The glass fell from makes you know? Marire Minturns fingers with a light I dont know; Im just sure. Reason tinkle, which somehow sounded louder in is, I dont feel as if Ill be drinking my- the strained silence than a thunder-clap, self in a hurrynot after to-night. VOL. xcvlLNo. 577.i 7 A STUDY OF A CHILD. BY LOUISE E. HOGAN. PSYCHOLOGISTS, physicians, and ed- ucators have for many years been seeking opportunity to study individual records of children. Dr. Sully tells us that the greatest desid- eratum to -day for practical results in child-study is the study of individual children as they may be approached in the nursery; that environment, heredity, and methods of education should all be noted in relation to the child in question. In view of the fact that children as well as their environments differ very widely, he says we need to know much more about these variations, that there is no substitute for the careful, methodical study of the individual child, and that the co-operation of the mother is indis- pensable, as the knowledge of others nev- er equals that of the mother. He pre- dicts that women will become valuable laborers in this new field of iirvestigation if they will only acquire a genuine sci- entific interest in babyhood and a fair amount of scientific training. He indi- cates the necessity of careful training in observation, because a child is very quick to see whether he is being observed; and as soon as he suspects that you are espe- cially interested in his talk, he is apt to try to produce an effect. The wish to say something startling or wonderful will, it is obvious, detract from the value of the utterance. Susan Blow says, pertinently, not- withstanding all that has been said and written about conforming to the different stages of natural development, we still make knowledge an idol, and continue to fill the childs mind with foreign mate- rial, under the gratuitous assumption that at a later age he will be able, through some magic transubstantiation, to make it a vital part of his own thought. But glaring as are our sins of commission they pale before our sins of omission; for while we are forcing upon the childs mind knowledge which has no roots in his experience, or calling upon him to exercise still dormant powers, we refuse any aid to his spontaneous struggle to do, and learn, and be that which his stage of development demands thus killing the creative activity, the absence of which in later life we deplore and endeavor to recreate. It is true that it is the excep- tional mother or teacher to - day who takes up this question in any but a super- ficial manner, but it is not too much to hope that the day will come, and that very soon, when the practical results of the science of child-study will have per- meated every home 6f intelligence, kin- dergarten, and school, and when moth- er, nurse, kindergartner, and primary- school teacher will work hand in hand, without stepping over the line forbidden for normal physical development. From a foundation like this should arise a na- tion of people possessing such marked in- dividuality and productive capability as would conclusively demonstrate the value of the work that has been done. This field, which, as Dr. Preyer pointed out, has been lying open for hundreds of years, has been little trodden, and is there- fore virtually new. The chief workers have been Comenius, Pestalozzi, Rousseau, Froebel, Herbart, Horace Mann, and finally Preyer, whose work in individ- ual child-study, with Darwin, is widely known. Similar work is now being done by Sully, Harris, Baldwin, Stanley Hall, and many others. In a letter of singular charm which I received recently from Dr. Preyer, he says: Since fifteen years, when the first German edition of my book on The Mind of the Infant was published, I have wished that a lady, after having studied the work done, would let a child devel- op itself naturally and without contin- ually interfering with Mother Nature. I actually brought my boy up in this way, and he is always happy. The boy you have observed seems to have been edu- cated in a similar way; I feel nearly sure we are sailing carefully but with energy in exactly the same direction. I think the wish I mentioned will soon be fulfill- ed by you to my hearts content. Mind you do not go too deep into psychology controversies would spoil the effect of your observations, which in many cases may serve as a practical guide without any commentary. .. . When some years ago I was often asked to write a popular nursery psychology with my pedagogical A STUDY OF A CHILD. 121 rules, II always answered that such a manual must be written by a mother who has not intrusted her baby to nurses, but brought it up and thoroughly studied it lovingly herself, and I added that I would help any lady who would undertake the lengthy but very pleasant work. The recent and much lamented death of Dr. Preyer adds special significance to these words, and they illustrate very clearly the comprehensive character of the work to which his life was given. Seven years ago, following suggestions such as these, I began to observe a child systematically, endeavoring to keep con- stantly in view the fact that he was but one of many, and taking no liberty of expression whatever beyond recording facts. The child referred to was trained under what mioht be called the Pestaloz- zian principle of letting alone with uncon- scious supervision, in a carefully guarded environment which supplied a great num- ber of centres of interest that were full of indirect suggestion. No formal teaching of any kind was allowed until the end of the sixth year, but all questions were care- fully answered, and effort was made to see that the answers were clearly understood. Servants were instructed to refer him to his parents for answers to all questions they did not themselves comprehend, and sufficient supervision was given to see that these directions were followed. All baby talk was forbidden, and great care was taken to enunciate distinctly. Sur- roundings were carefully planned to meet the growing needs of the child from the moment he began to notice things. The record is therefore one of spontaneous de- velopment of self - activity, produced as a result (1) of suggestion based upon a carefully considered environment, (2) of accurate and sympathetic explanation given only when asked for, and (3) of carefully graded steps that were taken one at a time. Self-restraint upon the part of the parent or teacher is a necessity when developing children, in order to pre- vent giving more information than the child can absorb. Whilst the gradual development of an infant during its first year may be of great interest to both scientist and mo- ther, the quaint and fanciful tangents of a childs self-activity during the years following closely upon ififancy are the most absorbing to the general reader, and for this reason the following selections have been made as illustrative of various stages of unconscious growth, and as not altogether of simply scientific interest. Again following Dr. Preyers sugges- tion, the extracts are given as originally written, with but occasional comment, leaving the reader to read between the lines and draw his own conclusions. RECORD. April 11, 1891.Fourteen months old. I was reading aloud from Punch and Judy, which is fully illustrated, when I came to the place where Punch says, Oh, my nose, my best Sunday nose ! Harold touched his nose, then bent over and touched mine, and leaning hi.s head against my shoulder, screwed up his face in a grin and laughed loud twice in succes- sion. The book was given to him when he was a year old, and ever since receiv- ing it he has shown great delight when he sees the picture where Punch and Judy are turnin~ their faces to each oth- er, and Judy says, Punchy, wunchey, dear old Punchy. Harold always laughs aloud when he sees this, and at any time of the day or night I need but say the words to make him laugh. Once I whis- pered them to him in the middle of the night when he was restless, and he laughed loud, was diverted for the moment, turned, and fell asleep. (The record shows to present date that he is keenly alive to fun, and advantage of the fact was often taken for diverting him from what might otherwise have proved a source of trouble.) About this time he learned what no, no, meant. A cover that was used for a water-pail in the room next to his seemed to attract him very much on ac- count of a hole in its centre, through which we would occasionally find him poking his fists. One day he was found there pretending to wash his hands. We then began to take him away from it and say No, no, doing it quietly but per- sistently. One day nurse and I followed him at intervals no less than twenty times to do this, as a matter of experi- ment, to find out whether he could learn what inevitable meant. Frequently he seemed to understand what we were trying to do, for he would often run away from us and go directly there, as if in a spirit of mischief, look at us and laugh as he stood there, whilst at other times he would walk up to it gravely, 122 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. stand there, shake his head, and say, No, no. We had the same experience with a linen-closet, the lower shelf of which had a little door, which he could pull open very easily, and the lock of which we often found him examining very intent- ly. (The record shows a keen interest in mechanics.) We would find him sitting before the closet, door open, and all thee clean towels scattered about him. He seemed to take a special delight in rum- pling them. We took him away every time, saying, No, no; they belong to mamma. He soon understood that this too was forbidden ground. From this date we began systematically to teach him to consider the rights of others, and to touch nothing that did not belong strictly to himself. (The record shows that this was carried out unfailingly, but without severity in order to keep the child fearless, and re- sults recorded show complete success in the effort.) A few days after the first experience with no, no, he ran away from us through two rooms, going directly to the water-pail, crowing all the way as though he thought he would get there before we could catch him. He did get there, and laughed as if he did it for fun, stood and waited for nurse to take him away, when he went without a struggle. He has begun dancing when he hears the street organs, but only when he hears a suitable rhythm. (When seven years old he showed a marked sense of rhythm, and although he had received very little musical in- struction, lie then picked out very pretty harmonies.) April 16, 1891.He has had blocks for some time, but he began to build with them to-day for the first time of his own accord, placing five or six on top of each other with great care and precision. The words he has tried to say since November, when he was nine months old, are as follows, given in their order of acquirement: oh ; main main; habem ; gibem ; ups-a-da-da ; wow-wow ; bow-wow; ba and ba-ba for papa; by-by; ssss (which he says to dogs, cats, etc., point- ing his finger at them as he says it); cock for clock; ga for cat; rub- a-dub-dub. He also imitated the crow- ing of a cock so well one day when in the country that the cock answered, and it became a favorite pastime during the weeks visit. May, 1891.He said out distinctly to-day. He has said outs for some time, but we could not discover what he meant until this month, when we heard him say it when he stuck himself with a pin. We then traced the connection be- tween his expression and a word used by one of the servants, ouch, and had a practical demonstration of the influence of an uneducated servant upon a child learning to talk, for it took a long time and much patient effort to teach him to drop this expression. August 17, 1891.When he awoke this morning he said door, pointing to it. Then he pointed to the bell, and said to a servant, Bridyet, door-bell ringing. This was his first attempt at connecting words in a sentence of any length. He is now eighteen months old. He sleeps soundly; it appears as if he does not want to wake, for whenever he is disturbed he seems annoyed, not exactly cross, and falls asleep again as quickly as he is let alone. I have noticed that when he is well and eats a light early supper he sleeps sound ly. The least indiscretion at his supper- time, or too much excitement after five oclock, invariably causes restlessness. He still says puddy for pussy; says peep- oh, and plays it on the slightest provoca- tion; grows more affectionate every day; runs up and touches me, lays his head or hands against me, and says bavy in a long-drawn-out tone of affection that is indescribable. (The record shows this same habit, lat- er on, when he would say to his mother, in the same manner, mommies pwecious boy, or mommies sootheart, or pop- pies darlin.) September 24, 1891.To-day lie said water instead of wat. He also said Tottie for Topsy, his dogs name. October 8.He said han, then fan, to-day for fan. October 18.He wanted to sit on a chair that had a towel on it. He brought it to me, saying towel distinctly, for the first time. From Oetoberl to 21.He said cushy for cushion; neeze for sneeze, arid at the same time imitated a sneeze he heard; baa-baa, when looking at a picture of sheen; goose ~ choo-choo-walk-carry- papa, all in one sentence, when his fa- ther went to town one morning, and he A STUDY OF A CHILD. 123 seemed very anxious to go with him; scissors; fork; poon for spoon; Gacky for Jacky; Tossy for Topsy; Bahdee, the name of a friends cat which we were taking care of at the time. October 19.He said hat and cuckoo in one sentence on seeing a picture of the child N., who lived in a house containing the cuckoo - clock, be- cause the child N. had his hat on in the picture. He said hanger for hammer. Said wet for the first time. October 20.Said winnow for win- dow, coach~ and horsey-moo. Said moo to a cow, also. Whenever he hears the door-hell ring he says bell. One day recently the electrician was here to repair the bell. He was very much in- terested, and watched him closely. Later in the day he said to a servant, Bishy, stairs hell wats (meaning watch). To- day he reached for his tooth - brush, and said, Toot-broush he now says ~broushinstead of brnh, as he did at first. Said baksy for basket; pitty for pretty. When he gets cross and cries, we say No, no, pretty, and he repeats pitty, and clears his face at once, many a time looking up at us smiling, with tears still in his eyes. (The record shows conclusively how suggestion and diversion always conquer- ed, where opposition with his temperament would no doubt have failed.) November, 1891.He counted 3, 4, 5, 6, 9, to-day, voluntarily. Some time ago his nurse counted a few cards for him, saying, 1, 2, 3, 4; he at once picked up 3, 4, say- ing fee for three, and ever since he has called his cards fee, fours.~~ When we count them for him now, he says six as soon as we say fi ye; also ten after we say nine. To-day, instead of re- peating or counting with us, he said the above numbers himselfi. e., 3, 4, 5, 6, 9. (The record shows exceptional interest in numbers later on.) To-day, when hearing a baby cry, he said, Poor bavy! (When but five months old he would cry also when he heard another baby cry, and at seven the same tendency existed.) December 1, 1891.This evening he saw some one blow smoke rings from a cigar, and he said, Big ring; noder one, when begging for more. At one oclock in the night he waked, and said immediately, Big ring; noder one, in a perfectly natural way, as if there had been no in- terval. January 1,1892.Nearly two years old. He discovered letters on his milk-bottle this evening, when he held it up empty between himself and the gas-light. One of the words on the bottle had a double 0 in it. He pointed to one, said 0, then pointed to the next and said Noder one, then cried out, delightedly, Dubble U, meaning W. Then he found D, 5, K, and I, and repeated each as if glad to see it. He now counts correctly from 1 to 14. To-day he wanted to take a dust-pan to bed with him when he took his nap. I took it away, saying, No, no. He kicked and screamed, but I took no notice of it. At last he said, Too bad; shame! after a fashion his nurse has, repeated this sev- eral times, then took my hand and fell asleep quietly, with only one more cry for the dust-pan, followed immediately with Too bad; shame! January, 1892.We came to town for the winter a few days ago. Harold and his nurse came in on a later train. Ever since he has said, repeatedly, Sarah take Harold lufly choo-choo; bell ring, choo- choo ; and every time lie sees a possible chance of going out, he says, See a choo- choo? He was given a very complete toy locomotive last month, because he has- shown such great interest in engines of all sorts. He instantly detected various differences between his engine and those he saw about him in his daily walks, and he did not hesitate to mention them. He asked questions about every part he ob- served after this, wanting to know the names of all of them. In ~ very short time he was heard saying to his nurse, This is a piston-rod, or This is a cyl- inder, or This is an eccentric, etc. It is worth noting that he was told each name once only in answer to his ques- tions. To-day some one spoke abruptly to him. He looked up with a start and said, Scairt. February 3, 1892.He now uses a great many words intelligently. He found a doll that he calls Tommy lying in a box of toys, covered with a cushion. He said at once, in what seemed to be a tone of re- proof, Tommy seep all day in box. He is constantly acquiring new words, with no teaching whatever. He was given recently a book containing pictures of various kinds of locomotives. 124 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. At first his comments were not noticed, but gradually we became impressed with the fact that he was saying, as he turned from one page to the other, ~This one hasnt any bell; this one has a bell; this one hasnt any cow-catcher (it was an English engine); this one hasnt any bell, noti- cing the differences right through the book between the American and the English engines pictured there. At last he closed the book, turned to his mother, and said, Mamma, I want an engine without any book. He wanted the object instead of the picture. February 21.He put a picture of an engine on a chair before him, and said, Sit on ee chair, talk to choo - choo. Mrs. A came in from next door. He climbed upon the chair before her, dangled his little legs, and said, Harold sit on chair, talk ee lady. She asked him what he wanted to say. He looked at her very shyly, and said, Lof lady. He goes over a pet journal of mechanical illustrations in a curious way. He has some associa- tion with each picture. When he saw a poker, the name of which he did not know, he said, Bishy, meaning a ser- vant he had seen using a poker; when he saw a stove-lifter, he said, Hot (he may have found that out by experience, for lie sometimes gets into the kitchen). His favorite illustrations are a page of screws, one of keys (after which he calls the book his schlissel-book, for we told him the German word for key), and a very com- plete illustration of a locomotive, but he will sit contentedly, turning over page after page, and talk to himself about all the pic.tures. March 11, 1892.This evening he said, ~n about one hour after receiving a toy violin Dadens bow; poor bow fell ! (to his own when it fell). Mommie sing A Maggie pet. Poppie dont want to play violin. Then to his own: Sweet violin, nice violin, lovely violin; mamma kiss violin; Harold kiss violin (doing it). Dont want Dr. to play violin. (This doctor lanced his gums when he was teething.) When told he was to go to bed, he said: No; Harold must play violin. Go cl ock (meaning go see clock). Harold go to bed? I tought so, in a tone of disappointment. Pretty violin. Oh-h-h, is it broket again? Where is the oder piece I (when a peg fell out). His mother said, Cant you find it? He said: No. Come find it, mommie; come find it, mommie; find tick to Harolds violin. Then he said, meditatively: Poppie dont play piano. Mommie dont play violin (noting difference, as usual). Poppies violin in big box. Then, af- ter seeing something about the violin that made him point and exclaim W very eagerly, he went to bed as if he had to go but did not want to. March 26, 1892.This morning, when his mother was, as lie supposed, otherwise engaged, lie walked up to his fathers violin, laughed to himself, and said: Papa come home, play big violin. Papa will come home this evening, play big violin, followed by a long - drawn - out ohm of expectancy. All the time he was laughing to himself quietly. April 7, 1892.When taking a walk to-day he saw a pussy in a yard across the way. He stopped, bowed his head, said: How do, pussy? Glad to see you, pus- sy. Pussy, come and take a walk. At this date lie was told whenever his parents expected to go away from him for a time, in order that they might keep his trust. (Minot Savage tells of a boy in Boston who said of his father and mother, who promised him a ride daily, but never gave it, There go two of the biggest liars in Boston. I once heard of another child who had evidently been deceived, and who said, Since liars wont go to hea- ven, there wont be many people there, maybe grandma, but I am sure there wont be any men there.) April, 1892.His sentences are now becoming fuller very rapidly, and lie often uses every word necessary to form a com- plete sentence. Since his mind is not so much occupied with big words (having acquired a considerable vocabulary), he is beginning to notice the connections more, and also the little niceties of accent and pronunciation; yet attention is not directed to his failures. He takes it all very easily, without any sign of physical or mental strain. April 22, 1892.He was given scissors and paper for the first time to-day. He is twenty-six months old now. He tried to cut, apparently knew the scissors had to be parted at the blades, but lie did not know how to accomplish it, so he was shown the place for his thumb and fin- gers. He did not need a second showing. For some time he tried without success. We let him alone, watching, however, to A STUDY OF A CHILD. 125 see that he did not stick or cut himself, for the scissors were small and sharp- pointed. The blunt scissors made for childrens use are too heavy and clumsy for delicate work. We gave him a little embroidery scissors, wishing, however, that it were possible to find equally light blunt scissors. After he had struggled a long time with both scissors and paper, he announced, in a tone of triumph, Cut a piece, and showed us a triangle of paper. He was delighted, and began to cut off all the projections on one of the paper en- gines which had been cut for him. He cut one after the other, saying as he did so, Harold cut off whistle; Harold cut off bell; Harold cut off wheel, etc. When he reached the pilot he looked at me questioningly, and I said, Cow-catch- er.~ He did not repeat the word after me, although it seemed to be new to him, but went right on with his sentences, Harold cut off cow-catcher, etc. His memory is very good. He often repeats a word of three syllables correctly after hearing it once. After he had cut off all the parts, he held up the body of the en- gine, and said to me, in a tone of pity, Harold cut off whistle; engine all torn. I asked him if he wanted another. He said yes, so I gave him one similar to the one he had cut. He took up the en- gine I gave him, took up his scissors, looked at both scissors and engine, looked at me, put the scissors in his other hand, looked at them both, and looked at me again, then held the scissors to the whis- tle without cutting, then to each part, and said, I dont want to cut off wheel; 1 dont want to cut off cow-catcher; I dont want to cut off whistle; I dont want to cut off bell ; and he did not do it, either. All this occurred without a word on my part. He evidently did not want to see the engine all torn; and although he wanted to have the pleasure of cutting, he desisted, that he might not destroy it. I then gave him long strips of paper to snip, that he might enjoy cutting without destroying anything. December 3, 1892.-To-day for the first time he drew a choo-choo for himself. As he drew it he explained each part as noted on page 127, and handled his pencil very rapidly. He is just two years and ten months old. He also drew what he called an atomizer. February 4, 1893.He is nearly three years old, and has begun to ask questions persistently. To-day he said to his mo- ther, Cousin Eddie be a boy, mamma; why doesnt papa be a boy? I began to sing kindergarten songs for him to-day, taking up the song of exercise first. The second time he heard me sing it he tried to imitate my movements. The third time he did it correctly, and he sang it a number of times. February 14, 1893. He is now three years old. He seems absorbed in cutting and in drawing, and the first thing he calls for when awake is scissors, paper, and pencil. He will amuse himself in this way for an hour at a time at least once every day. When I told him he was three years old and his father thirty-three, he asked at once how many threes his mother was old. He received his first locomotive a year ago, when lie was two years old. To-day (three years old) we discovered him very busy with a string aud one of his present stock of locomotives. He soon called to his mother to come and see what he had done. See the connecting-rod, mamma; see how it works, and so it did. He had fastened the string to the centre of the driving-wheel, connected it with the cyl- inder, and was delighted with the result, possibly because he felt that he had re- placed to his satisfaction the connecting- rod that had been accidentally broken off a day or two before, but just as likely because he felt he had achieved some- thing, which characteristic seems to be distinctly noticeable in all children that are not feeble-minded. He received a rabbit for a birthday present, and it bids fair to rival his en- gines, judging from the interest he takes in it. (The record shows a love of nature and animals that is fully equal to the evidence given further on of a strong bent for me- chanics. He had at various times as pets mice, kittens, dogs, butterflies, rabbits, snails, tadpoles, spiders, frogs, crabs, etc., and he seems to have learned in this way to be gentle with anything alive, having been known to lift even a worm out of harms way when digging in his garden.) October 23, 1893.He said to-day, Lo- renzo learned me to cry. I said, No; he taught you. He then said, It is I that learns, isnt it? He is three and a half years old now. February 9,1894.I was trying to draw 126 HAIRPER$ NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. a pussy for him, and when I drew the whiskers I said, Doggies dont have whiskers. He said,No; they have only fleas. February 20, 1894.Four years old. He was looking at a large picture of a naval review, and pointed to a three-mast vessel, and said, I never saw one like that before. Then pointing to two walk- ing-beams, one at each end of the picture, he said, There are two ferry-boats like I saw on the ribber when I was at Baby N s house. Theres a sail-boat. There is no tug-boat here. Whats that? point- ing to a cannon. I said, Dont you re- member seeing a cannon over at the square where there is a statue? He said, Yes, and asked what the wheel under it meant, and the tracks. His father then explained about its being a carriage to wheel around the cannon. He instantly asked whether there was a hinge there to make it go around. December 25, 1894.He said volunta- rily to-night, for his prayer, I love you, God, but I cant always do what pleases you. The last was not suggested. He had been told that God liked to know that little boys loved him, so he folded his hands, buried his face in his pillow, and whispered the words. Afterwards he said lie had something else to tell God, and said, Please, God, tell mamma to bring next Christmas for my kitty (said kitty is a stuffed cottoa print one) a pair of crutches and a bed. He told me to-day that she was lame. All imagination. He idealizes hershe is everything to him. He takes her to bed with him every night. December 26,1894.To-day when I read to him, So Tray put his fore feet in the milk, he asked, Do two and two make four? thinking I meantfour feet. Know- ing there were two front and two hind feet, he made his first attempt at adding. I said, Yes, just this way, holding up my fingers; two fingers and two fingers make four fingers. He held up his lit- tle hand, separated the fingers in twos, and said, This way, onetwo, onetwo, counting each group. I said, Yes; now how many altogether? He counted, One, two, three, four, and was satis- fied, which lie is only when he under- stands the replies he receives. He never gives up questioning until he understands. I have often heard him say, What? what did you say? meaning that he did not understandnot that he did not hear; but until I would explain to others they would frequently answer in the same words, over and over again, to every what he gave? He did not know how else to ask, and because I always under- stood what he meant by what, he thought others did. I did not explain to him at this time about fore feet meaning front feet, for he had enough to consider with his two and two makes four. We usually find out some way of mak- ing things clear by going from what he knows to the unknown; as, for instance, he asked once what a calf was, and I said, A little cow. He said, Oh, is that the way ? and asked no more. We can always trust to his asking questions when he observes anything new, for he knows that he will be answered. He is very fond of Slovenly Peter. When asked what kind of a book it was, he said, very emphatically: Slovenly Peter wa~ made for naughty boys. You could read it to good boys to make them happy, and to naughty boys to make them good; thats what its made for. (An incipient reviewer.) This evening, when in the same room with a type-writer, he wanted to touch it; the stenographer cautioned him not to, and we heard him say to his playmate (another little boy of four): Come away, Leo. When you keep looking at it, it tempts you to touch it, and it is better to go away. Miss B said to him to-day, in the basement of a toy-store, Come, Harold, let us go; it is so close in here. He said, Close to what? May 23, 1895.He works at numbers now in a very curious way. He just sang to himself: I wonder how many thumbs there are in the world? But I know. Mamma doesnt know. She has two and I have two, and that makes four in. this room. Then he said, And thats all we know. Then he counted up fourteen thumbs in the house, for seven people. A few days ago he wanted to find out how many pennies he needed to make a dollar. He had seventy-four cents. He marked on a slip of paper, as may be seen in the illustration at the top of page 130, from 70 to 100, and then beginniiig at 74 as 1, he counted up to 100, putting down each number from 1 to 15, then counting verbally, as if he had found it was not necessary to write out each number. He THE FLIlST CHOO-CHOO. A, Smoke-atack. B, Sand-box. C, Steam-dram. D, Cab. E E, One Line far Bailer. F, F, F, F, Wheela. then announced triumphantly that he needed twenty-six pennies to make a dol- lar. There were two persons in the room to whom he could have applied had he cared to ask, but he seems to prefer to help himself when he can, and we do not interfere. He does not suspect that he is doing anything unu- sual, therefore he is al- ways ready to explain. He said the other day, Is the sun Jesuss light? To-day we heard him say, Six and three are I]ine; six and four are ten. His aunt asked him how he knew it. He replied, I know that six and three are nine, and four is one more than three, ai~d ten is next to nine, so it must be so. Then he turned to his mother and said, Mamma, when you get me a rule again, get me a five- inch or a ten-inch rule (instead of the regular foot rule, which puzzled him), be- cause I can count then 510152025. N I -~ WHAT HE CALLED AN ATOBIZEE. Some time between October and De- cember we found amongst his pupers the efforts at numbers shown on page 130. He is evidently working out the two table for himself. He has learned to count to a thousand with very little effort, by simply asking questions. We taught him numbers by direct teaching from one to ten; the rest he reasoned out for himself by asking oc- casional questions. At first he thought of num- ber as meaning only one to nine; then he wanted to know what came next. We counted with him to twenty, and I explained that when he reached ten it was the same thing over again, only he must say ten instead of one-and-naught, and eleven instead of one-and-one, and so on. I did this because I feared he was too young to attempt to teach him about units, tens, and hundreds by name. I EARLY CUTTINGSTOOLS. BIRDS, A MULE, AND A CUP AND SAUCER. VOL. XCVIT.No. 57718 A CROO-CIIGO CUT OUT OF PAPER. 128 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. also told him that when he reached nine- teen it began in the same way again, only with two instead of one, saying he must use twenty, then twenty-one, etc. and also his Slovenly Peter book. I did not trouble to look into what he was doing, for he seemed content; and when at the end of this time he came to me and said that Slovenly Peter had forty-four pages, I was very much surprised. I thought he might have guessed it, so I turned to page 33 and asked him what page it was. He answered correctly at once. Then I looked into the matter fur- ther, and found that he had taken his pencil and had copied from page 1 to 44 in the novel, and had put the numbers at the foot of the page iii Slovenly Peter. By doing this and compar- ing with the printed number above, he had learned the appearance of numbers. I said nothing more about the matter at the time, but from this on I noticed that he at ways knew numbers when he saw them. One day when on the train he saw a passing cai~ with the number 324 on its side. He instantly asked what three numbers together meant. I told him then about hundreds, ex He then asked what came after twenty-nine. I said he should use three, four, and five, and so on, in the same way as he had used two in twen- ty. He then be- gan counting to ninety-nine, but saying three-ty and five-ty for thirty and fifty, until I corrected him. For a long time after this he thought only of nurn- hers as consisting of one or two fi~ - ures, as, for instance, 8 or 24, and he was perfectly satisfied to go no fur- ther than 99 when counting for his own amusement. It was at this stage of his number - work that I found him interested in copying printed numbers. He asked me one day for a book that began at page 1. Aftei~ a long search I found an old paper novel that began with pa~e 1 on the opening page of the story, in- EARLY CuTTINGS. stead of beginning, as books usually do, with page 5 orG. This book plaining that after 99 came 100, 101, and so I gave to him for his on the same way up. Tbis satisfied him own. For two weeks for a long time; but one day, when on the I saw him at various street, he noticed a house numbered 2105, times lying upon the and asked me what four numbers together floor with it, a pencil, meant. I then explained about a thou- AN EARLY EFFORT. sand coming after 999, and so on up to millions, billions, trillions, quadrillions, etc., and about adding three more naughts to each one. Theseterms seemed to take Ms fancy, and lie often asked about their order; and one day lie came to me andexclaimed: I could count to qua- drillions if I had time enough,could- nt I? A quadrill- ion has fifteen ci- phers. This was before lie was six years old. Dr. Preyer, who thought the child was mistaken in the number of ci- pliers, wrote: If the child exclaims at this age that a quadrillion has fifteen ciphers, this wrong statement should not be nien- tioned. . . If lie had worked it out by threes, then he would have found twenty-four ciphers a million hiavin~ six, a thousand millions nine, a billion twelve, a thousand billions fifteen, a trillion eighteen, a thousand trillions twenty-one, a quadrillion twenty- four. It would have been ratber remark- able if lie had found this by himself. Dr. Harris ex- plains, however that the child was right, for Dr. Prey- er counted by the Continental metli- od, and the child referred to in the record bad his questions answered ac- cordin~ to American couritin~. The record also shows how at six years of age he found out for himself that lie could count to hundreds on the type-writer, by using the figui~es 1 to 9, and the let- ter 0. He took up print- ed letters in the same easy way that he worked out numbers, learning to read and spell, eventually, by the aid of memory and by comparison of the words he knew from memory with the printed words before him. His illustrated books of pigs, cats, dogs, etc., furnished him with sufficient material for this sort of work, and his in- terest was kept up by the illustrations, and sufficient admix- ture of out-door play to create a desire for in-dooi~ amusement. His efforts at free-hand figure-drawing iii his fifth year show steady improve- nicit. as may be seen from the series of cuts on page 131. His continued in- terest in mechiani- cal work, boats, etc., may be seen from the drawings on page 132. The cut on page 133 was given just as repre- sented, in response to the request of a A FABILY UOR1I.AIT AN ENGINE ANT TENDER. LOCOMOTIVES, A BAGGAGE-CAR, AND A STEAMBOAT. AN EFFORT AT DRAWING A ROUND FRONT FOR AN ENGINE. 130 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. playmate of five, who said he did riot know the parts of an en- gine, whereupon he drew the parts and gave the name of each part as rioted, giving at the same time a graphic description of how each part worked. September 11, 1896.Harold asked me to-day what absorb meant, arid how frogs absorbed moisture. I had just been 1? meant sali- va, materials natural his- tory, boast, and indestruc- tible. He cannot understand why some of his toy books are called indestructible wheti they can be destroyed. He often asks me about it. October, 1896.He said to-night, when in bed, I put my hands over my eyes, and I see the loveliest colors; and I say, col ~ YKJ1Ii2PQ A~efAP4I41/4V7,4r.. TWO TIMES TWO. EARLY FIIINTINOHOW HE ASKED FOR A DERRICK. telling him that frogs came oat on rainy days for a drink,when they would absorb the rain through little holes in their bod- ies. He listened intently, then said, as he was eating some bread and tn ilk, See, my bread absorbs the milk. September 16, 1896.When go- ing to New York to-day he said, as he stood in the aisle, Mamma, the faster the train goes the easier it is to stand ; it goes over the bumps quicker. Then pointing to the sign Drinking- Water, he said, Dont they know its drinking-water? She said, Yes. Then he said, Why do they put the sign up? His questions to-day were chiefly about words. He came to me at different times with the following, asking what each O15, please come back until I go to sleep. Then he began to sing: Dear colors, please come back, Until I go to sleep; I will never see you again, Until I eat a big ben. Dear colors, please come back; Ill never disturb you again, Until daydawn brings the light. You darling little colors gay, Make the prettiest ones you ever bad. Then he fell asleep. To-night, when singing to him- self, Diesist die Mutter lieb und gut, he sang it in German first, then in English; then he tried to say the words without the music, and succeeded with the German, but when he got to the third line of the English words he had to sing it to get it; then he repeated it until he felt sure of HOW MANY PENNIES RE NEEDED TO MAKE A DOLLAR. MUSIC. EARlY PRINTINe. A STUDY OF A CHILD. 131 get me to answer a question. Not many days ago. when I supposed lie was asleep, we heard him call out, How much is twice thirty-four l I told him. He re- peated my answer, and soon fell I! Q ~U) it. In this way lie goes over his days acquire- ments while falling asleep sings, talks, and counts to him- selfand occa- sionally tries to I -5 5 55 y -S U A PIG. asleep. I never knew what led up to the ques- tion, but he often asks disconnected qnestion s like the above, after a period of quiet, during which his brain is ap- parently at work over something that puzzles him. He has taken a fancy lately to have me spell words that are new to him, with- - out pronouncing them, in order that lie may guess at them by the sound of the letters. To-night I gave him s-h-o-e, and told him oe was pronounced like oo in too, and to put the sound sh in front. He tried it several times before he got the word right, and was then very much pleased to find he could spell shoe. We then tried p-l-e-a-s-e in the same way, which at first he got as place. In this way he is learning how to spell many words while he plays, and he now reads a number of short, easy sentences. He has a fashion now of spelling all the words he knows how to spell when telling us something, as, for instance - a - m - m - a come t-o d-i-n- n-e-r. Thenshe spells come for him, and he has one word more. Sometimes I take up a word like grew, for instance, give him the sounds, and ask him for the word. He first called grew garew, then tried it faster, and eventually was delighted to find it was a word of which he knew the meaning. This knowledge he gains very easily with play that he enjoys. To-night he asked me what a-p-e-n spelled. I said it was no word; then he tried again, and said a-p-r-n. I said again it was no word, although I knew what he was trying to spell. Then lie said, impatiently, Well, how do you spell apronl Then I told him. He will take a word like old, or any simple word he knows, and beginning with the first letter of the alphabet, he will spell to himself arid try to pronounce each combination, thus: a-o-l-d, b-o-l-d, c-o-l-d, d-o-l-d, e-o-l-d. f-o-l-d, etc., all the way through to z. He tells me this is how he is learning all by himself how to spell new words. He often does this before falling asleep, and asks me some such question as whether e-o-l-d makes a word. October 8, 1896.To- day he asked, What is meant to die a painful death ? I said. A ~i5~ ~t7 -~ HIS DEVELOPMENT DURING HIS FIFTH YEAR IN FREE-HAND DRAWINGTHE LAST SKETCH IS FROM A COPY. A CAT. HIS PET MUTTEIIFLY. 132 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. ;) ~/j~~/ II i/i ~ TK -ji A 2./;~ I 1/ D ~J K (j ( J-~ (I AN EFFORT AT THE HORIZON ENGINES, A GUNBOAT; AND THE VAIIIOTJS POSITIONS OF A RINGING BELL. wagon running over and killing him would be a painful death. He then said, And if they dagged a sword in you ? He said to me to-day,when I told him that after being dressed lie might play in tire room in which I was trying to sleep, You tell God to keep me out of temptation (alluding to the Lords prayer), but if you dress me and let me play in there while you want to sleep, it will tempt me to talk to you. October 12.He said to - day, How would it feel if I had eyes in the back of my head? I replied, I do not know. Then he said, Well, suppose I cut a rat in two pieces, arid then cut one of the pieces in two, would that piece feel it? To this query I replied, No. He won- dered why. I answered because it was separated from the head. Then he won- dered why again. I told him that there were nerves going to the brain (his think, as lie calls it) telling when any- thing hurt. I told him also about the sensitiveness of the finger-tips. He ex- perirnented, then said, Are there nerves in the nails, too? I was not quite sure, but I said, Yes. He looked at them then said, How can one see through the nails and not see any nerves? I was forced to divert him then, and I must study np physiology. When walking along the street to-day, he said to me, I suppose if we had no nerves, and we shut our eyes, we wouldnt kiiow we are walkino October 17, 1896.He evidently puzzles about two, too, and to. I just Ireard him saying to himself, as lie is lying in bed trying to fall asleep, I am going at two oclock. Are you going to town? Yes I ann going, too, accenting eaclr one. Then he said, One, t-w-o (spelling the words), one t-o-o, and one t-o, turned over, and began whistling a tune lie heard a band play to-day. Some time afterwards lie asked me what a hard g and soft g meant. I explained. Then he asked for a hard a b and c, and I explained that not all letters had hard sounds and soft sounds; then I said cake and cent for him, to show tire difference in the cs. He said: How about knife? I should think n stood for knife. I said, No; it is k; but it is a silent letter. He was satisfied withr this, and asked next, What is whniney or fret- tyletting your voice drop down like 1 A STUDY this? giving an illustration of it. Then he fell asleep. October 19. To-day he said, Isnt twice twenty, forty? Ireplied: Yes. How much is twice nineteen ? He said, I dont know un- less I go straight up. I asked, How do you do it? He replied, Why, twice twelve is twenty-four, 2x13==26, 2x14=~ 28, and he went on until he reached twice nineteen is thirty-eight, evidently having found out that the two table up to twelve was made by adding two each time; so he experimented up to forty and asked me as above. This is the way he has experimented and found out much that he knows about numbers. November 6, 1896. He said to-day, What does at- mosphere mean I said, The air around us. Then he said: Does the air mean atmosphere, or does atmosphere mean air? I thought atmosphere meant a kind of sickness. Oh, its esterics [hysterics] I meantwhat I was thinking of. Why do they call it esterics? They might call it cant stop it. I heard him say to-day to a little girl whose word he doubted, Honest and truthiy ? November 24, 1896To- day he asked his mother whether the germs of whooping - cough got it themselves (meaning the cough by it). She said, No. He said, Then how do they give it to us? We have been reading a story in which the giants OF A CHILD. / 133 that were killed were a num- ber of bad hab- its and char- acteristics, and those who help- ed to kill them were the good fairies. The following ques- tions are mine, and the an- swers hisand his own nature is his understanding of pretty accurate. Bad temper? Half dead. Carelessness? Nearly dead. Selfishness? Half dead. Laziness? Dead. Disobedience? Dead. Lies? Dead. Un- tidiness? Half dead. Exaggeration? Pret- ty nearly dead. Fear? Half dead. Love of praise? 1-16 to kill. Boast- fulness? Dead. Con- cealment (which he called sneakful- ness)? 1-100 to kill: nearly dead. Bitter words? 1-1000 to kill. Hate? Quite dead. An~er? 1-10 to kill. Cruelty Dead. I cant? 1-1, 000, 000, 000 to kill. Delay not? Pretty nearly dead: half to be killed. Bashfulness? Nearly dead. Proudfulness (his own term)? Dead. He said, from memory, that the fairies to help you kill the giants were loveful- ness, courage, self-control, obedience, honesty, pa- tience, good temper, kind- ness, diligence, courtesy, gratitude, and persever- ance, which he said meant try, try again. October, 1896.The notes on page 134 show how he tried to learn to write. A vertical writing-chart was placed above his little ta- ble, and we saw that paper and pencils and his chair were always ready for him, should he want to try it. He wrote a letter to a favorite kindergartner THE BEGINNINGS OF A NAVY. HIS EXPLANATION OF THE PARTS OF AN ENGINE. HIS PET BUTTERFLY FEEDING ON 1115 FINGER. 134 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. the first day he received it, asking me bow to spell the words be did not know, but hunting out the letters for himself by re- peating the al- phabet as he looked for tl)e letter he wanted. Before six weeks had passed he knew the whole chart from mem- ory, yet he never received direct teaching from it, nor did I tell him to join the letters to- gether when making the words. He did this frons the beginning, for the chart he used was carefully prepared to meet ther to-day: Mamma, I am like a lit- tle tree grow- ing; bad boys pull me over crooked, and you straighten me. If mothers didnt do this, the boys couldnt grow straight when they get older, but would be crooked. April 24, 1897. To-day he want- ed to know what adding meant. I put down some numbers, as shown in the illustration on page 135, and explained to him how to carry 1 by placing a figure 1 over the next column to the left when he had 234 2:34 468 addition. this need. One day I saw him slip a cover over some of the letters on the up- per row of the chart, by hanging an en- velope by its flap oa the upper edge of the chart. I asked him ____ why he did it. He replied, I wanted it so I can learn the let- ters without seeing themso, illustrat- ing by first covering a and b and then writing the letters, then moving the en- velope along over c and d, and so on. April 23, 1897. He said to his mo 468 234 234 subtraction. 234 2 2)_468_multiplication. 234 division. counted beyond 10, and put down the re- maining number underneath the column he had just added. He needed but one telling, and the fig- ures underneath, _____ with the ls, are his own. The final il- lustration is his own altogether. July 21,1897.The accompanying illus- tration shows one of his efforts to under- stand the principle underlying addition, subtraction, multi- plication, and divi- sion, after I had ex- plained to him with SPONTANEOUS WRITING FROM MEMORY. SPONTAN1IOTJS WRITING FROM MEMORY. A LESSON AND ITS RESULT NA lILY ATTEMPTS AT SUBTRACTION, DIVISION, AND MULTIPLICATION. A CENTURY OF CUBAN DIPLOMACY1795 TO 1895. 127* t3 2.0 ~?~IDS ~~o ~ ~b ~j-g 3 t~ S~ 9 C / DZ. 3J~ if si 3 ~ F~ i~I 31& 17 I At 15 a. ~ ~- 63 A LESSON IN ADDITION. ~66 ~ 7O~ ~ C) I1~ ~, 133,1 7~+ I363~f~ AN EARLY ADDITION. the figures on page 134. He experiment- ed then for him- self for a long time, using his own numbers,and using them cor- rectly, as indi- cated. In this way he is daily enlarging the boundaries of his knowledge; and the more he acquires the great- er is his desire for ~Th ~1C~,o~P~2Q2j3 1JJ~PULTX~T* J~~j~3y b ~ WRITTEN SPONTANEOUSLY PROM MEMORY AFTER SIX WEEKS STUDY AND PRACTICE. ory, which, with his indicated self- control, will make all future work easy. He shows no sign of phys- ical strain; he is only a romping, hearty, obedient boy of seven, full of fun; and in- stead of taking his lessons as a task, he is always more eager to lesfrn than his study. The record parents are willing to have him taught. shows that he is keen to observe, quick to His mind is thus rapidly expanding with- comprehend, and has an excellent mem- out endangering his physical equilibrium. A CENTURY OF CUBAN DIPLOMACY1795 TO 1895. BY PROFESSOR ALBERT BUSHNELL HART. YATHETHER the West Indies are VYnaturally parts of the North American continent is a question of curi- ous speculation, said Thomas Pownall in 1780; the whole must in the course of events become parts of the great North American domain. That a century and a fifth have passed without the fulfilment of this prophecy is a marvel in the his- tory of a changeful world; and it is the purpose of this article to show why Cuba, the most valuable of the West Indies, has so long lain within the boundary of the Spanish Empire. What Cuba has been and is, all the world knowsthe first important land to be discovered by Europeans; with its neighbor, Porto Rico, the last remnant VOL. xcYIL.No. 577.i 8* of a mighty Spanish empire in America. How Cuba has been governed and ex- ploited for four centuries is a matter of history; the colonial policy of Spain has from the beginning, and in all her colo- nies, aimed to throw the profits of colonial trade into the hands of home merchants. The rigor of the system has defeated its own ends, for it invited evasion; and cor- ruption of the colonial official has from time immemorial been a part of the for- eign merchants expense account. Yet from the first one colony has furnished enough taxes and customs to give a large revenue to the mother-country; that col- ony is Cuba. For this tropical island has the natu- ral elements of great wealth; its area of I 128* HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 43,000 square miles has a sea-coast of over 2000 miles; it is accessible in nearly every part, and stands at the crossways of two international highways, from the United States to eastern South America, and from Europe to the Gulf of Mexico. Besides its staple crops of sugar and tobacco, it has valuable timber, fruit, and minerals, and its exports were in 1894 worth more than a hundred million dollars. Politically it is now the only West India island of con- sequence; and it has steadily increased in population and importance. As for the Spaniards in Cuba, they are not governors, but masters; they have held by military garrison, and th eyare a race not much disturbed by human suffering. They were worse slave-mas- ters even than Anglo-Saxons; they have for ages been accustomed to a vindic- tiveness in war which finds vent in the massacre of prisoners and the pillage of non-combatants. Their system of legal procedure, like that of all Latin nations, shocks the Anglo-Saxon by its harshness to the suspect and its cruelty to the con- victed. Colonial authorities have a des- potic power, and they cannot be effec- tively controlled from Spain. The Cu- bans are of the same race, but in all the Spanish colonies the native Spaniard has held himself, and is held by the home government, above the colonist whose father was a Spaniard. Under such cir- cumstances, the administration of Cuba has always been exasperating to neigh- boring peoples, and most of all to the United States. Political and race elements in Cuba have been much confused, owing to the negro population, and to a division of sen- timent among white Cubans. Up to 1878 six classes might be distinguished in the populationSpaniards, white Cubans ad- herent to the Spaniards, white Cubans opposed to the administration, mulattoes (many of them owners of property), free blacks, and slaves. In 1895 there were but two distinct classesa Spanish party of Spaniards and Cubans, and a Cuban party. Throughout the century, how- ever, others besides Spaniards and the Cubans have taken part in Cuban affairs. Professional Spanish - American revolu- tionists, such as Santa Anna and Lopez, have planned to rouse the sluggish Cu- bans; for many years there has been a class of Cubans who have naturalized in the United States and then returned to Cuba to live; and a small but ardent class of native Cubans, often Spanish sub- jects, has made the United States a base of revolutionary schemes. Finally, in all the Cuban troubles there have been plenty of Americans born who were enger to join in expeditions to Cuba, and thus in war on Spain. Diplomatically speaking,Cuba has been not a subject, but an object; it has no authority to negotiate or settle any for- eign question. Cuban diplomacy is only Spanish diplomacy at long range, for the Captains-General have great authority to disturb foreign residents and to take for- eign property, but none to redress griev- ances or to make indemnities. Every disputed question is settledor, rather, is put offat Madrid, and impatient Anglo- Saxons get weary of the Spanish Foreign Office, where everything is promised and nothing is done. One reason for habitual diplomatic de- lays is that Spain has been for a century a declining power, and takes refuge in procrastination. The Spaniards governed ill in 1795, but at least they governed widely; from the Mississippi River to the Pacific, from Oregon to Cape Horn, from the boundary of Georgia to the Dutch in Surinam, from the La Plata southward coasts, islands, and interioi~ were Spanish. Yet that seeming empire was already shattered; and in the first third of the century the Spanish conti- nental empire crumbled away, till Spain remained an American power only in re- taining Cuba and Porto Rico. The Spanish nation was still warlike and tenacious; it lost its colonies not be- cause they were strong, but because the home country was decaying. In 179~ Spain was swept into the maelstrom of the Napoleonic wars, and the French treated her in succession as an enemy, ally, dupe, dependent province, and de- spairing rebel. When in 1807 the King of Spain was put under lock and key by Napoleon, the Spanish colonies began to take charge of their own affairs, and they never for a moment acknowledged French domination. In 1814 they re- turned to a nominal allegiance to Spain; but they had tasted the sweets of inde- pen dence; they broke loose again, and by 1823 Spain had nothing left on the con- tinent of America except an empty claim to sovereignty and the two castles of Callao and San Juan de Ulloa. A CENTURY OF CUBAN DJPLOMACY1795 TO 1895. 129* Since that time the hold of Spain on Cuba has always been that of a harsh administration in a disaffected province. The Spanish principle has been that of stick fast to grant nothing in privileges, reforms, territory, or humane treatment, except under pressure. If the Cubans wanted a better government the only method that they knew has been to revolt. Under these conditions Cuba would long since have ceased to be Span- ish had there not been a third element in the problemthe will and the diplomacy of the United States of America. Said John Quincy Adams in 1823: From a multitude of considerations Cuba has become an object of transcen- dent importance to the commercial and political interests of our Union. Its commanding position.... the nature of its productions and of its wants, furnish- ing the supplies and needing the returns of a commerce immensely profitable and mutually beneficial, give it an importance in the sum of our national interests with which that of no other foreign territory can be compared, and little inferior to that which binds the different members of this Union together. The commercial and military reasons upon which Adams dwelt have grown stronger in the last three-quarters of a century, for trade has advanced, and the enormous development of the Mississippi Valley and of the Gulf coast, and the likelihood of an Isthmian canal, give new strategic importance to the holder of Cuba. A strong national sympathy for the Cu- bans has also shown itself whenever, as in 18226, 184951, and 186878, the Cu- bans have seemed likely to throw off the Spanish rule. Another factor is the land - hunger of the people of the United States their natural, hearty, and irrepressible desire to make a large country larger; their conviction that An~,lo - Saxon civiliza- tion must prevail over Latin civilization where they come in conflict. Since so much of our present territory has fallen from or been wrested from the hands of Spain or Spains successors, perhaps we feel that the reversion of Cuba is ours. With so many strong interests in Cuba, it was long ago predicted that the United records of the centurys diplomacy shows that, on the contrary, conservative prin ciples have long ago got a lodgement in the national consciousness, and have held the nation back from interference. Toward Spain, for instance, the United States has been usually friendly; and we have understood that no third power could take Cuba if Spain were upheld there; but it has been a general belief that Span- ish rule would eventually break dowii by its own weight. Toward other powers the United States has always said hands off whenever they showed an incli- nation for Cuba. Toward the Cubans there has been the feeling that in any quarrel with Spain they must be in the right, but that they could not give assur- ance of a permanent,orderly government. In any commotion in Cuba the rights of Americans are to be vigoronsly protect- ed, and no other nations have any right to take part in the controversy. As for annexation, as often as an opportunity to acquire Cuba has come, the nation has deliberately refused. It is the purpose of this article to show how these various principles have grown up during the hundred years from. the first Spanish treaty in 1795 to the second Cuban i~ebellion of 1895. The centurys diplomacy may be conveniently divided as follows: (1) From 1795 to 1807 we de- sired friendship and commerce with all the Spanish dominions, including Cuba. (2) In 18079 we feared the annexation of the whole Spanish Empire to France. (3) In 1819~6 we feared the annexation of Cuba by England. (4) From 1826 to 1845 we feared and probably prevented the independence of the Cubans. (5) Froni 1848 to 1861 successive administrations feared both Spanish and Cuban mastery, and strove to annex the island. (6) In the insurrection of 186878 the first care of our government was the protection of its pwn citizens, and its second interest was the stopping of a devastating civil war; though annexation seemed possible, it was put aside. (7) From 1878 to 1895 the United States strove to extend its com- merce with Cuba and to protect investors, without questioning Spains control. No one can study Cuban diplomacy without coming to strong convictions; but it is not the purpose of this article to applaud, to defend, ~or to criticise, our na- tional policy. It is the historians duty to YQAl~t~ {~t~ ix~ t1i& ~v 1o~ksA xe@Aoxi; the readers privilege to make deductions for himself; the statesmans difficult task 130* HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. to apply the lessons of the past to present problems. In the negotiations for the treaty of 1795, Jefferson, then Secretary of State, put on record a principle which, with few exceptions, has ever since been observed. He declared that we should have no- thing to do with conquest, and that we had with sincere and particular dis- position courted and cultivated the friend- ship of Spain. The treaty was obtained, but friendship was severely strained by Spanish captures of American merchant- men, and by American claims to West Florida; not till 1821 was the danger of war finally relieved by the cession of the Floridas. From that time, notwithstand- ing the contrast in the habits and aims of the two nations, there has been but one serious cause of controversy with Spain Cuba; and for many years the United States avoided an issue on that question by standing virtually as the guarantor of the Spanish dominion of the island against foreign powers, and even against the Cubans. For instance, Clay, in 1825, gave for- mal notice that the United States, for themselves, desired no change in the political condition of Cuba. President Van Buren, in 1840, assured Spain that in case of any attempt, from whatever quarter, to wrest from her this portion of her territory, she may securely depend upon the military and naval resources of the United States to aid in preserving or recovering it. Secretary Fish, in 1871, was justified in saying that the United States have no other right to interpose than that growing out of the friendly relations which have always existed be- tween them and Spain, and the good faith with which they have observed their du- ties and obligations. The subversion of the Spanish mon- archy by Napoleon in 1807, for the first time revealed to American statesmen their responsibility for Cuba. President Jef- ferson was a man of peace; Secretary- of-State Madison thought well of human nature; Secretary-of-the-Treasury Gallatin was a hard-headed man, not frightened by bugaboos; but the three men united in the belief that France meant also to take Cuba. Hence, Jefferson, August 16, 1807, made the earliest recorded suggestion of annex- ation to the United States: Probably Cuba would add itself to our confedera- tion, in case of a war with Spain. In 1809 he prophesied the annexation of Cuba and Canada; and we should have such an empire for Liberty as she has nev- er surveyed since the creation; and I am persuaded that no constitution was ever before as well calculated as ours for ex- tensive empire and self - government. But he qualified his empire by two limi- tations: I would immediately erect a col- umn on the southernmost limit of Cuba, and inscribe on it ne plus ultra as to us in that direction ; and: Cuba can be defended by us without a navy, and this develops a principle which ought to limit our views. Nothing should ever be ac- cepted which would require a navy to de- fend it. Another real danger was that England should wrest away some of the Spanish colonies; and in 1806 a British force, afterwards disavowed, captured Buenos Ayres. Gallatin feared British ascen- de~icyin Cuba; and Madison, in 1811, thought that England will play some game with Cuba if the United States take possession of East Florida. The danger was averted when England became the ally of Spain in 1809; Wellingtons troops virtually helped to save Cuba from France. Twice since that time the French have shown unwelcome interest in Cuba. In 1823 they were checked by Clays decla- ration that the United States could not see with indifference these islands passing from Spain to any other power. The last interference of France in American affairs was the subjugation of Mexico, in 18616; and a threat of war from the American government caused France def- initely and permanently to withdraw from any claim or hopes of American posses- sions on the mainland or in Cuba. Meanwhile new dangers arose in three quarters at once. As the only remaining stronghold of Spanish power, Cuba be- came the military objective of Mexico and Colombia in their war with Spain; at the same time there was a rising in Porto Rico and much uneasiness in Cuba, where several attempts were made to raise a revolt; and there were hints that aid was to come from sympathizers in the United States. To crown all, from 1819 to 1823 rumors abounded that Eng. land was treating with Spain for Cuba. As the London Courier said, in 1825, A CENTURY OF CUBAN DIPLOMACY1795 TO 1895. 131* Cuba is the Turkey of transatlantic politics, tottering to its fall, and kept from falling only by the struggles of those who contend for the right of catch- ing her in her descent. In the critical years of 18223 every policy was considered which has been suggested in the seventy-five years since: encouraging Cuban insurrection, filibus- tering, warning other American powers, warning European powers, good advice to Spain, joint guaranty, purchase, and forced annexation. In the midst of this rumor and excite- ment there appeared in Washington, in 1822, one Sanchez. purporting to be a secret agent of an or,~anization of Cubans who were ready to declare the island in- dependent of Spain if Monroe would ad- mit it as a State into the Union. This extraordinary overture was gravely dis- cussed by the cabinet, and Monroe gave the man two lettersone refusing to take any step hostile to Spain, the other ask- ing for more information. Sanchez there- upon disappears, and with him the first distinct scheme of annexation through independence. We find the policy of the government summed up in an elaborate despatch by John Quincy Adams, Secretary of State, April 28, 1823: In looking forward to the probable course of events for the short period of half a century, it is scarcely possible to resist the conviction that the annexation of Cuba to our Federal re- public will be indispensable to the con- tinuance and the integrity of the Union itself.... The question both of our right and of our power to prevent.. . . the trans- fer of Cuba to Great Britain, if necessary by force, already obtrudes itself upon our councils. Just at this time sprang up an idea later of much importancethat Cuba could be made safe by a mutual disclaim- er by England and the United States. President Monroe was pleased with the idea; Adams inclined to it; Gallatin, as minister to England, thought it the solu- tion; but no joint declaration was made, and the United States escaped an en- tangling alliance. ~ Nevertheless, it was thought expedient from time to time to renew a warning. Thus in 1840 President Van Buren warn- ed Spain that the United States would prevent at all hazards military occupa- tion by England. Again, in 1843, Web- ster brought forward the argument that we might annex Cuba if necessary to prevent English annexation. At various times from 1845 to 1861 there were rumors of British designs in Cuba; but there was never serious danger from that quar- ter after 1823; for it was evident that for any European nation to take Cuba, with or without the consent of Spain, meant war with the United States. The year 1823 is the dividing-line in Cuban diplomacy. Up to that time in- dependence and even annexation seemed probable; after that time both were for twenty years discouraged by the Ameri- can government. When Adams became President in 1825, he allowed the sugges- tion to the Spanish government that Cuba be deposited with the United States as a pledge for a loan; but this first at- tempt to buy Cuba had no success. Al- ready a new force had begun to hold the nation back, alike from schemes of annex- ation and of Cuban independence. That force was slavery, and it affected even such Northern men as Adams, Van Buren, and Webster. The first evidence is an appeal to Rus- sia in 4825 to move Spain to recognize the independence of Mexico and Colom- bia, so as to stop the war, and avert their project for invading Cuba and Porto Rico. The real trouble was that the new Latin American States, as James Buchanan put it, always marched under the standard of universal emancipation, and might free the Cuban slaves. The demand of the slaveholders was more distinctly stated in 1826 by John M. Berrien, of Georgia: If our interests and safety shall require us to say to these new republics, Cuba and Porto Rico must remain as they are, we are free to say it, and, by the blessing of God and the strength of our arms, to enforce the declaration. The protest of the United States was effectual. Mexico and Colombia forbore to attack their enemy Spain in her most vulnerable spot, and thus was lost the best opportunity of the century for get- ting Cuba out of the hands of Spain with- out any interference by the United States. The policy was continued for many years. Van Buren, in 1829, said it was the in- terest of the Southern section of the Union that no attempt should be made in that island to throw off the yoke of Spanish 132* HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. depen deuce; and Webster, in 1843, feared that Cuban emancipation would strike a death-blow at the existence of slavery in the United States. The indifference of the United States to the acquisition of Cuba was, however not wholly due to slavery. Van Buren praised the wisdom which induced the Spanish government to open Cuban ports to general commerce. As for new territory, the annexationists were direct- ing all their energies to Texas, where slavery was in no danger; and beneath all sectional interests there lay a national unwillingness to get involved in Cuba. In the history of the United States the policy of annexation has always grown by what it feeds on. After Louisiana came Oregon and the Floridas; after Texas came New Mexico and California; and before their status was settled in 1850, schemes had sprung up for annex- ing Yucatan, Hawaii, Central America the Lobos Islands, and Cuba. By this time the country could choose any one of the three methods sanctioned by expe- rience: it might buy Cuba as Louisiana had been bought; it might assist Cuban independence as a preliminary to later incorporation, as in Texas; or it might adopt the Roman method of seizing the coveted land as it had seized California. Each of these three methods was tried in turn, and each was unsuccessful. The apostle of annexation from 1848 to 1861 was James Buchanan, Secretary of State, later minister to England, later still President. In 1848 he revived the plan of purchasing Cuba by offering $100,000,- 000 for the island. Undeterred by an of- fended refusal, President Pierce, in 1853, desired to have a few millions put at his disposal; but the Spanish Secretary of Foreign Affairs declared that to part with Cuba would be to part with na- tional honor. Plans of purchase now languished, till Buchanan became Presi- dent; his request for thirty millions to acquire Cuba by honorable negotiation could not stand against the insight of men like Ben Wade, who said that an nexation at that time was a question of giving niggers to the niggerless. Since 1861 there has been no official offer for Cuba. Side by side with these schemes of pur- chase went the idea of annexation through Cuban independence. Presidents Polk, Taylor, Fillmore, and Pierce, for various reasons, frowned on the expeditions or- ganized in the United States from 1849 to 1854 to descend on Cuba; and the Cubans did not co-operate. Neverthe- less, about two hundred Americans joined General Lopez in a landing in Cuba in August, 1851; he was defeated, and many of the surviving Americans were shot in cold blood after surrender. Though they had taken their lives in their own hands, they were prisoners of war, and the ex- ecution was a barbarity. Hence rioters attacked the house of the Spanish consul in New Orleans and tore a Spanish flag into fragments ; eventually the United States made an indemnity to the consul, and the storm passed by. Failing purchase or insurrection, an- nexation by force seemed the only possi- ble method. To head off such a scheme England and France, in 1851, proposed that the United States should join in a tripartite declaration against exclusive control of Cuba by any of the three. Secretary Everett, in 1852, replied by as- serting in round terms the truth that the United States had an interest in Cuba in- comparably greater than that of any oth- er power, and that, under certain con- tingencies, it might be essential to our safety; though the President would consider its acquisition by force (except in a just war with Spain) as a disgrace to the civilization of the age. From Everetts despatch to 1895, Spain and the United States were left to settle their affairs face to face, with no aid from a European conclave. When Pierce appointed so fiery an an- nexationist as Pierre Soul~ minister to Spain in 1853 it did not seem likely that any reasonable offer of just war would be declined. The occasion came Febru- ary 28, 1854, by the seizure, on a techni- cality, of the cargo of the steamer Black Warrior, in Havana. Sould blew the coals in Spain, and demanded indemnity within forty-eight hours by the Spanish secretarys clock. Calderon sternly re- plied that he was not accustomed to the harsh and imperious manner in which this matter has been expressed. In this crisis the decisive influence was the Kansas-Nebraska bill, by which the President had already raised up a power- ful and implacable opposition. He could not take a second aggressive step for sla- very, and the reparation offered by Spain for the Black Warrior affair was accept- A CENTURY OF CUBAN DIPLOMACY1795 TO 1895. 133* ed. One is tempted to wish that Pierce had defied the moral sentiment of the country consistently, and by unrequited annexation had spared us forty years of Cuban diplomacy. When the pirate Me- nas whispered to Pompey, These three worl(l-sharers, these competitors, Are in thy vessel: let me cut the cable, And when we are put off, fall to their throats. All there is thine, the conqueror could but reply, Ah, this thou shouldst have done, And not have spoken ont. In me, tis villany. Hardly had peace been assured, when it was endangered by the Ostend Mani- festo, framed by Buchanan, Mason, and Soul~, the baldest and blackest plea that was ever made for the forcible annexa- tion of Cuba: If Cuba in the posses- sion of Spaimi seriously endangers our internal peace and the existence of our cherished Union, then by every law, hu- man and divine, we shall be justified in wresting it from Spain. In essence the argument was nothing other than that Cuba must be anx~mexed, in order to keep slavery alive in the United States. The rise of the controversy over secession, for the time being, left the Cuban question behind, a dead issue. After the civil war attention was re- called to Cuba by several changes of cir- cumstances. First, we had strenuously protested against the recognition of in- surgent communities. Secondly, Secre- tary Seward attempted to inaugurate a new era of annexations; he got Alaska, and treated for St. Thomas and San Do- mingo, and we were thus confronted with a new West Indian policy. Thirdly, the extortions and aggressions of Span- ish administration in Cuba were felt with more irritation every year. For instance, Spain claimed that the boundary of Cuba extended six miles out to sea instead of three miles; American negro seamen were not allowed ashore; men-of-war off Cu- ban ports were not to send in their boats; Americans were impressed, taxed, their property embargoed or confiscated in vi- olation of the treaty of 1795. That the American citizens thus maltreated bore such names as Don Ramnon Rivas y La- mar made no difference to the American government, which protected all natural- ized citizens, however unpalatable they might be to the Cuban authorities. At the same time, the United States had now become the advocate of freedom, and put a great pressure on Spain to emancipate the Cuban slaves. The greatest change of all was the breaking out in 1868 of the first genuine spontaneous movement for Cuban inde- pendence. It was a favorable moment, for between September, 1868, and Jan- uary, 1875, Spain passed through a Bour- bon monarchy, a provisional government, an elective king, a republic, and the res- toration of the Bourbon li6u~e. Under each of these regimes Cuba was impar- tially misgoverned. The Cubans had no port, had no regular combined army, and throve on guerilla operations. It was a dreadful warfare; and as has always hap- pened in struggles between Spain and her colonists, it led to ferocity. Shooting prisoners and students, interruption of commerce, arbitrary government in Ha- vana, destruction of property, and waste of human lifethese were the incidents of the civil war in Cuba; yet the United States carefully held aloof from aid to the insurgents. A crisis came in November, 1873. The steamer Virgirtius, registered as an Amer- ican ship in the port of New York, wns captured at sea by a Spanish vessel-of- war, carried into a Cuban port, and there about fifty of her officers and crew were summarily shot. A double grievance was thus created: the seizure of an American vessel on the high seas and the killing of American citizens without civil trial. Spain could not govern her governors, for orders telegraphed from Spain had no effect; and the turn of President Grant~s hand would have brought on war. The Spaniards. however, made out against the Virginius a clear case of fraud in getting her American register; and the President, a man whose courage was not to be ques- tioned, accepted the surrender of the ves- sel, and an indemnity to the families of the murdered Americans; and thus he avoided the kindred issues of war and of annexation. Meantime the Cuban insurrection dragged along, with a new crop of con- fiscations and exactions and forced loans, at the expense of American citizens. Claims for such grievances were adjusted under a convention of February, 1871; but in March, 1877, the Spanish govern- ment was still pleading to distribute the payment over a series of years. Presi- dent Grant had in vain offered his media- 134* HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. tion for the purpose of effecting by ne- gotiation the peaceful separation of Cuba from Spain. Secretary Fish declared that the ultimate issue of events in Cuba will be its independence. As the loss and misery of the war still continued, in December, 1875, President Grant intimated that other nations will be compelled to assume the responsibility which devolves upon them, and to seriously consider the only remaining measures possible, media- tion and intervention. The word intervention, in this sense of a joint protest, had hardly been heard since 1827; but the hint was sufficient to lead Spain to make concessions, which the Cubans accepted in 1877. President Grants plan of foreign intervention was not invoked, and seems a serious depart- ure from the centurys policythat in Cuban diplomacy there are no other parties than Spain, the Cubans, and the United States. Apparently a new period had come for Cuba; speedily relieved of slavery, trade less shackled, a good government prom- ised, what was there to check its prosper- ity or to revive the difficulties with the United States? It was soon found that things fell back into their old rut; the Captain-General was still practically ab- solute; the island was saddled with the debt created to hold it in subjection; it was still exploited for the benefit of Spain, and the same wearisome impediments were laid on foreign traders. For example, in 1880 several vessels were fired upon by Spanish gunboats outside the juris- diction of Cuba; in 1881 an American cattle-steamer, subject to a tax of $14 90, was taxed $387 40 because she had some lumber on board. In 1882 began a long- drawn-out correspondence on overcharges and illegal exactions by Spanish consuls over vexatious fines for small clerical er- rors, and over annoying passport regula- tions. The most serious trouble arose out of the refusal of the Spanish authorities to return estates confiscated during the war to American citizens of Cuban birth. Meanwhile trade between the United States and Cuba was advancing by leaps and bounds. In 1850 the sum of the Cuban trade into and out of the United States was $20,000,000; in 1880, $76,000,000; in 1894, $105,000,000. American capital became engaged in sugar and other in- dustries. The two countries tried to put their tariffs on a better footing by the convention of 1884, for the mutual aban. donment of discriminating duties; in 1893 Spain accepted reciprocity under the tariff of 1890; but the Cuban authorities evaded the privileges thus conferred, on the ground that they were governed by a special Span- ish translation from the English version of the treaty, and not by the original Spanish version; and it was three years be- fore the home government could straight- en out this petty snarl. In 1884S came some filibustering ex- peditions; the United Stat