The Strand 1912-11 Vol-XLIV № 263 November mich

484 THE STRAND MAGAZINE. remarked Lord John, craning his neck to have a look at it. Then suddenly he stretched out his hand and seized the puzzle. \" By George ! \" he cried, \" I believe I've got it. ' The boy guessed right the very first time.' See here ! How many marks are on that paper ? Eighteen. Well, if you come to think of it, there are eighteen cave open- ings on the hillside above us.\" \" He pointed up to the caves when he gave it to me,'' said I. \" Well, that settles it. This is a chart of the caves. What! Eighteen of them all in There is a dry, bituminous wood upon the plateau—a species of araucaria, according to our botanist—which is always used by the Indians for torches. Each of us picked up a faggot of this and we made our way up weed-covered steps to the particular cave which was marked in the drawing. It was, as I had said, empty save for a great number of enormous bats which flapped round our heads as we advanced into it. As we had no desire to draw the attention of the Indians to our proceedings, we stumbled along in the dark until we had gone round several curves THK INDIAN CHART OF THE CAVES, DRAWN O.N THE BARK OF A TREE. a row, some short, some deep, some branching, same as we saw them. It's a map, and here's a cross on it. What's the cross for ? It is placed to mark one that is much deeper than the others.\" \" One that goes through,\" I cried. \" I believe our young friend has read the riddle,\" said Challenger. \" If the cave does not go through I do not understand why this person, who has every reason to mean us well, should have drawn our attention to it. But if it does go through and comes out at the corresponding point on the other side, we should not have more than a hundred feet to descend.\" \" A hundred feet! \" grumbled Summerlee. \" Well, our rope is still more than a hun- dred feet long,\" I cried. \" Surely we could get down.\" \" How about the Indians in the cave ? \" Summerlee objected. \" There are no Indians in any of the caves above our heads,\" said I. \" They are all used as barns arid storehouses. Why should we not go up now at once and spy out the 'and ? \" and penetrated a considerable dis'ance into the cavern. Then at last we lit our torches. It was a beautiful dry tunnel, with smooth grey walls covered with native symbols, a curved roof which arched over our heads, and white, glistening sand beneath our feet. We hurried eagerly along it until, with a deep groan of bitter disappointment, we were brought to a halt. A sheer wall of rock had appeared before us, with no chink through which a mouse could have slipped. There was no escape for us there. We stood with bitter hearts staring at this unexpected obstacle. It was not the result of any convulsion, as in the case of the

THE LOST WORLD. 485 \"IT WAS A BEAUTIFUL DRY TUNNEL, WITH SMOOTH GREY WALLS COVERED WITH NATIVE SYMBOLS.''

486 THE STRAND MAGAZINE, the right and second from the left. This is the cave, sure enough.\" I looked at the mark to which his finger pointed, and I gave a sudden cry of joy. \" I believe I have it! Follow me ! Follow me!\" I hurried back along the way we had come, my torch in my hand. \" Here,\" said I, pointing to some matches upon the ground, \" is where we lit up.\" \" Exactly.\" \" Well, it is marked as a forked cave, and in the darkness we passed the fork before the torches were lit. On the right side, as we go out, we should find the longer arm.\" It was as I had said. We had not gone thirty yards before a great black opening loomed in the wall. We turned into it, to find that we were in a much larger passage than before. Along it we hurried in breath- less impatience for many hundreds of yards. Then suddenly, in the black darkness of the arch in front of us, we saw a gleam of dark red light. We stared in amazement. A sheet of steady flame seemed to cross the passage and to bar our way. We hastened towards it. No sound, no heat, no movement came from it, but still the great luminous curtain glowed before us, silvering all the cave and turning the sand to powdered jewels, until as we drew closer it discovered a circular edge. \" The moon, by George ! \" cried Lord John. \" We are through, boys! We are through ! \" It was indeed the full moon, which shone straight down the aperture which opened upon the cliffs. It was a considerable rift, larger than a good-sized window, and enough for all our purposes. As we craned our necks through it we could see that the descent was not a difficult one, and that the level ground was no very great way below us. It was no wonder that from below we had not observed the place, as the cliffs curved over- head, and an ascent at the spot would have seemed so impossible as to discourage close inspection. We satisfied ourselves that, with the help of our rope, we could find our way down, and then returned, rejoicing, to our camp to make our preparations for the next evening. What we did we had to do quickly and secretly, since even at this last hour the Indians might hold us back. Our stores we would leave behind us, save only our guns and cartridges. But Challenger had some unwieldy stuff which he ardently desired to take with him, and one particular package, of which I may not speak, which gave us more labour than any. Slowly the day passed, but when the darkness fell we were ready for our departure. With much labour we got our things up the steps, and then, looking back, took one last long survey of that strange land, soon, I fear, to be vulgarized, the prey of hunter and prospector, but to each of us a dreamland of glamour and romance, a land where we had dared much,

THE LOST WORLD. 487 way, and Signor Pereira, of Para, to whose forethought we owe the complete outfit for a decent appearance in the civilized world which we found ready for us at that town. It seemed a poor return for all the courtesy which we encountered that we should deceive our hosts and benefactors, but in the circumstances we had really no alternative, and I hereby tell them that they will only waste their time and their money if they attempt to follow upon our traces. Even the names have been altered in our accounts, and I am very sure that no one, from the most careful study of them, could come within a thousand miles of our unknown land. The excitement which had been caused through those parts of South America which we had to traverse was imagined by us to be purely local, and I can assure our friends in England that we had no notion of the uproar which the mere rumour of our experiences had caused through Europe. It was not until the Ivernia was within five hundred miles of Southampton that the wireless messages from paper after paper and agency after agency, offering huge prices for a short return message as to our actual results, showed us how strained was the attention, not only of the scientific world, but of the general public. It was agreed among us, however, that no definite statement should be given to the Press until we had met the members of the Zoological Institute, since, as delegates, it was our clear duty to give our first report to the body from which we had received our commission of investigation. Thus, although we found Southampton full of Pressmen, we absolutely refused to give any information, which had the natural effect of focusing public attention upon the meeting which was advertised for the evening of November yth. For this gathering the Zoological Hall, which had been the scene of the inception of our task, was found to be far too small, and it was only in the Queen's Hall in Regent Street that accommodation could be found. As it proved, the promoters might have ventured upon the Albert Hall and still found their space too scanty. It was for the second evening after our arrival that the great meeting had been fixed. For the first, we had each, no doubt, our own pressing personal affairs to absorb us. Of mine I cannot yet speak. It may be that as it stands farther from me I may think of it, and even speak of it, with less emotion. I have shown the reader in the beginning of this narrative where lay the springs of my action. It is but right, perhaps, that I should carry on the tale and show also the results. And yet the day may come when I would not have it otherwise. At least I have been driven forth to take part in a wondrous experience, and I cannot but be thankful to the force that drove me. And now I turn to the last supreme event- ful moment of our adventure. As I was racking my brain as to how I should best

488 THE STRAND MAGAZINE. ally appeared, they took their places in the front of a platform which already contained all the leading scientific men, not only of this country, but of France and of Germany. Sweden was also represented, in the person of Professor Sergius, the famous zoologist of the University of Upsala. The entrance of the four heroes of the occasion was the signal for a remarkable demonstration of welcome, the whole audience rising and cheering for some minutes. An acute observer might, however, have detected some signs of dissent amid the applause, and gathered that the proceedings were likely to become more lively than harmonious. It may safely be prophesied, however, that no one could have foreseen the extraordinary turn which they were actually to take. Of the appearance of the four wanderers little need be said, since their photographs have for some weeks been appearing in all the papers. They bear few traces of the hardships which they are said to have under- gone. Professor Challenger's beard may be more shaggy, Professor Summerlee's features more ascetic, Lord John Roxton's figure more gaunt, and all three may be burned to a darker tint than when they left our shores, but each appeared to be in most excellent health. As to our own representative, the well-known athlete and international Rugby football player, E. D. Malone, he looks trained to a hair, and as he surveyed the crowd a smile of good-humoured contentment per- vaded his honest and homely face. (All right, Mac ; wait till I get you alone !) When quiet had been restored and the audience resumed their seats after the ovation which they had given to the travellers, the chairman, the Duke of Durham, addressed the meeting. He would not, he said, stand for more than a moment between that vast assembly and the treat which lay before them. It was not for him to anticipate what Professor Summerlee, who was the spokesman of the committee, had to say to them ; but it was common rumour that their expedition had been crowned by extra- ordinary success. (Applause.) Apparently the age of romance was not dead, and there was common ground upon which the wildest imaginings of the novelist could meet the actual scientific investigations of the searcher for truth. He would only add before he sat down that he rejoiced—and all of them would rejoice—that these gentlemen had returned safe and sound from their difficult and dangerous task, for it could not be denied that any disaster to such an expedition would have inflicted a well-nigh irreparable loss to the cause of zoological science. (Great applause, in which Professor Challenger was obs rved to join.) Professor Summerlee's rising was the signal for another extraordinary outbreak of enthu- siasm, which broke out again at intervals throughout his address. That address will not be given in extenso in these columns, for

THE LOST WORLD. 489 to science. These would in time be duly classified and examined. He instanced a snake the cast skin of which, deep purple in colour, was fifty-one feet in length, and men- tioned a white creature, supposed to be mammalian., which gave . forth well-marked phosphorescence in the darkness; also a large black moth the bite of which was sup- posed by the Indians to be highly poisonous. Setting aside these entirely new forms of life, the plateau was very rich in known prehistoric forms, dating back, in some cases, to early Jurassic times. Among these he mentioned the gigantic and grotesque stego- saurus seen once by Mr. Malone at a drinking- place by the lake, and drawn in the sketch- book of that adventurous American who had first penetrated this unknown world. He described also the iguanodon and the ptero- dactyl—two of the first of the wonders which they had encountered. He then thrilled the assembly by some account of the terrible carnivorous dinosaurs which had on more than one occasion pur- sued members of the party, and were the most formidable of all the creatures which they had encountered. Thence he passed to the huge and ferocious bird, the phororachus, and to the great elk which still roams upon this upland. It was not, however, until he sketched the mysteries of the Central Lake that the full interest and enthusiasm of the audience were aroused. One had to pinch oneself to be sure that one was awake as one heard this sane and practical Professor, in cold, measured tones, describing the monstrous three-eyed fish-lizards and the huge water-snakes which inhabit this en- chanted sheet of water. Next he touched upon the Indians and upon the extraordinary colony of anthropoid apes, which might be looked upon as an advance upon the pithe- canthropus of Java, and as coming, therefore, nearer than any known form to that hypo- thetical creation, the Missing Link. Finally, he described, amongst some merriment, the ingenious but highly-dangerous aeronautic invention of Professor Challenger, and wound up a most memorable address by an account of the methods by which the committee did at last find their way back to civilization. It had been hoped that the proceedings would end there, and that the vote of thanks and congratulation moved by Professor Sergius of Upsala University would be duly seconded and carried, but it was soon evident that the course of events was not destined to flow so smoothly. Symptoms of opposi- tion had been evident from time to time Vol. xliv.—42. during the evening, and now Dr. James Illingworth, of Edinburgh, rose in the centre of the hall. Dr. Illingworth asked whether an amendment should not be taken before a resolution. The Chairman : \" Yes, sir, if there must be an amendment.\" Dr. Illingworth: \" Your Grace, I fear that

490 THE STRAND MAGAZINE. too readily accepted. Was the London Zoological Institute to place itself in this position ? He admitted that the members of the committee were men of character. But human nature was very complex. Even professors might be misled by the desire for notoriety. Like moths, we all love best to flutter in the light. Heavy-game shots liked to be in a position to cap the tales of their rivals, and journalists were not averse from sensational coups, even when imagination had to aid fact in the process. Each member of the committee had his own motive for making the most of his results. (\" Shame ! Shame!\") He had no desire to be offensive. (\" You are ! \" and interruption.) The corro- boration of these wondrous tales was really of the most slender description. What did it amount to ? Some photographs. Was it possible that in this age of ingenious manipu- lation photographs could be accepted as evidence ? What more ? We have a story of a flight and a descent by ropes which pre- cluded the production of larger specimens. It was ingenious, but not convincing. It was understood that Lord John Roxton claimed to have the skull of a phororachus. He could only say that he would like to see that skull. Lord John Roxton: \"Is this fellow calling me a liar ? \" (Uproar.) The Chairman : \" Order ! Order ! Dr. Illingworth, I must direct you to bring your remarks to a conclusion and to move your amendment.\" Dr. Illingworth: \" Your Grace, I have more to say, but I bow to your ruling. I move, then, that while Professor Summerlee be thanked for his interesting address, the whole matter shall be regarded as ' non- proven,\" and shall be referred back to a larger and possibly more reliable committee of investigation.'' It is difficult to describe the confusion caused by this amendment. A large section of the audience expressed their indignation at such a slur upon the travellers by noisy shouts of dissent and cries of \" Don't put it! \" \" Withdraw ! \" \" Turn him out! \" On the other hand, the malcontents—and it cannot be denied that they were fairly numerous— cheered for the amendment, with cries of \"Order!\" \"Chair!\" and \"Fair play!\" A scuffle broke out in the back benches, and blows were freely exchanged among the medical students who crowded that part of the hall. It was only the moderating influ- ence of the presence of large numbers of ladies which prevented an absolute riot. Suddenly, however, there was a pause, a hush, and then complete silence. Professor Challenger was on his feet. His appearance and manner are peculiarly arresting, and as he raised his hand for order the whole audience settled down expectantly to give him a hearing. \" It will be within the recollection of many present,\" said Professor Challenger, \" that similar foolish and unmannerly scenes marked

THE LOST WORLD. 491 naturally impossible to bring a large amount of baggage, but they had rescued Professor Summerlee's collections of butterflies and beetles, containing many new species. Was this not evidence ? (Several voices : \" No.\") Who said \" No ? \" Dr. Illingworth (rising) : \" Our point is that such a collection might have been made in other places than a prehistoric plateau.\" (Applause.) • Professor Challenger: \" No doubt, sir, we have to bow to your scientific authority, although I must admit that the name is unfamiliar. Passing, then, both the photo- graphs and the entomological collection, I come to the varied and accurate information which we bring with us upon points which have never been before elucidated. For example, upon the domestic habits of the pterodactyl ^—(a voice : ' Bosh ! ' and uproar)—I say that upon the domestic habits of the ptero- dactyl we can throw a flood of light. I can exhibit to you from my portfolio a picture of that creature taken from life which would convince you \" Dr. Illingworth : \" No picture could con- vince us of anything.\" Professor Challenger : \" You would require to see the thing itself ? \" Dr. Illingworth: \"Undoubtedly.\" Professor Challenger : \" And you would arccpt that ? \" Dr. Illingworth (laughing): \" Beyond a doubt.\" It was at this point that the sensation of the evening arose—a sensation so dramatic that it can never have been paralleled in the history of scientific gatherings. Professor Challenger raised his hand in the air as a signal, and at once our colleague, Mr. E. D. Malone, was observed to rise and to make his way to the back of the platform. An instant later he reappeared in company of a gigantic negro, the two of them bearing between them a large square packing-case. It was evidently of great weight, and was slowly carried forward and placed in front of the Professor's chair. All sound had hushed in the audience, and everyone was absorbed in the spectacle before them. Professor Challenger drew off the top of the case, which formed a sliding loopholed lid. Peering clown into the box, he snapped his fingers several times, and was heard from the Press seats to say, \" Come, then, pretty, pretty!\" in a coaxing voice. An instant later, with a scratching, rattling sound, a most horrible and loathsome creature appeared from below, and perched itself upon the side of the case. Even the unexpected fall of the Duke of Durham into the orchestra, which occurred at this moment, could not distract the petrified attention of the vast audience. The face of the creature was like the wildest gargoyle that the imagination of a mad mediaeval builder could have conceived. It was malicious, horrible, with two small red eyes as bright as points of burning coal. Its long, savage mouth, which was held half

492 THE STRAND MAGAZINE. made ample amends. Everyone was on his feet. Everyone was moving, shouting, ges- ticulating. A dense crowd of cheering men were round the four travellers. \" Up with them ! Up with them ! \" cried a hundred voices. In a moment four figures shot up above the crowd. In vain they strove to break loose. They were held in their lofty places of honour. It would have been hard to let them down if it had been wished, so dense was the crowd around them. \" Regent Street ! Regent Street ! \" sounded the voices. There was a swirl in the packed multitude and a slow current, bearing the four upon their shoulders, made for the door. Out in the street the scene was extraordinary. An assemblage of not fewer than a hundred thou- sand people was waiting. The close-packed throng extended from the other side of the Langham Hotel to Oxford Circus. A roar of acclamation greeted the four adventurers as they appeared high above the heads of the people under the vivid electric lamps outside the hall. \" A procession ! A pro- cession ! \" was the cry. In a dense phalanx, blocking the streets from side to side, the crowd set forth, taking the route of Regent Street, Pall Mall, St. James's Street, and Piccadilly. The whole central traffic of London was held up, and many collisions were reported between the demonstrators upon the one side and the police and taxi-cab men upon the other. Finally, it was not until after midnight that the four travellers were released at the entrance to Lord John Ro.xton's chambers in the Albany, and that the exuberant crowd, having sung \" They are Jolly Good Fellows \" in chorus, concluded their programme with \" God Save the King.\" So ended one of the most remarkable evenings that London has seen for a considerable time. So far my friend Macdona, and it may be taken as a fairly accurate, if florid, account of the proceedings. As to the main incident, it was a bewildering surprise to the audience, but not, I need hardly say, to us. The reader will remember how 1 met Lord John Roxton upon the very occasion when, in his protective crinoline, he had gone to bring the \" devil's chick,\" as he called it, for Professor Chal- lenger. I have hinted also at the trouble which the Professor's baggage gave us when we left the plateau, and had I described our voyage I might have said a good deal of the worry we had to coax with putrid fish the appetite of our filthy companion. If I have ot said much about it before, it was, of course, that the Professor's earnest desire was that no possible rumour of the unanswer- able argument which we carried should be allowed to leak out until the moment came when his enemies were to be confuted. One word as to the fate of the London pterodactyl. Nothing can be said to be certain upon this point. There is the evidence of two frightened women that it perched upon the roof of the Queen's Hall and remained

THE LOST WORLD. 493 \"IN A DENSE PHALANX, BLOCKING THE STREETS FROM SIDE TO SIDE, THE CROWD SET FORTH.\"

494 THE STRAND MAGAZINE. telegram had come to ine at Southampton, and I reached the little villa at Streatham about ten o'clock that night in a fever of alarm. Was she dead or alive ? Where were all my nightly dreams of the open arms, the smiling face, the words of praise for her man shaded standard lamp by the piano. In three steps I was across the room and had both her hands in mine. \" Gladys ! \" I cried. \" Gladys ! \" She looked up with amazement in her face. She was altered in some subtle way. The \" PRIVATE MILES DESERTED HIS TOST WITHOUT LEAVE.\" who had risked his life to humour her whim ? Already I was down from the high peaks and standing flat-footed upon earth. Yet some good reason given might still lift me to the clouds once more. I rushed down the garden- path, hammered at the door, heard the voice of Gladys within, pushed past the staring maid, and strode into the sitting-room. Gladys was seated in a low settee under the expression of her eyes, the hard upward stare, the set of the lips, were new to me. She drew back her hands. \" What do you mean ? \" she said. \" Gladys ! \" I cried. \" What is the matter ? You are my Gladys, are you not—little Gladys Hungerton ? \" \" No,\" said she; \" I am Gladys Potts. Let me introduce you to my husband.\"

THE LOST WORLD. 495 How absurd life is ! I found myself mechanically bowing and shaking hands with a little ginger-haired man who was coiled up in the deep arm-chair which had once been sacred to my own use. We bobbed and grinned in front of each other. \" Father lets us stay here. We are getting our house ready,\" said Gladys. \" Oh, yes,\" said I. \" You didn't get my letter at Para, then ? \" \" No, I got no letter.\" \" Oh, what a pity ! It would have made all clear.\" \" It is quite clear,\" said I. \" I've told William all about you,\" said she. \" We have no secrets. I am so sorry about it. But it couldn't have been so very deep, could it, if you could go off to the other end of the world and leave me here alone ? You're not crabby, are you ? \" \" No, no ; not at all. I think I'll go.\" \" Have some refreshment,\" said the little man, and he added, in a confidential way : \" It's always like this, ain't it ? And must be unless you had polygamy, only the other way round, you understand.\" He laughed like an idiot, while I made for the door. I was through it when a sudden fantastic impulse came upon me, and I went back to my successful rival, who looked nervously at the electric push. \" Will you answer a question ? \" I asked. \" Well, within reason,\" said he. \" How did you do it ? Have you searched for hidden treasure, or discovered a pole, or done time on a pirate, or flown the Channel, or what ? Where is the glamour of romance ? How did you get it ? \" He stared at me with a hopeless expression upon his vacuous, good-natured, scrubby little face. \" Don't you think all this is a little too personal ? \" he said. \" Well, just one question*,\" I cried. \" What are you ? What is your profession ? \" \" I am a solicitor's clerk,\" said he. \" Second man at Johnson and Merivale's, 41, Chancery Lane.\" \" Good night! \" said I, and vanished like all disconsolate and broken-hearted heroes into the darkness, with grief and rage and laughter all simmering within me like a boiling pot. One more little scene, and I have done. Last night we all supped at Lord John Roxton's rooms, and, sitting together after- wards, we smoked in good comradeship and talked our adventures over. It was strange, in these altered surroundings, to see the old, well-known • faces and figures. There was Challenger, with his smile of condescension, his drooping eyelids, his intolerant eyes, his aggressive beard, his huge chest swelling and puffing as he laid down the law to Summerlee. And Summerlee, too—there he was with his short briar between his thin moustache and his grey goat's beard, his worn face protruded

496 THE STRAND MAGAZINE. \"A SUDDEN FANTASTIC IMPULSE CAMrt UPON ME, SUCCESSFUL RIVAL.\" \" There's the result,\" said he. \" He prices ihe lot at a minimum of two hundred thousand pounds. Of course, it is fair shares between us. I won't hear of anythin' else. Well, Challenger, what will you do with your fifty thousand ? \" \" If you really persist in your generous view,\" said the Pro- fessor, \" I should found a private museum, which has long been one of my dreams.\" \"And you, Summerlee ? \" \" I would re- tire from teach- ing, and so find time for my final classifica- tion of the chalk fossils.\" \"I'll use my own,\" said Lord John, \" in fit- t i n g a w e 11- formed expedi- tion and having another look at the dear old plateau. As to you, young fel- lah my lad, you, of course, will spend yours in gettin\" married.\" \"Not just yet,\" said I, with a rueful smile. \" I think, if you will have me, that I would rather go with you.\" Lord John said nothing, but a brown hand was stretched,out to me across the table. AND I WENT BACK TO MY THE END. Our readers will be interested to learn that in an early number will appear the opening chapters of another adventure which befell Professor Challenger, Lord John Roxton, Professor Summerlee, and Mr. Malone, the intrepid explorers who discovered the Lost World. It is entitled \"THE POISON BELT,\" a title which in itself leaves readers to expect a strange, thrilling, and sensational narrative. It is sufficient to say here that their most sanguine expectations will not be disappointed.

FIFTEEN-MINUTE EXERCISES. By LIEUT. J. P. MULLER (Royal DanisK Engineers). In the following article, specially written for \"The Strand Magazine,\" Mr. J. P. Mtiller, Ex-Lieutenant of Engineers in the Danish Army, explains how members of both sexes, who are unable regularly to indulge in outdoor exercise, can substitute with equal benefit fifteen minutes a day devoted to simple bodily exercises at home, each and every one of which can be performed without apparatus. Mr. Miiller's views on the subject of health exercises will be read with particular interest, for he has earned world-wide fame in the world of Amateur International Athletics, having altogether won 134 prizes, of which 125 have been Championship and First prizes, in almost every possible branch of sport and athletics. He attributes his all-round good health largely to the fact that he daily indulges in the various exercises here explained. His system has already obtained a very wide circle of believers in his own country, and is rapidly extending over all Europe. Exclusive photographs, illustrating the article, were specially posed for \"The Strand Magazine\" under Mr. Miiller's personal supervision. N these hustling days I have frequently remarked that one of the most common com- plaints made by members of both sexes—their name is legion—whose strenuous daily routine prevents them from regularly taking sufficient outdoor exercise to keep themselves in sound healthy condition is : \" How can I expect to be as healthy as those who can afford to play games or spend several hours a day in taking exercise of some sort ? I can't, so I must rub along as best I can without taking any regular exercise at all.\" As a matter of actual fact, however, a life- long study of the question of exercise as an influence on health has proved to me that there is really no solid foundation for this complaint, for even the most hard-working man or woman, \" with practically not a moment to spare in the day,\" can surely devote just one quarter of an hour every day for bodily exercise. \" But a quarter of an hour's exercise a day is worse than useless,\" the hypercritical are bound to remark. My reply is: \"A quarter of an hour's exercise daily, when used to the best advantage, is amply sufficient to preserve the health of the busiest worker,\" and in explaining, specially for readers of THE STRAND MAGAZINE, exactly how and why they will be wise to devote fifteen minutes' work a day for health exercise, I do so fully confident that if they will follow the hints given in this article they will reap the benefit of the exercises explained in a very short time. Vol. xliv.-43. I would lay special stress on the fact that in the performance of these exercises there is actually nothing complicated at all, and, though hints on paper have a tendency to sound involved, if would-be exercisers would carefully follow each direction as here explained they will find that the exercises are the acme of simplicity. First and foremost let me say that in my rules for the practical care of the body a bath, with subsequent rubbing and air-bath, is a most essential thing, whether there be facilities for a proper water-bath, or only for a damping of the whole body with a wet towel. In a quarter of an hour, however, there is time for considerably more than a bath, and on this account I have drawn up as well a selection of most useful and appro-

498 THE STRAND MAGAZINE. open all night. If not, they must be performed in an ad- joining room, the window and the door of which have been open during the night. I can, however, hardly believe that anyone who takes the least interest in his or her health would sleep without giving free circulation to the fresh air through open windows. If afraid of not being warm enough at night during the winter, as a very close student of the fresh-air question, I have found that it is very much better to put more clothes on the bed, or wear warmer night garments, than to close the window. The air you inhale can, and should be, cool and fresh. Before actually commencing the daily routine, let me add that in my regime of fifteen minutes' work a day for health's sake no special apparatus whatever is required, and, indeed, there is no question of expense other than that of a so-called \" sponge \" bath, which, after all, only costs a few shillings, and is, to all practical intents and purposes, indestructible. However, it is possible to avoid any expense whatever by using an ordinary tub, or by simply standing on a mat and slap- ping the body smartly all over with a towel dip- ped in cold or luke- warm water, or, in the event of no towel being handy, by wetting the body with the > hand. When, during the summer, it is possible to bathe out of doors, the exercises should be performed at the bathing-place, where one will generally be able to arrange matters in such a way that they can be performed in their proper order. After a fairly long swim, if cold, the rubbing exercises will provide the best means of restoring the circulation. And now let us begin the daily exercises at once. In the morning—out of bed ! For women a short skirt, loose- fitting blouse, or sweater, and bedroom slippers or sandals on. For men, trousers or pyjamas. For both, stockings, socks, or bedroom slippers. In the even- ing, or when changing clothes

FIFTEEN - MINUTE EXERCISES. 499 on the toes and lean the head back a little, as shown in illustration i. As they exhale, also as deeplyand powerfully as possible,and avoid- ing all jerks, they should then lower the heels and chin and, while inhaling, should rest the hands on the hips, holding the elbows well out from the side, so that they can expand the chest sideways, for by so doing' they will be enabled to fill the lungs to the best advantage. We then pass along to exercise number 2. The \" exerciser\" should rest one hand on the bedpost, or the end of the bed, a heavy chair, or a door-handle, and, leaning the weight on one leg, strike out with the other leg sixteen times backwards and forwards alternately. The free hand may be placed on the hip. I do not mean that the leg is to be swung backwards and forwards in long strokes like a pendulum which swings of its own weight. On the contrary, the kicks should be short and sharp (see photograph 3), and strength should be exerted every time the movement is reversed, which ought to occur simul- taneously, without a pause. The greatest strength should be concentrated on the back kick, for which reason it is most convenient to count them. If you feel afterwards that the bottom of the big muscle of the back is a little swollen, the exercise has been carried out properly. Only the last three times should you swing as far up, backwards and forwards, as you can, to render the joints and the muscles supple. The knee should be perfectly straight all the time, and the body must not lean forward, neither must the head. If you have a foo.stool, stand upon it, as you can then straighten the instep, too. Then turn round and kick sixteen times with the other leg. The more practised one gets, the faster this movement is performed, and it will then be found by degrees that it fan be a very great exertion ; and on this account particular care must be taken that the regular and steady respiration be not interrupted. The next exercise will be found no. 4. particularly health-giving. The man who com- plains that he has no time for physical work should lie down on his back on the rug, or upon a couch, the hands resting on the hips, or else the arms at the sides and the hands flat on the floor. Raise the legs, perfectly straight and close together, a good foot from the ground, then swing the feet, the instep kept straight, in circles up and outwards, the left foot to the left, and the right to the right (see photograph 4); then down, and together again, and so on,eight times round alto- gether, the first six times in circles of two feet diameter (rather less for

5oo THE STRAND MAGAZINE. the finger-tips; after that, in the same way, NO. 6. the under- arm up to the arm-pit, and then in- wards across over the left breast; here the right hand relaxes its hold,immediatelyslapping the leftshoulder- blade sirartly as far back as possible, under the left arm, which at the same time is bent so that the left hand can take firm hold round the right shoulder. Then the right hand strokes the part from the shoulder-blade in under the left armpit, when it relaxes its hold, while the left hand has, at the same time, stroked the upper side of the right arm from the shoulder- l)one down to the finger-tips. The arms will now be stretched out in front of you once more, and the movement is finished, the left hand resting meanwhile above the right, ready to begin an absolutely corresponding action (but replace the word right with left, and vice versa, in the above description). It will be seen that each complete move- ment falls into a mea- sure of five beats, which, with a very little practice, will pro- ceed mechanically and with absolute regu- larity and rhythm, to your counting one, two, three, four, five. In twenty - five seconds there should be ample time for ten of these movements in five beats. Later you can combine knee-bendings as in photograph 6. When, after some little time has elapsed, the arms and shoul- ders have grown firm and round and the skin feels like satin— NO. 7. with no roughnesses on the back of the upper arm and no wrinkles at the elbow—you will be so fascinated by this exercise that you will increase the number of the movements of your own accord, even at the risk of exceed- ing the quarter of an hour. This applies to members of both sexes. The following is absolutely essential to the day's \" exercise at home.\" The legs should be placed in the same position as in the first exercise mentioned in the article. The pupil should then proceed to bend the upper part of the body well back, stroke with both palms, starting from the collar-bones (photo-

FIFTEEN-MINUTE EXERCISES. NO. stooping (photograph 9). Then, while bringing the body back into its upright position and straightening the right leg, slide your palms up the outer side of the left thigh, hip, and half up the side of the body, and then across the front; while the left hand is stroking the front of the body sideways, the right is doing the same over the diaphragm. Then take both hands away and slap them smartly down on the outer side of the right leg, the upper part of the body leaning to the right and the left knee being bent, whereupon the whole move- ment is continued in the same way as described above (only with the substitution of the word \" left \" for \" right,\" and vice versa). Lean eight times to each side alternately, making sixteen leanings in all. Inhale briskly each time the body is straight- ened (from either side), and exhale evenly the rest of the time. It is a serious mistake to bend the trunk obliquely forward instead of leaning straight to the side. Beginners are also prone to cross their hands or to stretch the wrong knee ; it must be the knee on the side towards which the body leans. A breathing exercise as previously out- lined should be taken—as before all the exercises— prior to com- mencing with the next item on the daily programme, which you should prepare for by standing with heels together and palms resting against the hips, with the fingers pointing down- wards. Quickly flinging the trunk over to the left, the left palm strokes down the left hip and outer side of left thigh, while the right hand is ,NO. 10. drawn up the right side of the body (see photograph No. 10). The trunk is then imme- diately flung over to the right, while the left hand is drawn up the left side and the right strokes down its own side ; and so on, in the same manner, L^ i but the jerks or \" Ringings \" to each side following very quickly one upon another. The arms are bent in turn

502 THE STRAND MAGAZINE. legs apart, and should then first fling the trunk backwards, afterwards stroking the top part of the chest and front of the hips. The trunk should then be flung somewhat for- ward and the body stroked in the same manner as I have already described (see photograph 7), but stop a little way short below the loins, as shown in photograph No. ii. The trunk is then at once flung back again into the first position, and the front stroked as before; then for- ward again, with rubbing at the back and so on, twenty jerks following quickly one upon another backwards and forwards alternately. Now let me turn to various daily exercises which, if prac- tised regularly, every woman should find will tend to bring her increased health and vigour. First of all I will try and explain my special breathing exercises. To commence with, I would lay stress on the fact that the pupil should stand quite natu- rally, and take as deep and as long a breath as possible. She should then place her hands on her hips, raise the shoulders a little, and lean the head slightly back (see photograph 12). She should then take a deep breath, though I would mention that in this deep breath- ing it is a mis- take to breathe too deeply; all that is necessary is that the air should be held in the lungs for a moment, after which it should be ex- NO. haled steadily, smoothly, and deeply, at the same time lower- ing the chin and shoulders. This done, women will find the following leg-swing- ing exercise particularly valuable. The student should commence by placing one hand on a bedpost, a heavy chair, or any other article of furniture, and swing one leg, fully out- stretched, shortly and sharply to and fro. The more practised one is, the faster the leg may be swung. There must be no pause between the kicks back- wards and forwards; the exercise must be continuous. The beginner should make a

FIFTEEN - MINUTE EXERCISES. S°3 on the floor and place her toes under some article of furniture sufficiently heavy to NO. 15. counterbalance her weight. She should then raise the body into a sitting position and lower it again, performing these movements several times. The beginner may assist her- self both in lowering and raising the body with her arms (see photograph 15); but after some practice the hands should be placed on the hips. I would mention that it is essential to inhale when going backwards, and to exhale when raising the body. Always remember, too, to lean well forward, as this is excellent for the digestion. I would mention, that more advanced students may place the hands behind the head, and later on should perform the raising and lowering the body the regula- tion number of times—namely, twelve. The elbows must be held well back and the head erect the whole time. Arm-circling is also another very desirable exercise in the day's menu. The pupil should make a lunge forward, say, with the right leg, as shown in photograph 16, stretch the arms out sideways, and swing them round so that the hands, palms uppermost. describe small circles. The circles should b e described from front to back—-that is to say, the hands should move up- wards to make the front half of the circle, and downwards to make the back half. The final circles should be very large, in order to render the shoulder- joints supple. Now shift the position of the legs, lunging forward with the right, and swing the arms round the reverse way, so that the hands describe the front half-circles downwards and the back half-circles upwards. The palms must now be turned downwards. The stronger you get the faster the circling may be done. After some practice you should perform sixteen circles the one way and six- teen the other way, making the last three of each sixteen circles as large as possible. Body-lowering provides an exercise which a lengthy experience has proved to me is particularly valuable to women. The pupil should stand facing the end of the bed, a heavy chair, a chest of drawers, or a window- frame. Place the hands upon the top rail, NO. 17. or the edge, and then lean forward, bending and straightening the arms several times. After a little practice the regulation number of arm-bendings—twelve—should be per-

5°4 THE STRAND MAGAZINE. going downwards or forwards, in this exercise the exact opposite is the case. Here one must inhale when going downwards, because the elbows move outwards and the chest is expanded, and exhale while raising the body. And now we come to the \" rubbing \" exercises which every woman should take after daily indulgence in the all-refreshing \"tub.\" These exercises, of course, should be practised either in bathroom or bedroom, but the essential movements to be carried out can easily be followed by re- ference to the specially-taken illustrations accompanying this article. The \" rubbing \" exercises, I would mention, are scientific gymnastic movements, combined with the stroking or rubbing of the skin, whereby the entire surface of the body, by degrees, gets thoroughly and systematically polished. The rubbing is done by the palms of the hand, and, to begin with, should be merely a simple friction or stroking of the skin ; but later on, as one's strength increases, it should be rendered so vigorous as to trans- form it into a sort of massage. I would mention that, for the proper performance of these exercises, no garment at all must be worn. The first exercise beginners should divide into two parts— knee-bendings and rubbings; later on combining the move- ments. The pupil should stand with feet apart, raise the arms, palms downwards, to a hori- zontal position in front, taking at the same time a deep in- halation. Then sink to a squatting position without raising the heels from the floor (see photograph 18). The arms must be held outstretched to the front in order to preserve the balance. Rise again with- out pause, lowering the arms at the same time. As the breath is expelled during the downward and upward move- ment, this must be carried out in a comparatively short space of time. Repeat the whole movement several times, ten at most, each time inhaling NO. 18. while slowly raising the arms, and exhaling while perform- ing rather quickly the bend- ing and straighten- ing of the knees and the lowering of the arms. Now come the rubbings,

FIFTEEN - MINUTE EXERCISES. 5°5 and the hand is then pressed downwards during exhalation. The rubbings are very easily learned. All that is required is that the back and loins be rubbed across with the back of the hand. Start from as high up oh the shoulder-blade as can be reached, and rub the hand, with a threefold zig-zag movement, across the back and dowh over the loins. The rubbing is done, of course, with the hand which in the preliminary movement described above rested on the back, while the other hand is pressing and the operator is exhaling. 1 have room for one other exercise. The pupil should stand as in photograph 20, with palms on the lower part of abdomen, and draw a deep inhalation. Then, while exhaling, bend slightly for- wards, press the hands in- wards, and move them up- wards as if you would push all the intestines up under the ribs. While the hands relax their hold sideways draw another deep breath, endeavouring to distend the \"stomach\" as much as pos- sible by filling it with air. Recommence the movement by placing the hands again as shown in photograph 20. Press the stomach as be fore- while exhaling, and once more inhale, dis- tending the stomach. Continue until ten complete movements have been performed. Lack of space prevents me from here men- tioning various other exercises the value of which I have proved by experience. Suffice it to say, however, that those readers who will carefully follow out the simple exercises explained in this article cannot fail to feel the benefit of this regular indulgence in every- day bodily exercises in a very short time. At first, of course, it goes without saying that the \" practisers \" will find that the exercises take a little longer than will be the case when the object of each is thoroughly under- stood ; slill, in every case the rules to be observed are so simple that not the slightest difficulty should be experienced in following the hints here given after a few minutes of careful practice. Presently the exerciser will find that he has plenty of time to spare in the fifteen minutes. I myself go through eighteen exercises in less than that time every day.- The secret of the success of the simple hints set forth in this article lies, firstly, in the fact that they are selected to exercise those particular organs of the body which busy men and women these days cannot exert owing

Her jrroposa er P .1. A LEAP YEAR IDYLL. By R. S. WARREN BELL. Illustrated by Dudley Hardy, R.I. OHN SERJEANTSON paused at the lodge of St. Matthew's Hospital to speak a word to its occupant, and at that moment Gladys Weir, a nurse attached to the hospital, tripped out. Serjeantson was a throat and ear specialist on the visiting staff of the hospital, and knew Gladys as a nurse who had assisted in a number of operations which he had conducted. In the course of his visits, in fact, he had seen a good deal of her. He was a tall man, a shade over six feet, with a slight stoop. As he raised his hat one would have observed that his hair was brushed carefully across his forehead, and that it did • not possess the slightest symptom of a curl. His forehead was broad, though not lofty. He had steady, watchful brown eyes, and the long, firm chin that one so often finds associated with ability, energy, and success. \" Very clever man, Serjeantson.\" said the world, and, though he could not be forty yet, making a com- fortable three thousand a year. \" Wonder why he doesn't marry ? \" added the world. Gladys Weir was also tall, and had a face which, in addition to being pretty, was full of character. She, too, had a firm chin and mouth, with level eyebrows and a good sweep of forehead. \" Going for a constitutional ? \" said Ser- jeantson, raising his hat. \" Then perhaps I may walk a little way with you ? \" The tall, distinguished young specialist and the tall, graceful nurse walked away together. In the hospital Serjeantson was the man of science absolutely, giving his orders quickly and decisively, and by force of personality compelling prompt attention and alacrity on the part of his assistants. Indoors Gladys was his subordinate; but out here in the open, the world might have remarked, these two were on a level, being just a good-looking man and a pretty girl. To tell the truth, however, there was no equality between them at all, for while Gladys had possession of all her wits and was in complete command of the situation, John Serjeantson felt about as stable as a man walking on gossamer, for he was in love with Gladys. Love lies the tongue. Now that they were together Serjean'son found it a matter of no little difficulty to think of something appro- priate to say to her. He did not care to discuss the latest operation in which they had both participated, and he felt that he would not be making much conversational leeway were he to venture on a remark about the weather. As for Gladys, she, perceivins; and enjoying his embarrassment, gave him no help whatever. \" Where are you going ? \" he at length

HER PROPOSAL. 5°7 \"Youcan- notbe thirty yet,\"hesaid, doubtfully. It was Miss Weir's turn to start. \"Thirty, indeed ! I am only twenty- two.\" ''The fact,\" mused the specialist, acquiring ease rapidly. \" that you and I appear so much older than we r e a 11y are \" \"But do you mean,\" flamed Gladys, fall- ing into the trap, \" that I really look thirty'? \" \"is not,\" went on the specialist, quite un- moved, \" withou t its signifi- cance. We are both over- worked, and we both take life too strenu- ously. Miss Weir, I pre- scr i be a thorough rest for you. Go away into the country and do nothing. Go to bed early \" ' HOW CURIOUS ! ' SAID GLADYS. ' I AM STARTING TO-MORROV

508 THE STRAND MAGAZINE. and get up late. Don't exert yourself in the least. Simply rest.\" \" How curious ! \" said Gladys. \" I am starting to-morrow.\" Serjeantson, cool and collected man of science, was visibly dismayed. \" Going away ? For how long ? \" \" A fortnight. I am going to stay with my brother, who has just bought a practice at Coveleigh. in Norfolk.\" \" It sounds well/' said Serjeantson. \" What sort of a place is Coveleigh ? \" \" The usual rather large seaside village.\" replied Gladys. \" The sort of place people tell one another about, but which is never advertised.\" By now they were in New Oxford Street, and they walked on for some little time in silence. A good many people looked at them, for they made a handsome couple. Gladys observed this, and was not displeased. After all, although there are man}' fellows in the world calculated to make excellent husbands—and often accomplished ones— the majority of them are not, as girls put it, \" very much to look at.\" Serjeantson might be referred to as an extremely presentable man. His well-knit, lithe figure corresponded well with his strong, intellectual face. Meanwhile the noble countess was tapping the heavy pile carpet of the specialist's waiting-room with a slightly impatient toe. Her son, the viscount, all unconscious of impending ill, was devouring the pages of a boys' magazine which had been thoughtfully provided for young patients by the specialist's servant. \" Well,\" said Gladys, at length. \" here we are at Tottenham Court Road, and I suppose our ways part ? \" How necessary it is to pick and choose one's words carefully—especially for a comely girl when talking to an eligible man who openly admires her ! Had Gladys remarked, \" Here our ways part,\" Serjeantson would have taken his dismissal as a matter of course and jumped into the nearest taxi. But the insertion of that little qualifying \" I suppose \" .made atl the difference in this particular case. In these two simple words there was an under- lying suggestion that jt was possible. their ways might not part—if. .for instance, Ser- jeantson might wish to turn off at a tangent to his walk proper and make for the Cavendish Square end of Harley Street by a somewhat circuitous route, taking in the humble byway of Francis. \" If I may— •\" he began. Gladys smiled. \" But won't you be late ? \" \" I suppose I shall be—a little,\" admitted the specialist, \" but only a little. Some of my patients are very unpunctual. Suppose I see you to Francis Street ? \" So off they turned down the thoroughfare whose plate-glass windows are so eminently suggestive of human nest-building, and pro- ceeded on their walk at a leisurely pace. She was going away to-morrow, reflected

HER PROPOSAL. S°9 Ker pace gradually slackened, and she began to look into the shop-windows, and then, in spite of the fact that she knew he had an important appointment to keep, for which he was already late, stopped at a window which was crowded with dainty linen goods. \" Will you wait for me a moment ? \" she said. \" I want to buy some handkerchiefs for one of the nurses at Matt's.\" \" With pleasure,\" said Serjeantson. She went in, and as she did so he looked at his watch. He was already a quarter of an hour late for his appointment. He drew up his eyebrows. It did not do to keep patients waiting, especially titled ones. Moreover, this particular countess whose son's throat he had to examine was the sort of lady who could recommend him many patients. However, he had said he would wait. It was a case of keeping his word either with'the countess or with Gladys, and he was not in love with the countess. A quarter of an hour elapsed, and Gladys had not reappeared. This was getting serious. He looked anxiously at the doorway of the shop, but the figure whose outlines he had grown to recognize so swiftly in the longest and dimmest corridor at the hospital still failed to present itself to view. He paced the pavement with impatient steps. He might have found some excuse for being a quarter of an hour late—the countess would readily appreciate that he could not always say precisely when he would be finished at the hospital—but half an hour was another matter! Where on earth had the girl got to ? Should he go in and look for her ? Possibly she had forgotten all about him ! He turned hot and cold at the thought. Yes, that must be it. She had forgotten all about him ! And to-morrow she was going to a place which was probably half-populated with male flirts. Thirty-five minutes late ! Gladys or no Gladys, he could wait no longer. Ah ! here she was, demure and composed as ever, and smiling as unconcernedly as if she had kept him hanging about there a mere couple of minutes. \" I am afraid you must have thought I wa~, never coming,\" she said, as she approached him. \" Well, I must say you have taken some time choosing the handkerchiefs/' replied Serjeantson, scanning the street anxiously for a taxi. \" If you don't mind my bustling you a little and dropping you at the hostel, I'll Uke a cab.\" \" Oh, yes,\" said Gladys, \" you must be very late ! I'm so sorry ! \" But it occurred to Serjeantson that she did not appear particularly penitent as she stood by his side on the kerb. Still, penitent or not, she looked exasperatingly pretty. A taxi buzzed up. They entered, and in a couple of minutes Gladys was alighting at the hostel.

THE STRAND MAGAZINE. 'l THOUGHT I OUGHT TO MAKE SOME EXCUSE FOR YOU,' FALTERED GLADYS.\" such a message ? For he knew it must have been she. What right Yet he couldn't feel angry with her, though he had missed a fee of twenty-five guineas, that being the price he set on the Eton boy's throat—not to speak of Lady Manxmore's recommendation, which meant hundreds more. \" Mr. Serieantson is en- gaged.\" The message had con- sisted of these four simple words. There was apparently nothing in them. The words constituted one of the com- monest sentences in daily use. Yet Serjeantson read some- thing into them that made him, after a cautious survey of the hall to see that the maid wasn't about, bound to the telephone like a school- boy and ring up the Nurses' Hostel in Francis Street. And if you want a quick reply, ring up any place con- nected with nurses, and you get it. Serjeantson got it this time. \" Oh, is Nurse Weir there ? \" inquired the suave tones of the specialist. \" Yes ; she is having tea here,\" replied a pleasant voice. \" You are \" \" Mr. Serjeantson.\" \" Oh, yes ! \" the answer came, with flattering prompt- ness. There was then a little delay — though it seemed to the specialist a very long one —and at length a voice that caused a strange tremor to take possession of his limbs sounded over the telephone- wire. \" Yes, Mr. Serjeantson ? \" There was softness, there was sweetness, and yet there was character in the voice. It was the voice of Gladys Weir. And the specialist took a metaphorical pull at his belt, for he had to perform the most subtle operation that had yet confronted

HER PROPOSAT.. him during his career. He paused for a moment, and then said, briefly :— \" I shall hold you to your word ! \" \" What word ? \" came from the other end. It was said casually enough, but anybody in Gladys Weir's vicinity would have noticed that the girl was as red as a rose. \" You said I was en- gaged,\" said Serjeantson. \" I thought I ought to make some excuse for you,\" faltered Gladys, though there was apparently no reason why she should speak in a faltering tone. \" I was not engaged, so it could only have been to you,\" replied the specialist, firmly. There fell upon his ear a sound caused by some con vulsive movement. \" Oh ! \" cried the girl's voice. \" Do you—mean to —suggest that——\" A cold fear gripped the specialist's heart. Had he made an awful blunder ? Well, even if he hadn't he must pretend that he had. \" I don't suggest any- thing,\" he replied, desper- ately. \" May I take it that I was and am engaged to you ? If so, I'll be at the hostel in seven minutes from now, and then we'll drive straight to Bond Street and \" He paused. The answer did not come immediately. His heart beat furiously. Was it—was it to be ? . . . Then at last:— \" If,\" said Gladys, \" you will promise to be very kind \" \" My darling ! As if I could be anything else ! \" She laughed softly at his vehemence. \" and allow me to do exactly as I like \" \" All wives do that now !\" \" 1 may think you over. But \"—and there was a note of outrage in her voice—\" if I thought for a that you imagined- single moment And at that her voice was irretrievably lost in a whir of cross-talk. 'I WAS NOT ENGAGED, SO IT COULD ONLY HAVE BEKN TO YOU,' REPLIED THE SPECIALIST, FIRMLY.\"

FOX- FARMING r>'.' •, The Story or a Curious New Industry. ELL, Brown, I hear you're going to take up ranch- ing in the West.\" \"Yes; I thought I'd try my hand at it.\" \" How many head of cattle will you have ? \" \" Not a single head, my boy.\" \" Ah ! Horses, eh ? \" \" No, not horses.\" \" Why, what are you going in for ? \" \" Foxes. Yes, you needn't gasp for astonishment. I'm going to run a fox ranch, or a farm, or an outfit, or whatever you like to call it. I'm going to raise foxes. There's millions in it. It's the latest occupa- tion for young Englishmen in Canada. I've run to earth a few .foxes in my time, but I little thought I should ever make my fortune out of the rascals. In a few years I shall probably come back and take a house in Park Lane.\" Every woman loves beautiful furs, because no product of the loom and the dressmaker is so becoming to beauty and plainness alike. Yet, in spite of the skill and enterprise of ten thousand fur-hunters there are not enough furs to go round. Consequently every year sees the cost of the finer furs growing greater and the difficulty of obtaining them increase. How is the demand to be met ? For, unless steps are taken to increase the number of foxes, martens, otters, beavers, and minks, none but millionaires will be able to buy furs. A marten coat (Russian sable) worn at a recent horse show in New York cost four thousand five hundred pounds. Another of black fox, consisting of no more than three skins, cost the owner over three thousand pounds. Hundreds of coats sell for as much as two thousand pounds apiece. And every pelt taken means much travel, adven- ture, and hardship for hunters and trappers in the distant cold countries of the earth. Is it not time to raise fur from animals in cap- tivity, just as feathers are obtained from domesticated ostriches ? It is wonderful that the idea has not been put into practice long ages since. Some years ago one Lamb (a Canadian farmer of that name, and not a quadruped cherishing an hereditary resentment), while hunting some strayed cattle in the woods, found two silver-fox pups, a male and a female, in a hollow log. He contrived to carry them home, and swapped them with a neighbour for a cow and a few dollars to boot. The neighbour experimented for several years with various kinds of pens and treat- ment, but finally became discouraged and sold the foxes for eighty dollars to another

FOX-FARMING. neighbour, \\\\ho also was no more successful than the late owner. This second man gave over his experiment to a third man, who lived on an island in Cascumpec Bay. The quiet of the new place, the increasing tameness of the foxes, and the intelligence of the new keeper produced conditions that relieved Mme. Reynard's nervous apprehen- sion for her young's safety, and three pups were reared to maturity in two seasons. This success, the result of eight years' experi- mentation, gave a strong impulse to a brand- new industry. Farmers have not many new industries to turn to nowadays, and this one began in earnest. About six men possessed Now that the secret is out fox-farms are springing up in Canada in all directions, and henceforth it would seem that the production of costly fur is only a problem for the animal husbandman. Perhaps the day will soon come when books of fox, marten, otter, and mink pedigrees will be published. One fox- farm recently visited by the writer on the banks of the St. Lawrence contained eighteen animals, for which the owner demanded fifteen thousand pounds. \" It is a better business,\" he explained, \" than raising cows, sheep, or poultry. It is a gold-mine. I started with a capital of seventy pounds, which I paid to an Indian DNB OF UK WIKK ENCLOSURES ON A FOX-FARM. From a Photograph. a knowledge of the fine art of rearing foxes in captivity, and jealously guarded their secret until 1910. Up to that time no live foxes were sold, except some light \" silvers \" to distant places. The surplus animals were killed and the pelts marketed in London. One dark silver pelt was sold for five hundred and eighty pounds at a London auction, and in 1910-11 prices of five hundred and forty pounds and four hundred and eighty pounds were obtained. Since then as much as seven hundred pounds has been realized, the highest price ever paid for the pelt of any kind of animal. Vol. x!iv.-45. for a litter of pups six years ago, and now I am a rich man.\" How odd it must seem to an English farmer that Reynard, so long the bane of the poultry-yard ind the victim of the fox-hunter, should be converted into a source of wealth ! For it must be remembered that the finest silver fox is only a colour-phase of the red fox. But it must not be assumed that fox- farming is altogether an easy business. It is, on the contrary, one that requires unusual patience and skill, and the risks of sudden loss are great. Foxes have been kept as pets and in zoological gardens from time

5*4 TUP: STRAND MAGAZINE. immemorial, but they have never been known to rear young in captivity. The reason of this seems to be the extreme nervousness of the female. She has been known to carry her young about in her mouth for days, putting them now in one place, then carry- ing them to another, until they succumbed to exposure and handling. Keepers have had to stay by the pens day and night for several days at a time to keep watch on the mother. Once a ranch-owner whose home was within sight of a certain mother fox was having his house painted. When the painter began to put the new colour on the house, either the sight of the stranger or the smell of the paint so excited the mother that she brought out her young and killed them ! They are so wild that ranchers make a habit of closing up the ranches in January to all ex- cept the attendants, and keeping the ranches closed until June, when the young are out play- ing about. Only keepers may ap- proach the pens during the breed- ing season, and it to the enclosures and climbed back, or have been caught in traps set for them near by. One day a fox-farmer's entire stock-in-trade disappeared. In vain he searched every corner of the precincts—not a trace of a fox could be found. In alarm, nearly approach- ing despair, he called upon his neighbours, and they commenced to scour the country. On the outskirts of a village they saw a crowd of men and boys around a barn, and, on inquiring, were told that a brace of foxes had taken refuge within. \" But,\" said the informant, grinning, \" they've got one of the rascals. Nailed him in a corner and filled him full of lead ! \" In a moment the farmer was shown the corpse of his prize beast, brought triumphantly A GENERAL VIEW OF KENNELS AND ENCLOSURES. is declared by some of them to be risky even to change clothes, lest the change worry the fox ! Foxes are peculiar in that they never become very tame, or only in exceptional cases. Still, life in the wire enclosures does not seem unpleasant to them. So far as is known, none have escaped by digging, but a few have managed to climb out. The over- hanging wire at the top effectually prevents this at most times, but an unusually heavy drift of snow in winter sometimes enables them to reach an elevation from which they can leap to the top and scramble out. In several cases, however, they have returned

FOX-FARMING. 5*5 spruce or fir for hours. It is an odd sight to see a tree full of foxes. Although generally suspicious and of an unfriendly nature, foxes in confinement usually maintain good relations among them- selves. If well fed they seldom fight. In a few cases two or more have turned upon a fellow-captive and killed or badly crippled it, but usually this has been due to under- feeding or to improper handling. Except when young, they snap and bite at the:r keeper if he attempts to handle them ; so they are separated or transferred by driving them from one enclosure to another through gates arranged for this purpose. When this is not feasible, they may be driven into boxes and so moved. They stand shipment well, and may be boxed and sent on a journey of several days by rail with perfect safety. Foxes have been shipped even so far as from Alaska to Maine, but, unless specially cared for in transit they do not often survive such a long journey. What are they fed upon ? Well, wild foxes eat a great variety of food, including mice, rabbits, birds, and insects, such as grass- hoppers, crickets, and beetles. At certain seasons large quantities of berries are eaten. Meat, therefore, is only part of their natural diet. Many fox-breeders, failing to recognize this fact, have fed them with meat largely and exclusively. Although this is not always followed by bad results, it is much better to supply bread, milk, table scraps, or manufactured dog-biscuits, all of which are relished. Indeed, foxes, like dogs, are almost omnivorous, and there is less danger in any particular kind of food than in too large quantities of it. At present it is not easy to establish owner- ship of an escaped fox in a country inhabited by wild foxes. It is therefore possible for persons so inclined to contrive the escape of valuable animals, and when free to kill them and market their skins. Not long ago, indeed, a fur-rancher recognized, at a Hudson Bay Company store, a valuable silver-fox pelt which he knew was his own property. He had lately been mourning the loss of a fine animal which had somehow disappeared from his ranch. \" Who sold you this ? \" he asked the factor. \" Oh, that's one of Pierre Ganong's catches. He's had great luck with his traps this season.\" \" I dare say,\" returned the rancher, grimly. \" That happens to be one of my foxes.\" \" How can you prove it ? \" \" I can show you its fellow—from the same litter.\" \" That doesn't prove anything.\" \" Then I'll make Pierre Ganong confess that he never caught that fox in the bush.\" \" How are you going to do it ? \" \" Will you help me ? In the interests of common honesty old Pierre ought to be brought to book. This is the third fox he has brought in, and I know for certain that he has not stirred five miles from his cabin in

THE STRAND MAGAZINE. interest. One present effect has been to raise the price of foxes from three hundred and four hundred pounds—the actual fur value of good dark silvers—to six hundred and even seven hundred pounds for the pups of 1912. The number of foxes being limited to a small increase each year, there is no danger of a \" rush \" or boom. At any rate, the prices are not yet high enough to prevent considerable profits, eliminating, of course, the risk of theft and escape from the argument. \" It is more profitable,\" said an experienced breeder to the writer, \" to rear red foxes at even a sovereign a pelt than to rear sheep, getting twenty shillings for each lamb and tenpence a pound for wool.\" How much greater the profit, then, when hundreds of sovereigns are obtained ! The fur is taken the last week in December. It is usually sold at the March sales in London, to which metropolis of the fur trade it is sent by mail, insured. After the sale the skins gener- ally go to Leipzig for manufacture. After- wards many of the furs pass into the hands of Royalty, particularly those of Russia and Austria. With many of these Royal furs a gorgeous effect is pro- duced by putting gold, by electrolytic methods, on the hair tips—black fox being the only fur that retains it. Some of these rarer fox-skins are destined to have interesting histories of their own. None, perhaps, was ever so remarkable as that which was purchased by a Paris furrier in 1883 and sold to the Grand Duchess of Baden. On the death of the Grand Duchess it passed into the hands of a famous nobleman in the diplomatic service, who presented it to the Empress Elizabeth of Austria, not long before her lamented assassination. The Empress was very proud of this silver-fox tippet, which she showed to many of her English friends, amongst whom was Lord Dufferin, calling it her \" favourite Reynard,\" and stroking it affectionately and inviting her old fox-hunting companions to admire the \" finest brush in the world.\" On the Empress's death in 1898 it was returned to the same furrier's from which it had come originally, in order to be cleaned, and after lying at this establishment for upwards of a year was ordered to be delivered to a celebrated priina donna who had been performing in the Austrian capital. In 1911 this prima donna's daughter-in-law, then owner of the fox tippet, with her husband, was staying at a

HERE is a bow-window in the parlour of the Padfield Arms which gives a view of the village street on one hand and of the open road and the fields on the other. Either way offers an attractive walk to an idle man; and I stood in the window in the mood that induces such a man to toss up for it. But a man may be even too idle to toss up, and it struck me to leave the decision to two unconscious arbitrators: Dan'l Robgent, who, with his stick and his rheumatics, was approaching from the village street, and an unknown bicyclist who was coming up the road from Codham, with many swerves and wobbles, occasioned by desperate twisting of the neck and staring at the sky. Dan'l was close, the bicyclist was comparatively far. Which would pass the window first ? With a brisk pedestrian and a cyclist intent on his journey, a dead-heat would seem likely ; but Dan'l's rheumatics and the cyclist's interest in the heavens introduced factors of uncertainty and gave the chance a sporting interest. Dan'l Robgent paused and rubbed his toe tenderly with his stick—he was losing ground : but after that slight refreshment he came on with quite a spurt, and the cyclist brought down his gaze and made a wild swerve to save his balance. By ARTHUR MORRISON. Illustrated by A. Leete. In the end victory lay with the unwitting Dan'l by the mere distance of the window from the inn-door ; for there the two met, and the bicyclist dismounted to ask Dan'l some question which was ungraciously received. \" No,\" I heard Dan'l say, very severely, \" I hain't seen no hairyplane, so there ! \" The bicyclist grinned. \" All right,\" he answe-ed. \" Keep your hair on, oad 'un! I didn't mean oad Taff-Pilcher's ! \" And with that he turned to his machine and drifted up the village street. There were military manoeuvres in this part of Essex, and a rumour had been heard that aeroplanes were to fly. So that I wondered at Dan'l's indignation as he came stumping into the parlour, grumbling vaguely. I ventured a question. \" That young monkey comes from Codham,\" said Dan'l Robgent, \" an' when a Codham man talks about hairyplanes to a Padfield man it means impidence. Speeches o' chaff, I s'pose they call it; but I call it impidence, to a man oad enough to be his father.\" I put my stick in a corner and sat down. Dan'l Robgent sat down, too, and in response to my well-understood signal a mug was planted under his nose ere he was fully settled. He received the mug with a well- bred affectation of surprise, as usual, and wished me excellent health. \"Well,\" I said, \"and who is old Taff- Pilcher ?'\"

THE STRAND MAGAZINE. this 'ere division, and a very nice genelman. Them chaps at Codham don't 'preciate him, Codham not bein' in this votin' division, though only three mile off. Mr. Taff-Pilcher looks arter our interests, as is proper, not the Codham p-eople's; and it's my belief he'll be member after next election, he's made hisself that popular. And when he is we shall be all right—them as votes for Mr. Taff-Pilcher, anyway. We shall all get summat for our votes, we shall; we sha'n't be wheedled out of 'em for nothink like as what we've bin ever since I had a vote.\" \" How much are you to get ? \" I asked. \" 'Tain't legal for a genelman to mention the 'zact amount, no more than it's legal for a genelman to pay it hisself. He's a lawyer, is Mr. Taff-Pilcher, and he knows the law thorough. I've heard my oad father say, in his time, when the law was different, the price o' votes dropped from a sovereign to five shillun paid down afore you went in ; then it got to half a crown an' less, an' then nothin' at all. Shameful it was—and has been all my time. But Mr. Taff-Pilcher's a free-hearted genelman, and he's goin' to see things put right again; an' as he won't be payin' hisself he ain't under no temptation to keep it low. And there's goin' to be ashfelt in Padfield street, and 'lectric light, and ping-pong in the workus.\" \" But what about his aeroplane ? \" \" Well, 'twasn't 'zactly his, so to speak, but one as he wasn't able to send. You see, he's always been special kind and attentive, has Mr. Taff-Pilcher. It was only a accident that he didn't get the Lord Mayor o' Lunnon hisself down to give away the school prizes, an' he's the very best cricket umpire we ever had on the field here, an' football, too. Fine, he is, straight and fair allus, with just a leetle leanin' towards Padfield, when it ain't too noticeable. That's what I like to see—a perfeck fair umpire as won't give it agin his own side if he can help it. That's the sort we want.\" \" And Codham doesn't ? \" I interjected, for the rivalry of Padfield and Codham was intense in cricket and football as in every- thing else. \" They're jealous ; Codhamites allus are I dunno what they expect; if they'd got any sense o' fairness they'd see that their votes ain't no good to him. But it was about the hairyplane I was tellin' you. It was in the annual sports—you know what a time we have here at Padfield sports every year. There ain't nothin' like it for miles round, and ain't been since they stopped Codham Fair. Well, it's wonnerful how Mr. Taff-Pilcher went into them sports. We made him judge, o' course, seein' how good he was as umpire, an' it paid us. And he helped us wonnerful other ways, too. He didn't pay for no prizes, you understand, nor subscribe nothin', 'cos that's all agin his principles. He's very partic'lar about his principles, is Mr. Taff- Pilcher, an' the one we found out about

MR. WALKER'S AEROPLANE. 5*9 chaps in charge was starin' up lookin' for the hairyplane. Them as tried to look for the hairyplane and see the races too got it worst, and you'd think they ought to ha' broke their necks unanimous. Mr. Taff-Pilcher, he was very eager about it, too, as you'd expect; but he didn't let it prevent him bein' faithful to Padfield as judge o' the sports. O' course a judge can't do very much for his pals, even in a country sports where things ain't done par- ticular; but what any judge could do Mr. Taff-Pilcher did, and did wonnerful neat, too. In the final o' the hundred yards' race, when young Bill Parker was comin' up neck and neck with a Codham chap, Bill bein' on the side nearest the judge, it was beautiful to see how he changed the tape from his left to his right hand, just casual like, as he turned round to speak to a com- mittee-man, and just brought it up agin Bill Parker's chest by about six inches. It was one o' the good-naturedest things I ever see done. And he was just as thoughtful all through. I could see it, havin' been in it all when I wasa young man, and knowed the comfort of havin' a friendly judge when you're a-takin' off for the long jump, or got a little dab o' cob- bler's wax in the spoon in the egg-and-spoon race. But the Codham chaps took it down- right spiteful. \" The arternoon went on, and most o' the sports was over, one after another, and everybody sick and giddy a- starin' at the sky, when there come a telegram for Mr. Taff-Pilcher. It come jist as the sack race was finishin' and there was nothin' more left but the tug-o'-war between Padfield an' Codham. That was allus last, an' a most howlin' outrageous tussle it's allus been, 'cos whichever side wins crows over the other for the rest o' the year. \" Well, the telegram come, an' Mr. Taff- \"A1.L PADFIKLD AND HALF CODHAM MUST HA* GONE TO BED WITH STIFF NECKS THAT NIGHT.\" Pilcher, he read it, an' took off his hat an' wiped his head and showed the telegram to the committee, an' their faces went as long as fourpenny kites. Everybody saw as some- thing was up, an' some said the hairyplane man was killed for certain, an' what a pity it didn't happen where we could all see it. And

THE STRAND MAGAZINE. \"THEIR FACES WENT AS LONG AS FOURPBNNY KITES.\" a telegram from Mr. Walker, saying that his sky-hooks had give way and jammed his wind-sifter, so that he wouldn't be able to get as far as Padfield. Nothin' as could have occurred could ha' grieved him wuss, unless it was that a accident might ha' happened to Mr. Walker instead of his sky-hooks an' his wind-sifter. He need hardly say how 'art-broke he was to see us all disappointed, an' he hoped, at any rate, we wouldn't blame him as was so devoted to our interests. He could only say that after his first pang o' grief at seein' us disappointed his next feelin' was one of 'artfelt thankfulness that Mr. Walker was safe, an' he was sure them was our sentiments,^ too. \" You never heard sich a shindy o' cheerin' as we give Mr. Taff-Pilcher arter that speech ; we cheered him louder than we'd ha' cheered the hairyplane itself- if it had ha' come, an' he was a greater favourite than ever—twice as popular as if it had come. But them Codham chaps was nasty about it, o' course. Sniffed an' snarled an' sneered, they did, an' said there was no flies on oad Taff-Pilcher, an' a sixpenny telegram came a mighty deal cheaper than a hairyplane. Fair sickenin' to hear 'em, it was ; you wouldn't believe people could be so ungrateful. \" It made the Padfield chaps pretty wild, an' they went at the tug-o'-war that savage that they pulled the Codham team over JIM BARTRIP, THE BIGGEST CHAP ON THE COPHAM SIDE, HE SLIPPED UP, AN*—

MR. WALKER'S AEROPLANE. right bang-off the first pull, as soon as Mr. Taff-Pilcher give the word, an' the crowd cheered louder 'n ever. Then they crossed over for the second pull, but this time the Codham chaps was all ready, an' wouldn't be done on the rush. It was a long pull an' a tough pull, and it went agin Padfield. That made things ekal, an' the crowd went half frantic when they crossed again for the last pull. This time Mr. Taff-Pilcher quite see what a lot depended on him, and he started 'em very slow and impartial. He had all sorts of along trouble in gettin' the red rag on the rope 'zactly over the mark, an' then when he give warnin' to take a strain it got off again an' he had to begin afresh ; an' so on for a minute or two, till at last Jim Bartrip, the biggest chap on the Codham sid', he slipped up, an' 'Pull!' bawls Mr. Taff-Pilcher at the top of his voice, jist in the nick o' time. Lor' ! Them Codham chaps jist come over hand over hand like a row o' sacks, Jim Bartrip a-blowin' an' a-cussin' an' a-scufflin' to get his feet under him, an' everybody on the field howlin' an' dancin' like mad. \" Well, there's no satisfyin' some people. The row them Codham chaps made over losin' that tug-o'-war was positive disgraceful, an5 there might almost ha' been a fight if most o' the crowd hadn't been Padfield people. Codham chaps was allus bad losers. They even tried booin' Mr. Taff-Pilcher when he give away the prizes, but that only made the cheers twice as loud, an' at last he was chaired off the field an' all the way to the station. It was the greatest day ever he had in Padfield, an' if the election had been the day after, he'd ha' been our member now. \" Well, the prize for the tug-o'-war was a side o' bacon, an' the team was eight. Bedlow, the landlord here, was one o' the team, an' late in the evenin' they brought the side o' bacon her 3 to divide ; and with that came trouble. There hadn't never been a side o' bacon given for a prize before, an' it never struck nobody there'd be any difficulty in cuttin' it in eight parts—an' p'r'aps there mightn't ha' been if they hadn't called in Huxon, the butcher, to advise. But Huxon was that professional an' scientific there was no doin' anythink with him. It was agin all the rules, it seemed, to divide a side o' baron into eight parts. You could divide it into three parts, or five parts, or nine or thirteen ; but anythin' else 'ud be unconstitootional. An' what was more, ail them parts was different sizes. It was no good argufyin' with Huxon; no amount o' argufyin' 'ud bring Huxon to go agin the principles of a lifetime. \" ' There's fore-end, middle, an' gammon ' he said, obstinit as pig itself. ' Or there's hock, an' collar, an' two streakies, an' back, an' ribs, an' loin, an' flank, an' gammon, an' corner. An' you can cut your collar in two, an' your loin in two, an' your back in two, aii' your streaky in three. An' that's the way pigs is made, an' pigs is bacon, an' you can't cut 'em different, whichever way you

522 THE STRAND MAGAZINE. \" Not only was there no argufyin' with Huxon, but he got that excited what between sports day an' laws o' the trade an' wettin' the occasion that presently there was no shuttin' him up, and at closin' time he had to be shoved out forcible, an' went off up the street, shoutin', 'There's hock, an' collar,an' two streakies, an' back, an' ribs, an' loin, an' flank, an' gammon,' an' all the rest of it at the top of his voice. \" So Bedlow shut the door an' told the rest o' the team they was there as his friends till the pint was settled, for the sake o' the licence. And they put the side o' bacon on the table an' sat all round it for about two hours, plannin' out ! the cuts, till it turned out as no- body particular wanted the hock an' the whole team was in competition for the gammon. That made a wuss confusion than ever, an' in the middle of it there came a loud tap at the winder, an' every- body jumped. Bed- low jumped highest, 'cos of his licence, though he made sure the p'liceman must be in bed long ago. But when they shoved up the win- der there was a chap standin' out- side all muffled up in j erseys an' sweaters an' sich, with his head all tied up in ear-flaps an' what-not, an' a big pair o' glass goggles all over his face. \" ' Come and hold my hairyplane,' says the chap. ' It's in a field along here, an' the wind's gettin' up !' \" ' What ? ' says Bedlow. 'THERE'S FORE-END, MIDDLE, AN' GAMMON, HE SAID, OBSTINIT AS PIG ITSELF.\" \" ' Didn't expect me, I s'pose,' says the chap. ' I'm late, that's all. I ought to ha' been here this afternoon, but my sky-hooks give way and jammed my wind-sifter. My name's Walker.' \" Them eight big chaps was that amazed you might ha' blown 'em all over with a

MR. WALKER'S AEROPLANE. 523 Mr. Walker. ' Look here, four of you come with me, and the other four go with my man round to the other side o' the field.' \" So they split out, an' each party went along the outside o1 the hedge, till Mr. Walker gropes about an finds a rope. \"'Here y'a r e ,' he says. ' Stop on this side the hedge o an' catch hold o' this. Get behind each other an' take a good hold —you'll have some hard pullin' pre- sently. But don't pull till I give you the word. I'm g o i n ' over with my man to see the tackle's all right.' \" With that he climbs over the hedge an' disappears in the dark. Presently they could hear him a-shoutin' to his man an' callin' out orders, an' after a little he comes back to his side o' the hedge an' calls out, 'All ready, Jones?' \"' Yes, sir,' sings out Jones, over at the other side o' the field. ' I'll cast off as soon as they pull.' \" ' Right,' says Mr. Walker. ' All you chaps ready, both sides ? Pull !' \" With that they pulled like all possessed, Mr. Walker steadying th? rope on his side o' the hedge an' encouragin' 'em. \" ' That's right.' he said, ' keep a steady draw on her. She's pullin' now, ain't she ? ' \" ' Aye, that she is,' says Bedlow, hangin' on for all he was worth. ' I shouldn't ha' thought there could be sich a wind a night like this.' ' ' Oh, any sort of a little breeze is

THE STRAND MAGAZINE. give you a bit of a rest. But don't stop pullin' till I tell you.' \" He called out to Jones an' went off to meet him. Bedlow and the other chaps hung on somehow an' waited, but they heard no more of him. After a bit Bedlow sings out:— \" ' Mr. Walker ! Mr. Walker !' \" Not a word of answer did they get, but presently the voice of Sam Gill from the other side o' the field callin' out most pathetic:— '\"Mr. Wal- ker ! We can't stick this here much longer!' And Bedlow cries out again :— '\"Mr. Wal- ker ! Flesh an' blood can't stand this no •more. Is them sky-hooks hung on the safety- valve ? Can't we take a rest ?' \" Then they heard Sam Gill again com- plain in' most molloncholy in the distance, an' presently says Bill Wood behind Bed- low :— \" ' This here hairyplane's easin' up. It don't pull half as hard as it did. P'r'aps the sky-hooks is hung on the safety-valve.' \" And once more they heard Sam Gill across the field :— \" ' D'ye hear. Mr. Walker ? We're a-goin' to let go !' \" With that the rope went all slack, an' they stood up and shouted across the hedge to Sam Gill. It was just beginning to get a little grey in the sky, and things wasn't so pitch dark. \" ' 1 can't see no hairyplane,' says Bill Wood. \" ' I can't see nothin' at all,' says Bedlow. \" An' they couldn't. 'Cause why ? There was nothin' there. There was no hairyplane, an' no Mr. Walker, an' no Jones. Nothing but a precious long rope with half o' the Padfield tug-o'-war team at each end of it! \" They got over the hedge an' met in the middle o' the field, and then they all got a presentiment at once. \" ' Them Codham chaps !' says four of 'em, and ' That side o' bacon!' says all eight. And with that they runned head- long. But it were too late.

THE EARLY DAYS OF THE CHANCELLOR T°HFE EXCHEQUER (Jl Sludy.) By HERBERT DU PARCQ, Author of \" The I.ifc of David Lloyd George.\" [The Author desires to acknowledge gratefully the kindness of the Caxlon Publishing Company, who have allowed him to make extracts, for the purposes of this article, from his \" Life of David Lloyd George \" which they recently published.] MK. LLOYD C.KORGB AND HIS DAUr.HTER MKGAN. rtt>m a Photograi'h by K. II. Hills. SIT down to write this article fresh from a walk and a talk with a typical English Con- servative of moderate views. We discussed—from opposite political standpoints—the Chancellor of the Exchequer. \" I hear my political friends,\" he said, \" talk of Lloyd George as if they would like to shoot him. But however much one may hate his views, it is impossible not to recognize that a man whose name was execrated a dozen years ago by the majority of English people. and who turned them right round a few years later to admiration of his policy and himself, must be reckoned among our great states- men.\" This magazine addresses a public of all schools of political thought and of none, but none of them probably will deny that interest attaches to what has been in many ways a phenomenal career. This article is an attempt to say something of the human side of that career. In the summer of 1864 Richard Lloyd, the

THE STRAND MAGAZINE. shoemaker of Llanystumdwy, a beautiful village near the growing seaside town of Criccieth. in North \\Vales, left his home upon a sad errand. He had had news from his sister, Mrs. George, in South Wales, of her husband's death in the prime of his life. William George died upon a farm which he was working near Haverfordwest; but he had been a farmer for only about a year. Before that he had spent his life as a school- master, and it was while he was in charge of a school in Manchester that his son David Lloyd (his second child) \\vas born, on January 17th, 1863. Richard Lloyd was not a rich man, but he was not too poor to help the widow and orphans of his kin. When he came back to Llanystumdwy he brought with him his sister and her little boy and girl. A second son was born soon after the father's death. From that time on the uncle devoted his life and all his money to these children. The visitor may still see the cottage at Llanystumdwy which now became the home of David Lloyd George. It is a small, sub- stantial stone house lying on the right-hand side of the village street as you approach it by the coast-road from Criccieth. fn those days a sign hung over the entrance door, with two boots depicted upon it, together with a legend in Welsh indicating Richard Lloyd's readiness to make or repair the boots of the villagers. On the left, as you entered the house, was the living-room, a comfortable and homely room much like the well-ordered kitchen of the Welsh farmhouse, but built upon a smaller and less pretentious scale. Its stone floor and wooden-beamed ceiling, and the large, inviting hearth which is the glory of the old country cottage, remain unchanged to this day. On the other side of the small passage was the shoemaker's cutting- room, afterwards converted into a parlour. A narrow wooden staircase leads to the bed- rooms, and a pleasant garden lies behind the house. Adjoining it is the workshop in which the shoemaker worked. There was a convenient hole in the wall near the bench where he sat at work, in which it was his habit always to keep one or two books, for every moment he could snatch from his work was given up to reading. For many years, and to this very day, Richard Lloyd has preached for his religious community, the Disciples of Christ (a primitive body with no paid ministry), in their chapel at Criccieth, and while he read, if an idea struck him or an author's sentiment appealed to him, he would take his pencil and add to the note he was preparing for next Sunday's sermon. He was the oracle of the village. Every evening a select circle of village politicians and theologians would gather in his work- shop and join in informal debates, over which he ruled by universal consent. David Lloyd George was sent to the village school when he was seven years old. The schoolmaster, David Evans, a fine specimen of the old type of pedagogue, soon marked him out for special attention. But he was

EARLY DAYS OF THE CHANCELLOR OF THE EXCHEQUER. 527 good friend to the family, and the praise of him which the children had heard from their mother and uncle had made it the hoy's ambition to follow in his footsteps. There were many difficulties in the way. For the first Law examination some knowledge of French and Latin was necessary. The boy THE BIRTHPLACE OF MR. LLOYD GEORGE, 5, NEW YORK PLACE, CHORLTON - UPON - MEDLOCK, MANCHESTER. This ia one of the extremely interesting unpublished photo- graphs which will appear in the second volume of \"The Life of David Lloyd George.\" published by the Caxton Publishing Company, Ltd.. and is reproduced here by their ipecial permission. HIS MOTHER. could get some help from his school- master in Latin, but none in French. His uncle came to his help. Richard Lloyd knew no- thing of French or Latin, but much may be done with a grammar and a dictionary, and two heads are better than one. Together uncle and nephew plodded through the un- known territory, spending long and laborious hours over difficult pieces of syntax or evasive idiom. Sometimes the two other children would join them in their work, and the four between them would pick their way through an old copy of jEsop's Fables in French. He made another step in his career when he en- tered a solicitor's office at Portmadoc in 1878. Soon after this he began to be known as a very fluent and attractive speaker. It is told of him that at the age of two he used to stand on the stairs and \" preach \" to the other children of the family, thumping with a stick upon the stairs in order to hold the wandering attention of the congrega- tion, so that his efforts of oratory began early. At that age, no doubt, his ad- dresses were in Welsh, for he learned English, in a sense, as a foreign language, and at home, and at play with his school-

528 THE STRAND MAGAZINE. way in which, by the time he was a young man, he had. by assiduous reading, obtained a mastery of English. In 1882 he joined the debating society of Portmadoc, and a few months later made a speech on the war in Egypt, of which the Car- narvon Herald said it would probably have gained praise had it been delivered in the House of Commons. He very early formed views upon public questions. Here is an extract from his diary which is particularly in- teresting just now:— An°nsl 1,1879.—Miss Becker speaks at Town Hall, Portma- doc, on Women's Rights. Very Tew real arguments. She proved too much, which proved no- thing. The earth would be a paradise were women to have their suffrage. She was rather sarcastic. Mr. Breese rose to oppose her, and made a half- hour speech. Very good. Spoke in rather a low tone, and so 1 did not understand half his speech. Miss Becker answered him, hut did not touch on some of the arguments. As for my- self, I do not see why single women and widows managing property should not have a voice in the adjustment, etc., of the taxes. In 1880 he aspired to write, and under the pseudonym of \" Brutus \" sent a political contribution to -the North Wales Express. The following notes in his diary refer to this :— November i. 1880.—Do not relish the idea of that refusal which Editor, overwhelmed with a redundance of such trash, will have to accord to some of them. November 5, i8So.—When I eagerly opened the North Wales Express this morning I found my own contribution on same page as leading article. I had AGED 2j. Pram n first of all looked up \" Notices to Correspondents,\" expecting to find a refusal of my letter, but disappointed on the right side. In 1881, after a first visit to London, he wrote the following interesting confession of his ambitions in his d'ary :— November 12.—Went to Houses of Parliament. Very much dis- appointed with them. Grand buildings outside, but inside they are crabbed, small, and su (\"locating, especially the House of Commons. I will not say but that I eyed the assembly in a spirit similar to that in which William the Conqueror eyed England on -his visit to Edward the Confessor as the region of his future domain. Oh,

EARLY DAYS OF THE CHANCELLOR OF THE EXCHEQUER. 529 THE VILLAGE SCHOOL AT LLANYSTUMDWY WHICH HE ATTENDED. From a THE COTTAGE AT M.ANYS- TL'MIJWY IN WHICH DAVID LLOYD GEORGE WAS BROUGHT UP BY HIS UNCLE. fVojn a Photoyraph. will be gratified. I believe il dc|>en<:ls entirely on \\\\hat forces of pluck and industry I can muster. 'Hie next year he was admitted a solicitor. In a letter home he describes the ceremony:— To-day 1 went to Chancery Lane and got admitted in regular humdrum fashion. The ceremony disappointed me. The Master of the Rolls, so far from having anything to do with it, was actually listening to some Q.C. at the time, and some fellow of a clerk swore us to a lawyerly demeanour in our profession at the back of the court, and off we shambled to the Petty Bag Office to sign the Rolls'. Soon afterwards he had his first case, and re- corded the fact duly in the diary :— 1885. January 30.—Whilst getting dinner at \" Temper- ance,\" Price asked me to defend someone for assault. This was about 12.20. Saw parties; rushed down to police- station by 12.30. Very much tempted at first to decline to go altogether, 1 felt so timor- ous. Got fellow off, to his immense joy. A month later, after a .veck's hard work in the County Court, he writes:— Have gained, in confidence at least, considerably. Some- how feel I may make tolerable advocate. For a young solicitor just beginning to build up a practice in a remote Vol. xliv.-47. THE AGE OF SIXTKEN. >Vofn a MR. RICHARD LLOYD, HIS UNCLE. from m 1'if I ,>r >; '. district of Wales, the chance of ever entering Parliament must have seemed remote. He first thought of it seriously after a big public meeting, addressed by the well- known Irish M.P., Michael

53° THE STRAND MAGAZINE. ing was usually adjacent to the parsonage or the Church school. Feeling ran high, and sometimes there were scenes com- parable on a small scale to the riot at Birmingham later on in his career. Once at a village fair he stood on a beer-barrel, or some other portable platform, while the local curate stood on the top of an adjacent wall, and to the delight of the crowd the two debated the tithe question. On that occasion the curate was completely worsted, so far as the approval of the audience went. The other great opportunity which came to him of making his name known in Wales was the Llanfrothen burial case. In 1888 the rector of Llanfrothen refused to allow and thirty-six. His opponent was none other than the squire of his village. Mr. Lloyd George was elected by a majority of eighteen. This is not the place to relate details of his political career, but I may quote some of his letters, which throw a light on the personal side of his political life. This was his humorous confession after his first vote :— My first division last night. I voted against bi- metallism, but I couldn't tell you why. Later on he wrote to his uncle :— I sha'n't speak in the House this side Whitsuntide holidays. Better not appear too eager, (jet a good opportunity and make the best of it—that's the point. He got his chance soon afterwards, and made a very successful maiden speech on frf^v-*-w4s /*&^%fi«*K»;JZ J..*r^~~^,^<f °^ **&, «~Wuxx^_/ X ^v, ^ ^L. ^^, <&&*& t*^*£- ^^ LITTER WRITTEN HOME AFTER MAKING .HIS FIRST SPEECH IN THE HOUSE OF COMMONS. the relatives of an old Nonconformist'quarry- man who had died to bury him in any part of the churchyard except a bleak corner where it was usual to bury suicides. The dead man's relatives consulted Mr. Lloyd George, who advised them to defy the rector, break down the churchyard gate, and bury their dead in the grave he had desired, beside the body of his daughter. This was done, and the rector took proceedings in the County Court, where, although the jury were against him, the judge decided in-his favour on a point of law. On Mr. Lloyd George's advice, his clients appealed, and won. By the time the judgment was secured the young solicitor's fame had spread through the Principality. In 1889 he was chosen as Liberal candidate for the Carnarvon Boroughs, where there was a Conservative majority of a hundred Compensation to Licensed Victuallers. He described the occasion in a letter home :— I have just spoken for the first time in the House, and if I am to judge by the cheers I got during the progress of my speech and immediately after I sat down and also the congratulations I received, I must have succeeded with a success equal—if not beyond— my very highest expectations. T W. Russell got up immediately after me and con- gratulated me upon my maiden speech, \" with which

EARLV DAYS OF THE CHANCELLOR OF THE EXCHEQUER. 531 lain when the latter was the idol of advanced Liberals. The following is from the diary for December 4th, 1885, when Mr. Lloyd George, then a young man of twenty-two, was eagerly- watching the General Election results: — Great Liberal victories in counties. Very glad of it. VVm c-.nvinced that this is all aue to Chamberlain's speeches. Gladstone had no programme that would draw at all. In an article published in the \\orlh Wales Express in October, 1884, he wrote of Mr Chamberlain in words which an enthusi- astic young Radical might well apply to Mr. Lloyd George himself to-day :— Mr. Chamberlain is un- questionably the future leader of the people. ... He under- stands the sympathies of his countrymen. It is therefore that he speaks intelligibly and straightforwardly, like a man who is proud of the opinions which he holds. He has no dread of Tory misconstruction. He does not hedge round his sentences lest the viper sting them. He is a Radical, and doesn't care who knows it as long as the people do. He is convinced that the aristocracy stands in the way of the development of the rights of man, and he says so unflinchingly, though he be howled at as an ill-mannered demagogue by the whole kennelry of gorged aristocracy, and of their fawning minions. Perhaps it was his disappointment at Mr. Chamberlain's failure to live up to this reputa- tion that made Mr. Lloyd George one of his bitterest antagonists. In the early days of his Parliamentary career Mr. Lloyd George bestowed great time and care upon the pre- parat ion of his speeches. He would usually write out very full notes of his speech, talk it over with Mrs. Lloyd George, who, since their marriage, in 1889, has always taken the keenest interest in his political ambitions, and by whose judg- ment and criticisms he has always set great store, and then send the notes to his uncle and his brother for their consideration. Some of his early speeches may be regarded as joint efforts of this family partnership, en- AT THE TIME OF HIS FIRST ELECTION TO PARLIAMENT. Prom a MRS. LLOVD GEORGE. from a I'lmloyruvk til/ K. II. Hill*. livened and adorned by his own rhetoric

532 THE STRAND MAGAZINE. freedom. But how about (he representatives who profited by all this patriotism ? How did they requite it ? I am told that the way the Chinese generals lead an army in battle is by lying in Sedan- chairs . in the rear and sending directions to the army in front how to face the foe. The officers get the cushions, the case, and the glory; the rank and file get nothing but the bullets, the sword- . cuts, and the hardships. What marvel is it that such generalship has resulted in nothing but disaster ? It will be seen from what has been written above that David Lloyd George's relations have played a great part in his life. It is, indeed, perhaps the most inspiring feature of his private life, as I have tried to show in the biography which the Caxton Publishing to give up his profession and devote himself wholly to politics. Mr. Lloyd George, on his side, has always regarded his family at Criccieth as partners with him in an enterprise which has happened to throw him into the light of publicity while they have remained in comparative obscurity. He has never grown away from his old home. Perhaps it is the unaffected simplicity of his manner which is his chief charm in private life. His old friends at Llanystumdwy, the farmers and shopkeepers of the place, feel towards him and he feels towards them NOTES FOR A SPEECH DELIVERED AT ABERYSTWYTH. Company published the other day, that all his family seem to have formed themselves into a league for his advancement. His uncle was in the truest sense a second father to him. His wife has never thought any- thing a sacrifice which has helped to win him fame. His brother—then junior partner in the firm of Lloyd George and George— uncomplainingly did the work of two in the early days of the senior partner's career, when his Parliamentary duties took him away from the office for a great part of the year, and long before he had been able just as in the old days when they hunted hares together, and when he used to tell them wonderful romances of his own composition. Then they looked up to him as a leader, and so they do now, but there is no subservience in their attitude, or patron- age in his. They always knew he was a wonderful fellow, and now the slow English have found it out—that, I think, is their view of the thing. To see him on his native heath, with his little daughter Megan by his side, is, I suppose, to see him at his happiest.