The Strand 1912-12 Vol-XLIV № 264 December mich

604 THE STRAND MAGAZINE. \" It must be that young cub Vereker, my brother's ne'er-do-weel,\" muttered Sir Charles, continuing his toilet. \" I have heard that there are points in which he resembles me. He wrote from Oxford that he would come, and I answered that I would not see him. Yet he ventures to insist. The fellow needs a lesson ! Ambrose, ring for Perkins.\" A large footman entered with an outraged expression upon his face. \" I cannot have this uproar at the door, Perkins ! \" \" If you please, the young gentleman won't go away, sir.\" \" Won't go away ? It is your duty to see that he goes away. Have you not your orders ? Didn't you tell him that I am not seen before midday ? \" \" I said so, sir. He would have pushed his way in, for all I could say, so I slammed the door in his face.\" \" Very right, Perkins.\" \" But now, sir, he is making such a din that all the folk are at the windows. There is a crowd gathering in the street, sir.\" From below came the crack-crack-crack of the knocker, ever rising in insistence, with a chorus of laughter and encouraging comments from the spectators. Sir Charles flushed with anger. There must be some limit to such impertinence. \" My clouded amber cane is in the corner.\" said he. \" Take it with you, Perkins. I give you a free hand. A stripe or two may bring the young rascal to reason.\" The large Perkins smiled and departed. The door was heard to open below and the knocker was at rest. A few moments later there followed a prolonged howl and a noise as of a beaten carpet. Sir Charles listened with a smile which gradually faded from his good-humoured face. \" The fellow must not overdo it,\" he muttered. \" I would not do the lad an injury, whatever his deserts may be. Ambrose, run out on the balcony and call him off. This has gone far enough.\" But before the valet could move there came the swift patter of agile feet upon the stairs, and a handsome youth, dressed in the height of fashion, was standing framed in the open doorway. The pose, the face, above all the curious, mischievous, dancing light in the large blue eyes, all spoke of the famous Tregellis blood. Even such was Sir Charles when, twenty years before, he had, by virtue of his spirit and audacity, in one short season taken a place in London from which Brummell himself had afterwards vainly struggled to depose him. The youth faced the angry features of his uncle with an air of debonair amusement, and he held towards him, upon his outstretched palms, the broken fragments of an amber cane. \" I much fear, sir,\" said he, \" that in correcting your fellow I have had the mis- fortune to injure what can only have been your property. I am vastly concerned that

[HE FALL OF LORD BARRYMORE. 605 irksome experience. I must ask you, sir, to bring to a close a visit which never should have been made.\" The young man smiled affably, but gave no sign of departure. \" May I ask, sir,\" said he, in an easy con- versational fashion, \" whether you can recall Principal Munro, of my college ? \" \" Mo, sir, I cannot,\" his uncle answered, sharply. \" Naturally you would not burden your \" Oh, you won't go ? \" asked Sir Charles, grimly. \" No, sir; I will stay.\" \" Ambrose, step down and call a couple of chairmen.\" \" I should not advise it, sir. They will be hurt.\" \" I will put you out with my own hands.\" \" That, sir, you can always do. As my uncle, I could scarce resist you. But, short of throwing me down the stair, I do not see \"'YOU ARE MY NEPHEW, VEREKER TRKOKLLIS?' ASKED SIR CHARLES.\" memory to such an extent, but he still remembers you. In some conversation with him yesterday he did me the honour to say that I brought you back to his recollection by what he was pleased to call the mingled levity and obstinacy of my character. The levity seems to have already impressed you. I am now reduced to showing you the obsti- nacy.\" He sat down in a chair near the door and folded his arms, still beaming pleasantly at his uncle. how you can avoid giving me half an hour of your attention.\" Sir Charles smiled. He could not help it. There was so much that was reminiscent of his own arrogant and eventful youth in the bearing of this youngster. He was mollified, too, by the defiance of menials and quick submission to himself. He turned to the glass and signed to Ambrose to continue his duties. \" I must ask vou to await the conclusion of

6o6 THE STRAXD MAGAZINE. \"'OH, YOU WON'T GO?' ASKED SIR CHARLES, GRIMLY.\" my toilet,\" said he. \" Then we shall see how far you can justify such an intrusion.\" When the valet had at last left the room Sir Charles turned his attention once more to his scapegrace nephew, who had viewed the details of the famous buck's toilet with the face of an acolyte assisting at a mystery. \" Now, sir,\" said the older man,\" speak, and speak to the point, for I can assure you that I have many more important matters which claim my attention. The Prince is waiting for me at the present instant at Carlton House. Be as brief as you can. What is it that you want ? \" \" A thousand pounds.\" \" Really ! Nothing more ? \" Sir Charles had turned acid again. \" Yes, sir; an introduction to Mr. Brinsley Sheridan, whom I know to be your friend.\" \" And why to him ? \" \" Because I am told that he controls Drury Lane Theatre, and I have a fancy to be an

THE FALL OF LORD BARRY MORE. 607 actor. My friends assure me that I have a pretty talent that way.\" \" I can see you clearly, sir, in Charles Surface, or any other part where a foppish insolence is the essential. The less you acted, the better you would be. But it is absurd to suppose that I could help you to such a career. I could not justify it to your father. Return to Oxford at once, and continue your studies.\" \" Impossible ! \" \" And pray, sir. what is the impediment ? \" \" I think I may have mentioned to you that I had an interview yesterday with the Principal. He ended it by remarking that the authorities of the University could tolerate me no more.\" '' Sent down ? \" \" Yes, sir.\" \" And this is the fruit, no doubt, of a long series of rascalities.\" \" Something of the sdrt, sir, I admit.\" In spite of himself, Sir Charles began once more to relax in his severity towards this handsome young scapegrace. His absolute frankness disarmed criticism. It was in a more gracious voice that the older man con- tinued the conversation. \" Why do you want this large sum of money ?' \" he asked. \" To pay my college debts before I go, sir.\" \" Your father is not a rich man.\" \" No, sir. I could not apply to him for that reason.\" \" So you come to me, who am a stranger ! \" \" No, sir, no ! You are my uncle, and, if I may say so, my ideal and .my model.\" \" You flatter me, my good Vereker. But if you think you can flatter me out of a thou- sand pounds, you mistake your man. I will give you no money.\" \" Of course, sir, if you can't \" \" I did not say I can't. I say I won't.\" \" If you can, sir, I think you will.\" Sir Charles smiled, and flicked his sleeve with his lace handkerchief. \" I find you vastly entertaining,\" said he. \" Pray continue your conversation. Why do you think that I will give you so large a sum of money ? \" \" The reason that I think so,\" continued the younger man, \" is that I can do you a service which will seem to you worth a thou- sand pounds.\" Sir Charles raised his eyebrows in surprise. '' Is this blackmail ? \" he inquired. Vereker Tregellis flushed. \" Sir,\" said he, with a pleasing sternness, \" you surprise me. You should know the blood of which I come too well to suppose that I would attempt such a thing.\" \" I am relieved to hear that there are limits to what you consider to be justifiable. I must confess that I had seen none in your conduct up to now. But you say that you can do me a service which will be worth a thousand pounds to me ? \" \" Yes, sir.\"

6o8 THE STRAXD MAGAZINE. \" And how would you act, may I ask ? \" \" That, sir, I should prefer to keep to my- self ; but my aim, as I say, would be to make Lord Barrymore a laughing-stock to all London.\" Sir Charles cogitated for a moment. \" Pray, sir, \" said he, \" why did you imagine that any humiliation to Lord Barrymore would be pleasing to me ? \" \" Even in the provinces we know something of what passes in polite circles. Your anta- gonism to this man is to be found in every column of fashionable gossip. The town is divided between you. It is impossible that any public slight upon him should be un- pleasing to you.\" Sir Charles smiled. \" You are a shrewd reasoner,\" said he. \" We will suppose for the instant that you are right. Can you give me no hint what means you would adopt to attain this very desirable end ? \" \" I would merely make the remark, sir. that many women have been wronged by this fellow. That is a matter of common know- ledge. If one of these damsels were to up- braid him in public in such a fashion that the sympathy of the bystanders should be with her, then I can imagine, if she were sufficiently persistent, that his lordship's position might become an unenviable one.\" \" And you know such a woman ? \" \" I think, sir, that I do.\" \" Well, my good Vereker, if any such attempt is in your mind, I see no reason why I should stand between Lord Barrymore and the angry fair. As to whether the result is worth a thousand pounds, I can make no promise.\" \" You shall yourself be the judge, sir.\" 'THE YOUNG WOMAN FELL FORWARD AND EMBRACED LOKD BARRYMORE WITH THE HUG OF A BEAR.

THE FALL OF LORD BARRYMORE. 609 \" I will be an exacting judge, nephew.\" \" Very good, sir ; I should not desire other- wise. If things go as I hope, his lordship will not show face in St. James's Street for a year to come. I will now, if I may, give you your instructions.\" \" My instructions ! What do you mean ? I have nothing to do with the matter.\" \" You are the judge, sir, and therefore must be present.\" \" I can play no part.\" \" No, sir. .1 would not ask you to do more than be a witness.\" \" What, then, are my instructions, as you are pleased to call them ? \" \" You will come to the Gardens to-night, uncle, at nine o'clock precisely. You will walk down the centre path, and you will seat yourself upon one of the rustic seats which are beside the statue of Aphrodite. You will wait and you.will observe.\" \" Very good ; I will do so. I begin to per- ceive, nephew, .that the breed of Tregellis has not yet lost some of the points which have made it famous.\" It was at the stroke of nine that night when Sir Charles, throwing his reins to the groom, descended from his high yellow phaeton, which forthwith turned to take its place in the long line of fashionable carriages waiting for their owners. As he entered the gate of the Gardens, the centre at that time of the dissipation and revelry of London, he turned up the collar of his driving-cape and drew his hat over his eyes, for. he had no desire to be personally associated with what might well prove to be a public scandal. In spite of his attempted disguise, however, there was that in his walk and his carriage which caused many an eye to be turned after him as he passed and many a hand to be raised in salute. Sir Charles walked on, andj seating himself upon the rustic bench in front of the famous statue, which was in the very middle of the Gardens, he waited in amused suspense to see the next act in this comedy. From the pavilion, whence the paths radiated, there came the strains of the band of the Foot Guards, and by the many- coloured lamps twinkling from every tree Sir Charles could see the confused whirl of the dancers. Suddenly the music stopped. The quadrilles were at an end. An instant afterwards the central path by which he sat was thronged by the revellers. In a many-coloured crowd, stocked and cravated with all the bravery of buff and plum-colour and blue, the bucks of the town Vol. xliv.-5*. passed and repassed with their high-waisted, straight-skirted, be-bonneted ladies upon their arms. It was not a decorous assembly. Many of the men, flushed and noisy, had come straight from their potations. The women, too, were loud and aggressive. Now and then, with a rush and a swirl, amid a chorus of screams from the girls and good-humoured

6io THE STRAND MAGAZINE. that it might be best to pocket their injuries lest some even worse thing should befall them. Many a maimed and disfigured man had carried away from Vauxhall the handi- work of the Tinman and his patron. Moving in insolent slowness through the crowd, the bully and his master had just come opposite to the bench upon which sat Sir Charles Tregellis. At this place the path opened up into a circular space, brilliantly illuminated and surrounded by rustic seats. From one of these an elderly, ringleted woman, deeply veiled, rose suddenly and barred the path of the swaggering nobleman. Her voice sounded clear and strident above the babel of tongues, which hushed suddenly that their owners might hear it. \" Marry her, my lord ! I entreat you to marry her ! Oh, surely you will marry my poor Amelia ! ' said the voice. Lord Barrymore stood aghast. From all sides folk were closing in and heads were peering over shoulders. He tried to push on, but the lady barred his way and two palms pressed upon his beruffled front. \" Surely, surely, you would not desert her ! Take the advice of that good, kind clergyman behind you ! \" wailed the voice. \" Oh, be a man of honour and marry her ! \" The elderly lady thrust out her hand and drew forward a lumpish-looking young woman, who sobbed and mopped her eyes with her handkerchief. \" The plague take you !\" roared his lordship, in a fury. \" Who is the wench ? I vow that I never clapped eyes on either of you in my life ! \" \" It is my niece Amelia,\" cried the lady, \" your own loving Amelia ! Oh, my lord, can you pretend that you have forgotten poor, trusting Amelia, of Woodbine Cottage at Lichfield ? \" \" I never set foot in Lichfield in my life ! \" cried the peer. \" You are two impostors who should be whipped at the cart's tail.\" \" Oh, wicked ! Oh, Amelia ! \" screamed the lady, in a voice that resounded through the Gardens. \"Oh, my darling, try to soften his hard heart; pray him that he make an honest woman of you at last.\" With a lurch the stout young woman fell forward and embraced Lord Barrymore with the hug of a bear. He would have raised his cane, but his arms were pinned to his sides. \" Hooper ! Hooper ! \" screamed the furious peer, craning his neck in horror, for the girl seemed to be trying to kiss him. But the bruiser, as he ran forward, found himself entangled with the old lady. \" Out o' the way, marm ! \" he cried. \" Out o' the way, I say ! \" and pushed her violently aside. \" Oh, you ruue, rude man ! \" she shrieked, springing back in front of him. \" He hustled me, good people ; you saw him hustle me ! A clergyman, but no gentleman ! What ! you would treat a lady so—you would do it again ? Oh, I could slap, slap, slap you ! \"

THE FALL OF LORD BARRY MORE. 6n with Lord Barrymore's thin, flushed face and Hooper's bulldog jowl in the centre of it. A moment after they were both upon the ground, and a dozen sticks were rising and falling above them. \" Let me up ! You're killing me ! For God's sake lei me up ! \" cried a crackling voice. When at last he made his way back through the crowds to his yellow phaeton, he was not entirely surprised to find that the back seat was already occupied by two giggling females, who were exchanging most unladylike repar- tees with the attendant grooms. \"AMID WILD VI-.LLS OF DELIGHT AND KNCOURAGBMENT FROM THE SPECTATORS, THB LADY UANCRD ROUND THB SHAM CLERGYMAN.\" Hooper fought mute, like the bulldog he was, till his senses were beaten out of him. Bruised, kicked, and mauled, never did their worst victim come so badly from the Gardens as the bully and his patron that night. But worse than the ache of wounds for Lord Barrymore was the smart of the mind as he thought how every club and drawing-room in London would laugh for a week to come at the tale of his Amelia and her aunt. Sir Charles had stood, rocking with laughter, upon the bench which overlooked the scene. \" You young rascals ! \" he remarked, over his shoulder, as he gathered up his reins. The two females tittered loudly. \" Uncle Charles ! \" cried the elder, \" may I present Mr. Jack Jarvis, of Brasenose College ? I think, uncle, you should take us somewhere to sup, for it has been a vastly fatiguing performance. To-morrow I will do myself the honour to call, at your convenience, and will venture to bring with me the receipt for one thousand pounds.\"

ANIMAL INTELLIGENCE. A Symposium of the Opinions of Leading Experts in the Animal on the Most Striking Example of Animal Intelligence They Have Ever \\Vitnessed. Illustrated by Harry Rountree. HE subject of animal intel- ligence is one of particular interest to all animal lovers, and we have therefore col- lected from many leading experts in the animal world their views on the most striking example of animal intelligence they have ever witnessed. It. is interesting to point out that in the opinion of the late Mr. Frank Bostock, who had a lifelong experience of studying the habits and the most striking characteristics of animals, the definition of the word \" intelligence \" when applied to an animal should be, \" What is the most fitting thing for me to do in the circumstances with which I find myself confronted ? \" The late Mr. FRANK BOSTOCK, the famous animal trainer and Managing Director of Bostock's Jungle. A lifelong association with animals of all descriptions, in which I think I may say I have figured as both friend and master, enables me to recall many striking instances of keen intelligence ; but, as I understand I have to reduce my repertoire to one single case, I must choose a happening which occurred several years ago, in which my almost human chimpanzee, Consul, played the leading part. Consul, I must tell you, is a perfect gentle- man in his habits, and, as a result of long training, can do almost everything with the exception of formulating words; even at that sometimes annoying pastime he is almost a professor, for those he knows well and those who are in his good books—in which I include myself—he can make understand practically everything that he wants them to. At the time to which I am referring I had just introduced a small but remarkably intelligent, though extremely mischievous, monkey to my good friend. Consul, who, although, as a rule, rather fastidious in select- ing acquaintances, in this case at once took a great fancy to the monkey, with the result that the pair soon became fast friends, and spent the greater part of the day playing all sorts of pranks on each other, in the inimitable manner which would seem to be an inborn gift with this particular species of animals. But, alas, the course of true friendship, like true love, seldom runs smooth, and one day a contretemps occurred which completely upset Consul's usually smooth and unruffled dignity. Consul, you must understand, has for years lived the ordinary everyday life of a gentleman of comfortable means, having a room of his own, with bed and all toilet accessories, and dining at table with a calm air as of one who regards a well-served dinner, breakfast, etc., as merely his birthright. One evening, however, before Consul appeared upon the scene, and while his dinner was

ANIMAL INTELLIGENCE. satisfaction, he carried the monkey to the sideboard and locked him in the cupboard, as if to make it clearly understood that he had been accustomed for some years to dine in comfort and cleanliness, and could not allow even his most intimate friends to disturb the peace of meal-time. The cupboard locked, he stood away from it for a few seconds, in order to satisfy himself that he would not be disturbed again. By this time the monkey had obviously seen fit to repent of his sins, for from within the cupboard no movement was heard ; where- upon Consul quietly seated himself, as is his wont.'at table and proceeded as usual to dine in peace, comfort, and last, but not least, \"HE WALKED UP TO THE MONKEY AND GRABBED HIM GENTLY BUT FIRMLY ROUND THE NECK.\" with dignity. I include the latter word for the simple reason that a well-trained animal seems to appreciate at once what he can do with dignity, and what will lack dignity— if he does it, which, by the way, he seldom does, for any ordinarily well-trained animal seems to regard dignity as a sort of fetish. In conclusion, as I have frequently re- marked that many members of the general public seem to misconstrue the meaning of the word \" intelligence\" when applied to members of the animal world, I may say that my own experience—which, I would humbly add, is a very lengthy one—is that intelligence, when applied to animals, should be defined as \" a proper understanding of things.\" And, after all, this definition cannot be termed inapt, for a human being who succeeds in getting a grip on a situation surely deserves to be termed intelligent. How much more intelligent, therefore, is the animal who does likewise ! Mr. TOM G ANN AW AY, the well-known breeder and exhibitor of bull-terriers, and originator of the famous '' Wild \" strain. The most remarkable instance of animal intelligence that I can recall relates to the well-known stud and show bull-terrier, Chader Wild, whom I bred, and who belonged to me right up to the time of his death. Chader Wild, as all interested in the \"doggy\" world will doubtless remember, was a winner of countless prizes, and so perfect was he for show purposes that he used to make his ap- pearance at almost every convenientl y-situated show in London. In fact, after having figured at, I might almost say, count- less shows, the old fellow at last seemed to regard being shown as his first duty in life, a duty which he apparently looked upon as being due as much to me as to himself. It so happened, how-

614 THE STRAND MAGAZINE. Chader Wild was aware of Chadee's destina- tion on that particular day. Returned home, however, my old dog seemed to have temporarily forgiven me— nothing in the world would persuade me that he was not aware that his son was to be shown in his stead—for, while not greeting me with his accustomed enthusiasm, he nevertheless ; HE HAD DECIDED TO PUT MATTERS RIGHT BY TURNING UP ON HIS OWN ACCOUNT TO BE SHOWN ONCE MORE.\" wagged his tail indulgently, smiling at me with his eyes (surely no human being ever smiled more meaningly than does a dog). \" So that's all right, old fellow,\" I said. \" I am glad you don't bear me any ill-will ; we must give the puppies a chance, you know.\" Chader Wild merely continued to smile and wag his tail, and some hours later I took him for his usual evening walk. . . , , As a general rule, he never left my heel during the whole of his \" constitutional.\" Neither did he do so on this occasion until we turned down Greycoat Gardens, a row of flats within almost a stone's throw of the Horticultural Hall. Suddenly, however, while puffing at my cigar, I was astounded to see my old bull-terrier dash off at top speed down the street, turn sharp to the right, and make for Vincent Square as fast as his sturdy old legs would carry him. I called and whistled without avail, and finally imagined that something particularly attractive must have induced him to run away. About his return home I was not in the least nervous, for he would have found his way back from Land's End to my house at Westminster. So, without worrying any- more about him, 1 decided to look in at the show, and—well, speak sternly to Chader Wild for his lapse from good behaviour when I got home again. The moment I entered the Horticultural Hall I saw that something unusual must have happened, for little knots ^ of people were grouped together, apparently afraid to move for fear of being attacked by some- thing ; what that some- thing was I could not imagine. \" What's the matter ? \" I said to one of the attendants. \" Only that your bull- terrier has turned up to be shown once more on his own account,\" was the reply. \" There he is sitting by the side of a dog in the schipperke class. You remember the last time he was shown here that was the space provided for bull-terriers.\" And so it was. Chader Wild had taken the law into his own hands, and,

ANIMAL INTELLIGENCE. 615 in-thirty-seconds,\" and other so-called infal- lible remedies on the poor old fellow without success, and as the days wore on he became so weak from want of sleep and through the great pain he was suffering that we took him to the dentist. After a lengthy consultation it was dis- covered that the troublesome tooth was one of the \" canine \" teeth, which are so long that it is impossible to pull them. Accordingly the dentist decided to cap the tooth with a gold crown, as it was very badly decayed. Now, I must tell you that Master Bill, the monkey sufferer, was anything but a tame sort of chap, and accordingly when we took him to the dentist to have the operation performed three men were told off to hold him in the chair. At first I thought it would be necessary for me to secure three other men, so energetic were Bill's struggles—he evidently had not the slightest idea what he was there for, and feared the worst; but when the dentist put some cocaine on his gums, and afterwards injected cocaine on both sides of the offend- ing tooth, the monkey, feel- ing relief from the pain at once, stopped-his struggles and lay back in the chair in the most peaceful manner possible. Then the dentist started drilling the tooth, and still Bill remained as quiet as the proverbial sheep, evidently quite un- derstanding that the visit was inspired out of feeling of friendship for him. The next day we had to visit the dentist again. Immediately the door of his house was opened Bill scampered down the passage, pushed open the door of the dentist's operating room, seated him- self in the chair, lay back as quietly and as gently as well may be, and awaited the dentist's attentions. On the following day Bill repeated this performance, showing the greatest delight when the dentist started to cap his tooth with gold. Evidently the pain that monkey suffered before cocaine was injected into his gums must have been in- tense, for he never forgot the dentist's house at which he had first obtained relief. Some two years later, when we were again visiting Orleans, and when we happened to be passing the house of the worthy dentist, he broke away and scampered up the steps in evident delight at once more having reached what he regarded as \" a home of relief for pain- stricken monkeys.\" I would mention that the name of the dentist is Dr. Rollo Knapp. Major E. H. RICHARDSON, the famous

6i6 THE STRAND MAGAZINE. refused to give way. At last the German storming party advanced. A party of Jagers, led by a German lieutenant, forced in the door of a house from which there had been a most obstinate defence. They bayoneted all the French inside, and went out into the back yard, where a Frenchman, severely wounded and with his rifle still smoking, was standing by a dog-kennel. The J'dgers wanted to bayonet him, but the lieutenant in charge, seeing he was severely wounded, prevented them. He apparently was very fond of his dog, and he sat down by the kennel and died. The house was now blazing, and the lieutenant, who was a great dog-lover, determined not to leave the dog to perish in the yard, so he took him out of the burning building, and after a few weeks they became de- voted companions. In October, in the operations round Orleans, where the Ger- mans were very weak, and where a number of jrancs- tireurs had risen, the Jagers were quartered. The officer had orders to go and reconnoitre a wood about two miles in front of the position. The lieutenant started out with some Jagers and his dog, which he had christened Bazeilles. The next morning the colonel command- ing the regiment inquired why he had received no report re the reconnoitring patrol, and the adjutant said that the lieutenant had been sent. A hundred and fifty J'dgers were therefore ordered out to see what had become of the patrol. They advanced about a mile, and got near the wood where the lieutenant had orders to patrol the previous night. At the entrance to the wood they saw the dog, bleeding, and howling as if to attract atten- tion. The Jagers belonging to his regiment said, \" What is the matter, Bazeilles ? \" and the dog whined and led them into the wood. They saw branches and leaves scraped to- gether in a mound. One of the mounds was partly uncovered, and they saw a man's face protruding, which they immediately recog- nized as that of the lieutenant. The faithful dog had moved the branches and leaves off the lieutenant's face, and had thus saved his life. The others were all covered and suffo- cated. The lieutenant was still alive, though unconscious. What really happened was that while the lieutenant's patrol was reconnoitring in the wood the dog suddenly growled and imme- diately after there came a volley from some underwood where a number of francs-tireurs

ANIMAL INTELLIGENCE, 617 to consciousness was, \" Where is my dog Bazeilles ?\" Bazeilles was buried by the Jagers and a tombstone erected in the village with the inscription, \" He saved his master's life and led up the rescue party. True unto death.\" t Count HOLLENDER, a well-known expert in the dog world. I have one and sometimes two bull-terriers, either one or both of whom invariably accompany me wherever I go—in or out of town. In the traffic they are far more sensible than most human beings, and never require the least looking after ; indeed, the manner in which they casually yet actually very carefully avoid fast-travelling motor-cars, taxi-cabs, and so on and so forth, has proved to me that what they do not know about looking after their own safety in traffic is probably best forgotten. Nearly every morning I take them by- Tube with me wherever I am going, either to the West-end of London or to the City. If fine, I get out at Hyde Park Corner and give my two four-legged friends a run through the Park. On the other hand, if the weather is of the 1912 vintage I go on by Tube to Piccadilly Circus. Now the amazing thing is that before the train pulls up at Hyde Park Corner, and before the name of the station is called out, both terriers invariably get up, look at me with a sort of laughing \" this-is- where-we-get-out-for-a-good-gallop \" expres- sion in their eyes, wag their tails, and trot off towards the door. If I say, \" No ; it's too wet this morning,\" they sit down again with a resigned air, and never move until we arrive at Piccadilly Circus, when they will get up—not too cheerily, knowing that they are not going for a walk that -morning— and precede me on the way out — on the lead, of course. At no other station on the route—and I have had them with me from end to end of a Tube journey—do they bestir themselves, always leaving me to tell them when the time to get out has arrived. Is it possible my two bull-terriers count the stations ? If not, how do they possibly know ? The whole thing baffles me entirely. I should be glad if some animal lover of wide experience amongst STRAND MAGAZINE readers would give me his views on the subject. At one time and another I have asked many authorities, but have as yet received no satisfactory solution of certainly the most striking example of animal intelligence that has ever come under my notice. Signer BARTHOLOMEW VOLPI, the great animal trainer and proprietor of the Royal Italian Circus. In the course of years of experience with trained animals I have had a large number of cases of almost unbelievable animal intelligence brought before my notice, but the incident which stands out most vividly occurred some years ago, when I was in the

6i8 THE STRAND MAGAZINE. I may add that the moment I left the ring I made all haste to the nearest barber, and shortly afterwards left—minus my beard. Mrs. HARTSHORNE, Matron of Our Dumb Friends' League Hospital. As I have personally come in touch with a very large proportion indeed of the one hundred thousand odd .eases of animal sickness that have been treated at Our Dumb Friends' League Hos- pital during the course of the past six years, I feel bound to say veterinary treatment elsewhere, and in many cases I cannot help remarking that some of the owners of the said animals most assuredly do not themselves seem blessed with a super- fluity of intelligence; so that the very fact that their \" pets\" so frequently show themselves to have more than a fair share <& common sense certainly seems to suggest that animals, in certain circumstances, \" work things out for themselves \" ; though this theory is directly opposed to a pet notion of my own, which is that all animals should be \"MME. BATAVIA CAME TO MY RESCUE AND HELPED TO DRIVE THE BABOON OFF.\" that I can scarcely imagine that I should be surprised by any example of animal intel- ligence ; for, frankly, a lengthy experience of animal life has taught me that, despite what sceptics may say to the contrary, to all unbiased critics there exists no manner of doubt at all that many members of the animal world possess intelligence which, in a very great measure, can be justly termed \" almost human.\" I would mention, by the way, that in our hospital we only \" doctor \" animals belonging to owners who are too poor to pay for treated with reason and intelligence if any par- ticular response is to be expected from them. But enough of idle theories. Conjecture with reference to the intelligence of animals is, I am convinced, an unsatisfactory policy to follow, for members of the animal world are continually giving students much food for \" surprise \" reflection. This being so, I find it exceedingly difficult to select one particular \" star\" case as being the most striking that has ever come under my observation. After thinking over the thousands of examples that I can recall, I feel, however, disposed to

ANIMAL INTELLIGENCE, 619 give my vote to a certain parrot who was' brought in for treatment not long ago. Poor Polly ! He looked a most pathetic sight, wrapped as he was in flannel, when his owner handed him over to my care, in a condition almost verging on death. Still, a little care sometimes works miracles, and thus I did not absolutely despair of saving his life when I took him tenderly in my arms. But I confess I received the shock of my life when he at once turned his head round and ex- claimed, in almost humanly pathetic tones, \" For goodness' sake fetch the doctor; Polly's sick ! \" I would mention that I afterwards heard that my feathered patient had belonged to a woman who had for years been suffering from a lingering illness, and who was frequently in the habit of saying, \" For goodness' sake fetch the doctor,\" whenever she felt more than usually indisposed. The addition of the words \" Polly's sick \" most certainly con- vinces me, however, that the bird had thoroughly understood the feelings which prompted his mistress to call for medical aid—feelings, obviously, which, when he himself experienced them, prompted him to call for similar assistance for himself. I would mention that my patient, Polly, eventually recovered, thanks in a very large measure to the intelligence which he at all times showed in doing exactly what he soon learnt he was expected to do. In conclusion, I should like to say that my years of intimate association with animals have proved to me that it is at all times the most absurd of fallacies to underrate the intelligence of members of the animal world. Those who have no intimate knowledge of animal life are apt to dismiss as coincidences various examples of intelligence which I am personally convinced are based upon sound common-sense reasoning. Mr. G. H. CULLUM SCOTT, Secretary, Battersea Home for Lost Dogs. The most remarkable example of animal intelligence that has ever come under my notice occurred only a few weeks back, when a dog was brought to the Battersea Home by the police in the usual way, having been picked up when not under proper control in the neighbourhood of King's Cross. It afterwards transpired that the said dog had been the hero of quite a remarkable adventure. Purchased at a large London stores by a gentleman living at Bedford, he had been delivered at St. Pancras Station to be taken on to his new home by his purchaser's son. Somehow or other, however, he never took a fancy to Bedford as a place of residence, and two or three days later he slipped out of the house when some visitors were leaving, and for over forty-eight hours nothing further was heard of him. At the end of that time the owner received a letter from a friend stating that a dog bearing his name on his collar had been seen in the corridor carriage of a train running between Bedford and

THE SENSE OF TOUCH. By \"OLE LUK-OIE,\" Author of \" The Green Curve,\" etc. Illustrated by John Cameron. ES, perhaps in some ways it may appear ludicrous. But on the whole the unpleasant side swamped the other, and in reality it was a ghastly experience. At all events, I have no wish to go through anything of the sort again. Once is enough. Why, I've hardly been able to sleep for bad dre.ims ever since. I'll tell you about it, since you insist; but I must do it in my own way, which means recalling the whole thing bit by bit as it occurred, and you'll have to listen to all sorts of unimportant details, for I'm not up to making an artistic story of it. But that will be an advantage, because you will be the better able to appreciate n y mental state at the time—how the affair ap| eiled to me—and will not judge of it by the way it strikes you, sitting here safe in the club, in broad daylight, and in God's fresh air. Ton my word, I really don't know what made me go into the place. I've never been keen on cinemas. The ones I went to when they first came out quite choked me off. The jiggling of the pictures pulled my eyes out till they felt like a crab's, and the potted atmosphere made my head ache. I was strolling along, rather bored with things in general and more than a bit tired, and happened to stop as I passed the doors. It seemed just the ordinary picture palace or electric theatre show—ivory-enamelled por- tico, neuralgic blaze of flame arc-lights above, and underneath, in coloured incandescents, the words, \" Mountains of Fun.\" Fun ! Good Lord ! An out - sized and over - uniformed tout, in dirty white gloves and a swagger stick, was strolling backwards and forwards, alternately snouting invitations to see the \" continuous performance \" and chasing away the recurring clusters of eager-eyed children, whose outward appearance was not suggestive of the possession of the necessary entrance fee. There were highly-coloured posters on every available foot of wall-space—sensa- tional scenes, in which cowboys, revolvers, and assorted deaths predominated—and across them were pasted strips of paper bearing the legend, \" LIFE - REPRO Novelty This Evening.\" I confess that, old as I am, it was that ex- pression which caught me—\" LIFE-REPRO.\" It sounded like a new metal polish or an ointment for \" swellings on the leg,\" but it

THE SENSE OF TOUCH. 621 had the true showman's ring. I asked the janitor what it meant. Of course he did not know—poor devil!—and only repeated his stock piece: \" Splendid new novelty. Now showing. No waiting. Continuous perform- ance. Walk right in.\" I was curious; it was just beginning to rain; and I decided to waste half an hour. No sooner had the metal disc—shot out at me in exchange for sixpence—rattled on to the zinc counter of the ticket-window than the uniformed scoundrel thrust a handbill on me and almost shoved me through a curtained doorway. Quite suddenly I found myself in a dark room, the gloom of which was only accentuated by the picture quivering on a screen about fifty feet away. The change from the glare outside was confusing and the atmosphere smote me, and as I heard the door bang and the curtain being redrawn I felt half inclined to turn round and go out. But while I hesitated, not daring to move until my eyes got acclimatized, someone flashed an electric torch in my eyes, grabbed my ticket, and squeaked, \" Straight along, please,\" then switched off the light. Useful, wasn't it ? I couldn't see an inch. You know, I'm not very touchy as a rule, but I was getting a bit nettled, and a good deal of my boredom had vanished. I groped my way carefully down what felt like an inclined gangway, now in total darkness, for there was at the moment no picture on the screen, and at once stumbled down a step. A step, mind you, in the centre of a gangway, in a place of entertainment which is usually dark ! I naturally threw out my hands to save myself and grabbed what I could. There was a scream, and the film then starting again, I discovered that I was clutching a lady by the hair. The whole thing gave me a jar and threw me into a perspiration—you must remember I was still shaky after my illness. When, as I was apologizing, the same, or another, fool with the torchlight flashed it at my waistcoat and said, \" Mind the step,\" I'm afraid I told him, as man to man, what I thought of him and the whole beastly show. I was now really annoyed, and showed it. I had no notion there were so many people in the hall until I heard the cries of \" 'Ssshh ! \" \" Turn him out ! \" from all directions. When I was finally led to a flap-up seat —which I nearly missed, by the way, in the dark—I discovered the reason for the im- patience evinced by the audience. I had butted in with my clatter and winged words at the critical moment of a touching scene. To the sound of soft, sad music, all en the black notes, the little incurable cripple che-ild in the tenement house was just being restored to health by watching the remarkably quick growth of the cowslips given to her by the kind-hearted scavenger. Completely as bore- dom had been banished by the manner of my entrte it quickly returned while I suffered the long-drawn convalescence of \" Little Emmeline.\" As soon as this harrowing film

622 THE STRAND MAGAZINE. Jove, we are ! Even the attendants at this one-horse gaff were wearing uniforms. And the applause with which the jumble of sheer military impossibility and misplaced senti- ment presented to us was greeted proves it. The story was called \" Only a Bugler Boy.\" The first scene represented a small detach- ment of British soldiers \" At the Front \" on \" Active Service\" in a savage country. News came in of the \" foe.\" This was the occasion for a perfect orgy of mouthing, gesticulation, and salutation. How they saluted each other, usually with the wrong hand, without head-covering, and at what speed ! The actors were so keen to convey the military atmosphere that the officers, as often as not, acknowledged a salute before it was given. After much consultation, deep breathing exercise, and making of goo-goo eyes, the long-haired rabbit who was in command selec- ted a position for \" defence to the death\" so obviously unsuitable and suicidal that he should have been ham-strung at once by his round-shouldered gang of supers. But, no! In striking attitudes they waited to be attacked at immense and quite unnecessary disadvantage by the savage horde. Then, amid noise and smoke, the commander endeavoured to atone for the hopeless situa- tion in which he had placed his luckless men by waving his sword and exposing himself to the enemy's bullets. I say \" atone,\" for it would have been the only chance for his detachment if he had been killed, and killed quickly. Well, after some time and many casualties, it occurred to him that it would be as well to do something he should have clone at first, and let the nearest friendly force know of his predicament. The diminutive bugler with the clean face and nicely-brushed hair was naturally chosen for this very dangerous mission, which even a grown man would have had a poor chance of carrying out, and after shaking hands all round, well in the open, the little hero started off with his written message. Then followed a prolonged nightmare of crawling through the bush-studded desert. Bugler stalled savage foe, and shot several with his revolver. Savage foe stalked bugler and wounded him in both arms and one leg. Finally, after squirming in accentuated and obvious agony for miles, bugler reached the nearest friendly force, staggered up to its commander, thrust his despatch upon him, and swooned in his arms. Occasion for more saluting, deep breathing, and gesticula- tion, and much keen gazing through field- glasses—notwithstanding the fact that if the beleaguered garrison were in sight the sound of the firing must have been heard long before ! Then a trumpet-call on the harmonium, and away dashed the relief force of mounted men. Meanwhile we were given a chance of seeing how badly things had been going with the devoted garrison at bay. It was only when they were at their last gasp and cartridge that the

THE SENSE OF TOUCH. 623 Well, I'm not quite sure what it means my- self—some sort of a low drinking-den. But, anyway, that's what I felt about it. After all, he was a harmless sort of chap, and his unsophisticated enjoyment made me envious. I took an interest in him—thought of giving him a bob or two when I went out. I want you to realize that I had nothing but kindly feelings towards the fellow. He comes in later on—wasn't so unsuccessful after all. Then we had one of those interminable scenes of chase in which a horseman flies for life towards you over endless stretches of plain and down the perspective of long vistas of forest, pursued at a discreet distance by other riders, who follow in his exact tracks, even to avoiding the same tree-stumps, all mounted on a breed of horse which does forty- five miles an hour across country and fifty along the hard high road. I forget the cause of the pursuit and its ending, but I know revolvers were used. The next film was French, and of the snow- ball type. A man runs down a street. He is at once chased by two policemen, one long and thin and the other fat and bow-legged with an obviously false stomach. The fol- lowers very rapidly increase in number to a mixed mob of fifty or more, including nurses with children in perambulators. They go round many corners, and round every corner there happens to be a carefully arranged obstacle which they all fall over in a kicking heap. I remember that soot and whitewash played an important part, also that the wheels of the passing vehicles went round the wrong way. Owing to the interruption of light, was it ? I daresay. Anyway, it was very annoy- ing. Then we had a bit of the supernatural. I'm afraid I didn't notice what took place, so I'll spare you a description. I was en- tirely engrossed with the efforts of the wretched pianist to play tremolo for ten solid minutes. I think it was the ghost melody from \" The Corsican Brothers \" that she was struggling with, and the harmonium did not help one bit. The execution got slower and slower and more staccato as her hands grew tired, and at the end I am sure she was jabbing the notes with her aching fingers straight and stiff. Poor girl ! What a life ! At about this moment, as far as I remember, a lady came in and took the seat in front of mine. She was a small woman, and was wearing a microscopic bonnet composed of two strings and a sort of crepe muffin. The expression of her face was the most perfect crystallization of peevishness I've ever seen, and her hair was screwed up into a tight knob about the size and shape of a large snail-shell. Evidently not well off—probably a char- woman. I caught a glimpse of her gloves as she loosened her bonnet-strings, and the finger- tips were like the split buds of a black fuchsia just about to bloom. Shortly after she had taken her seat my friend with the Boat-Race favour suddenly felt hungry, cracked a nut

624 THE STRAND MAGAZINE. delivery. Just pass me the whisky—and the siphon, please—before I start. I haven't talked so much since I was ill. That's better. Well, this is the gist of what he said :— \" Ladies and gentlemen, I will not de-tain you vurry long. Before the next item of the programme, I wish, as re-presentative of the pro-ducers, the Stegomeyer P. Fiske Life- call for me to take up your valuable time, but, ladies and gentlemen, they are most extra-ordinary films, and it is to some special points of their extra-ordinary nature that I shall endeavour to draw your kind attention. \" In the first place, the pro-ductions of the Life-Repro Syndicate are all scientific and instructive in their character. They are, 'LADIES AND GKNTLE.MEN, I WILL NOT DK-TAIN YOU VURRY LONG. Rervr: Syndicate of N'York City, to make you acquainted, in a few intro-ductory words, with one or two facts. The next series of films that will show are the pro-ductions of the laboratory of that firm, and will—I venture to think—be something quite noo to you. In fa-act, as they have—never—until this evening—been exhibited in public, I may say that this pre-sentation is their dress rehearsal. Tf they were ordinary films there would be no also, the vurry latest de-velopment of colour- photography in its most perfect form, and pre-sent objects in their true natural colours. As pro-jected in this auditorium-—I should say, hall—this evening, the objects shown will be magnified anywheres from six to forty diameters. As far as the optical effect goes, we do claim that our films are su-perior to all others produced up to date, in definition, in chiaroscuro \" —he took rather a toss over .

THE SENSE OF TOUCH. 625 that word—\" in the values and abso-lute truth of tint, and in entire absence of flicker. I might say that, for smooth running, our pictures bear the same relation to anything you have yet seen that kiimmel trickling from a bottle does to the jet from a soda- fountain, or that a spin in an auto-mobile down your Bornd Street or Nor-thumberland Avenoo does to a ride in a spider over a corduroy road. So much for what we do for one sense—that of sight. Besides that sense, however, we cater, as many inventors have attempted to do, with more or less success, for the sense of hearing. By means of our automatic, self-registering, self-record- ing, synchronic, micro - mega - audiphonic booster, patented in sixteen different coun- tries, we are able to give you, together with a feast for the eye, an ex-act re-production of the sounds or noises which are appropriate to the ob-ject being viewed. With our equipment the register is perfect, the sound- record synchronizes ab-solutely with the picture-record, and there is no race or struggle between the acoustic and optical pre-senta- tion. \" There is no accidental noise to distract, for our machines run as silent as a skunk on velvet, while the sound which impinges upon the tympanum is magnified or diminished in volume and intensity in pre-cisely the same pro-portion as the image pro-jected on to the retina. Thus, if you should see in the picture a mouse about two feet in length —that is, magnified about twelve times— you will hear the animal squeak a dozen times as loudly as does the actual little ro-dent doing a Marathon behind the hard wood skirting of your best parlour. That is two senses we cater for. But are we content ? No ! We also appeal to a third sense—that of smell ! \" He paused for a moment, as if aware that this statement would produce an effect. There was some movement and whispering amongst the adults of the audience. \" I mean it, ladies and gentlemen. I am not presooming to be gay with you. I am simply handing out the cold truth ! You will see; you will hear; you will smell! By means of our ' odorator '—also patented in sixteen countries—the natural scent apper- taining to whatever is on the screen, and appropriately magnified in intensity, will be wafted over you with the pictures. There is no need for any alarm, ladies. There can be no danger of infection, for this is not a case of repro-duction—it is a matter of imitation. The real smells are not caught, canned, and Vol. xliv.—55. released. They are just cleverly imitated. This is one more triumph, and the latest, achieved by the science of synthetic chemistry. I can promise you that the odours you will perceive will be harmless, but I cannot guarantee that they will all be pleasant. We must remember that our endeavour is to repro-duce Nature as realistically as possible.

6z6 THE STRAND MAGAZINE. hope to do so. But first I wish to explain our title of' Life-Repro.' As I say, as far as four senses are concerned, we have solved the problem of the repro-duction of life—sight, hearing, smell, and taste ; I include the latter as it is so intimately bound up with smell. But one sense—that of touch—remains unsatisfied. And now, to leave accomplished facts and enter into the realms of anticipa- tion \"—his tone now grew more impressive— \" I wish to state that it is the present aim of the Stegomeyer P. Fiske Syndicate to fill that gap in their appeal to the human intelligence and sensibilities, and to cater for the sense of touch. We have not yet succeeded, and I need hardly remind you of what that stage of perfection would imply, beyond saying that it-will be a case of dealing in three dimensions, and not in two. Though we have not got to it, there are now, in a certain laboratory on the island of Man-hattan—away on the other side—quite a number of the brightest intellects of the time working day and night to arrive at a solution. At their service they have all the resources of science, and behind them they have the backing of unlimited capital. Millions of dollars are being spent, and millions more are, if necessary, at their disposal. It's a big propo-sition ! \"No one can ever tell when an epoch-making discovery is going to be made. It is largely a matter of chance. Given the favourable conditions, we may stumble upon it by a lucky accident at any moment.\" As he touched upon finance the man's plump hands slowly fluttered to the level of his shoulders like flat fish swimming to the surface of the water in a tank. For the moment the spell was broken. He almost seemed to be persuading us to buy something \" dirt sheap.\" He continued, in a more conversational tone:— \" This evening we are only pre-senting one film—a study in natural history portraying a life-and-death combat between two insects— a praying mantis and a scorpion. The mantis is not, as might be imagined from its popular name, a benevolent animal. It is the most ferocious creature known to science, and might with justice be called the ' Thug' of the insect world. It scraps for pleasure, and kills from the lust of slaughter. Without any poison fangs or sting, it slays its victims by crushing them to death with its huge spiked fore-legs. The actual specimen whose actions you will be able to study was obtained from the mahogany forests of Honduras, where these insects reach an immense size. It is a female, which, in the case of this insect only, ladies, is the more ferocious sex. The par- ticular scorpion with which it fights was caught by A-rabs in the Sokoto Desert. The venom of a scorpion is well known to produce the most intense pain in the world. This African variety has, on several authenticated occasions, caused the death of human beings. \"I will not give the show1 away by telling you now which wins the battle. You can—

THE SENSE OF TOUCH. 627 or make any noise, or you will not be able to hear the insects, and a large part of the illusion will be lost.\" The whispering ceased; but there were slight movements and rustlings which I felt were born of horror and repulsion, and I was sure that many of the girls were trying to curl their feet up on to their seats. I sympathized. I loathe creeping things myself. For a little time nothing happened. The scorpion lay quite still, sunning himself amongst the dust and stones, as magnified, about nine feet away from the collection of twigs. Suddenly he either moved a leg or wriggled, for I saw a pebble slip and heard it rattle. And at that instant one of the thickest of the twigs flipped away from the rest and appeared about two feet from the scorpion. I say \" appeared \" because its motion across the intervening space was too quick to follow. At one moment one of the bunch of twigs, the next it was half standing on end facing the scorpion. with its arms or fore-legs folded in front of it. I then appreciated the name of \"praying mantis.\" It was browny-green in colour, and its appearance was so benign, not to say devout, that it was difficult to believe what the lecturer had said about its true character. Indeed, as opposed to its enemy, the mantis actually attracted sympathy ; it suggested a benign, if foolish, temperament. The scorpion, from being passively repulsive, had changed to an embodiment of venomous malice. It gave the disagreeable impression of a monstrosity or deformity, and yet it was not easy to say exactly to what this was due. Murder was clearly expressed in every line of its body, in the curve of its tail, in the gape of its half- open claws. It was truly horrible, and a child in a front seat wailed out: \" Take it away, mummie ; I don't like it.\" I don't know whether it really was so, or whether my imagination was playing me tricks, but at that instant there seemed to be a glimmer of light round the two insects, and they appeared to turn their heads towards the body of the hall. If this really did hap- pen it was over in the fraction of a second ; but I was more startled than I cared to con- fess to myself, and I rubbed my eyes. I noticed also that a musty smell had now replaced the variegated odours in the hall. It was faint, but distinctly unpleasant. When the film ended, a few moments later, with both insects still on the watch, subdued sighs of relief arose from all parts of the hall. The nut-eater murmured \" Time,\" in an effort at jocularity; but even his tone rang false. One or two sensible women took their children out of the hall. Before the announcement of the next scene was given us the showman's voice again rang out: \" So far the camera has been at some distance from the insects, and their peculiar odour has not been vurry marked. You will now see the combatants at much closer range and will get the full value of the odorator.\"

THE STRAND MAGAZINE. Suddenly the scorpion made a jump, seized one hind-leg of its enemy with its claw, and darted its sting forward. With the quickness of thought the mantis dodged and brought its two thighs together in an endeavour to catch its enemy. But it was too late ; the scorpion had backed just out of reach. As the feet of the beasts scrambled amongst the stones—about the size of my head—it sounded like men scuffling on a beach of large pebbles. Disagreeable as the spectacle was, it was cer- tainly exciting, and I could not take my eyes off the monstrous brutes. They again stood watching. They were still for so long that I was wondering if they had gone to sleep, when I noticed from the absence of any tremor in the picture that the film was not moving. I then heard at the back of the hall the tap- ping of some tool upon metal, and came to the conclusion that one of the spools must have stuck or that something had gone wrong with the projecting mechanism. But it seemed to me somehow that though the film itself was stationary, there was a curious sparkling efflorescence about the outline of the insects. Perhaps the atmosphere was affecting me. The audience got a bit restive, and began to whisper and fidget. The nut-eater ejaculated, \" Time, Archibald ! Blow the whistle, ref!\" and started to eat nuts again. A child in the front cried. Whether it was the same infant that had protested before I don't know. But the woman with it began to dance it up and down. Then it happened ! The sparkle round the outline of the mon- sters in the picture changed all at once to a definite prismatic halo, and -with a crackling noise each insect deliberately turned its head towards the woman and child. Before you could whistle they were out of the picture, scrambling over the little well where the orchestra had previously been playing, f heard horny feet scratching over the polished top of the piano, and a great discordant arpeggio struck on the bass notes. It was all so quick that I'm not sure in what order things occurred. A sort of collective groan arose from the audience, but, paralyzed by the suddennesss of the thing, no one moved. The beasts clambered over the partition, and while the mantis darted up the gangway to the back of the room, the scorpion pounced on the woman with the baby. In the dark I could not see what it did, but shrieks of mortal agony at once drowned the feeble cries of the child. A panic then began, and everyone got up. It was a hopeless situation, for the mantis was near one entrance and the scorpion guarded the other. I could just see the beast seize oa someone in the front row who had shrunk back from it, and then there were more horrible screams. I don't know what would have happened in the dark, but at that instant there was a shout from the American, who at any rate was a brave man:— \"My God! It's happened. Sit still. It's your only chance.\" He then moved to a switch close by and

THE SENSE OF TOUCH. 629 BE.ORB YOU COULD WHISTLE THEY WEKE OUT OK OK TI1K PICTUI-.E.\"

630 THE STRAND MAGAZINE. resistance. He did not accept his fate in dignified silence, nor did he mark the special occasion with any exclamation of despair. He simply put his hands over his head like a small boy about to be cuffed, and, ineffective to the end, whined out to this pitiless armoured monster : \" 'Old 'ard ! 'Ere, 'old 'ard ! \" The scorpion gripped his arms with its claws and stung him on the right side of the neck near the jugular vein twice. I saw the curved sting enter the flesh just above the silk neckerchief, and then come out all covered with blood. The youth shrieked with agony and writhed ; his neck swelled, became bloated and shining; his attitude stiffened, and his head dropped forward. The poor little drab lady must have subsided on to the floor some time before this. There was no sign of her above the back of her chair ; and I was the next person to the scorpion, who still hung on to the body of the nut-eater and rolled his eyes successively round the room. Faint and sick as I felt, a desire for revenge seized me and overcame all other sensations. I noticed something like a pointed mahogany table- leg between the red plush \" flap-up \" of the seat just in front of me and its back. It was one of the brute's legs ! An inspiration struck me. By sacrificing myself I might save perhaps half the roomful of women and children. The mantis could not alone guard two doors. If I did nothing we should all be killed in turn—I being the first. Summoning all my strength, I braced myself in my seat, planted r»y foot firmly against the scorpion's leg, and pressed it with all my force against the edge of the seat. I felt the smooth, shining leg sink into the plush, and for one dreadful instant thought that I hadn't got a grip—that it was going to slip. Thank Heaven, I was wearing my golfing brogues with nails ! The leg moved round slightly beneath my foot, then I felt it grate against the nails, which bit into the flesh, or horn, or whatever it was. I was holding it! I then yelled out: \" All get out of the front door— quick !\" I heard a sort of scrimmage round me. I imagine that the people in front were trying to escape before the mantis could reach them ; but I don't really know what did happen. I was fully employed with my own affairs. Wrenching and tugging at its leg, the scorpion sprawled ove.r the body of the dead youth and seized my left arm in one claw. It was pain- ful, but all my thoughts and energy were so concentrated on keeping up the pressure of my leg that I did not much notice it. As the brute stretched forward it tried to reach me with its sting. Not being able to do so, it made immense efforts toi pull me closer; but, luckily, I had my left afrm twined round the arm of the seat. The strain was awful, and the perspiration poured down my fore- head. Of course, I was in rank bad con- dition. As we struggled my one prayer was that my foot would not slip; that the scor-

THE SENSE OF TOUCH. 631 I LUNGED AT ITS SQUINTING EYES WITH MY UMBRELLA.\"

Tke P Agent. ress AMUSING STORIES or His \\Vays and By HENRY B. HARRIS. [The following article was written by the late Mr. Harris only a short time prior to his death on board the ill-fated \"Titanic.\" Though it deals chiefly with American methods, these do not greatly differ from those employed in this country, except, perhaps, in being even more ingenious and enterprising.] HE Press agent is one of the most useful and one of the most dangerous members of the theatrical family. He can make or break the show. He is useful in the degree in which he can supply news- papers and magazines with good reading- matter. He is dangerous when he gives his imagination licence—without reserve—to create and put forth stories that give a wrong impression of his attraction or of his star. Newspapers always were as much interested in theatrical news or theatrical stories as they were in baseball. There have always been more people attending the theatre than those attending the national game or the horse- races. There were nearly one hundred million pounds spent in the theatres of the States last year. If a theatrical story be a good one, the papers have no more hesitation in using it than in accepting a contribution from a man well known in finance, commerce, or art. The editors realize that their readers are interested in theatres, and are eager to give them theatrical news. In fact, so great is the demand for good copy about the stage that one of my stars received one hundred and sixty thousand pounds' worth of advertising —based on space rates—in a single season. There used to be no check to the imagination and the nerve of the Press agent. His greed for space was unlimited. He's just as greedy to-day. But the \" check \" is in the news- paper office. Quality and character are the test of the story. Here is a sample of the pure nerve that ought to characterize the Press agent. As the story went, a certain actress was booked to appear in a Western city, in opposition to another well-known star. In the space- grabbing rivalry between the advance agents human ingenuity was stretched to a point where it threatened to snap at any moment. The star I refer to was supposed to have adopted an Indian child in a certain town in the far North-West. Some small children were said, while playing on the outskirts of the place, to have entered a deserted cabin,

THE PRESS AGENT. 633 and there, to their horror and amazement, found a body lying on the floor. Help was summoned, the body picked up, and dis- covered to be an Indian squaw who had been dead for several hours. On unwrapping the blanket, a little Indian papoose was found, still living. They—the Press agent—rushed the unfortunate child to a physician, who brought it around all right. Then the actress —in the Press agent's fancy—learning of the affair, immediately took steps to adopt the child. The ingenious Press agent, after landing the story with the editor, was asked if he had a picture of the child. He was nonplussed, but only for a moment. Then he dashed wildly into a shop, got a picture postcard of an Indian papoose, and with it satisfied the editor. Of course the story was continued next day. The telegraph-wires were kept hot between advance agent and company manager, who was instructed to send hourly bulletins as to the condition of the child and the methods to be used by the actress in educating it in the white man's way. Public interest ran high. The date of the arrival of the actress drew near. What now perplexed the Press agent was how either to get an Indian papoose or how to get rid of one. And here is where Uncle Sam was implicated. A story was dashed over the wire that the Department of the Interior had denied the right of the city officials to give the actress the guardian- ship of an Indian child, and that steps were being taken to compel her to turn the papoose over to the Government. Then the defiant message flashed across the wires that the actress would not obey the command of the United States district attorney—that she would lay down her life before she would surrender the child. The next day an article was published, \" Famous Actress Arrested,\" recounting how the arrest of the star and other influences brought to bear upon her had caused her to relinquish her claim to the child. And so the Indian papoose disappeared from the Press agent's mind, and all was serene. Another story was that of an actress who, passing a picture-shop, saw a picture that attracted her attention. On entering the place to inquire the price of the painting, she found the proprietor absent and a porter in charge. This man, being desirous of making a sale and enhancing his own value, sold the picture to the lady at a ridiculously low figure. As a matter of fact, he had mistaken the catalogue number for the sale price. The buyer insisted on paying for the picture and taking it with her in the cab. 'The VoL xliv.-56. next day there appeared in the New York papers an advertisement which stated that the lady who purchased the picture—describ- ing same—at such and such a shop would learn something to her advantage if she immediately sent her name and address to the proprietor. This she did, and the shopkeeper at once began a suit to recover

634 THE STRAND MAGAZINE. of the theatre, restraining it from running their zeal for exploitation. There was a its cars at certain hours on the ground that show on the road that carried an old, decrepit the clanging and banging due to loose rails interfered with the \" wonderfully artistic \" work of the actress, and thus cheated the lion that had no teeth in its head and was fed on mush and chopped meat. This show was booked for a little town, and to attract people who had paid to see her of their attention the Press agent offered a suite of money's worth of art. But there happened .•a \"THK PRESS AGENT OFFERED A SUITE OF FURNITURE TO ANY COUPLE WHO WOULD BE MARRIED IN THK LION'S CAGE.\" to be a law in Illinois against pernicious litigation, and so our friend had to finish up his work from St. Louis. The most imaginative Press agents in the world are connected with the wild-beast shows that \" do \" the summer resorts, but they frequently overreach themselves in furniture that was for sale in one of the shops there to any couple who would be married in the lion's cage, not for a moment expecting anyone to take up the offer. But there were a young man and woman who had already been looking at the furniture before the

THE PRESS AGENT. 635 ?.nnouncement was made, and who agreed to be married in the cage. So the furniture man considered the sale effected ; but the manager of the show knew nothing about this part of the scheme, and in consequence repudiated it. The furniture man attached the show, which, as they did not carry any scenery, consisted solely of the lion and the cage. Another Press agent hired a baby about six months old, giving the parents a few pounds to put him in the doorway of a promi- nent office building. The watchman found the baby, much newspaper talk resulted, and the ladies of the stock company got up a benefit for him. The Press agent was very prominent; his star was going to sell seats by auction for the benefit, and everything went beautifully. But it so happened that the father of the child left work and began hang- ing around every day for money with which to buy liquor. He got into a row with his wife, and that good lady, to compel him to go back to work so that the rest of the family could live, gave the whole story away. Of course, the Press agent was discredited, and the reaction swept away much of the patronage of the show. On another occasion a celebrated prima donna had some diamonds stolen from her by her Press agent. The manager, backed with the company, did not like the story. He and the Press agent were at swords' points, anyway. So he wired to the Chief of Police of a certain city describing the advance man, who was arrested, put in jail, and kept there incomunicado for forty-eight hours. Not long ago a Press agent sought to lay the foundation of a very good story by playing a practical joke on an hotel landlord. There was a little coal-mining town north of Cin- cinnati where a local magnate had built an opera-house. And here the star, having an open dale, agreed to play. The landlord had never had any experience with actors, and had always heard that they were peculiar people, particularly that they drank a different kind of liquor from that usually consumed by the layman. So he asked the advance agent's advice, and was told that the players drank nothing but creme de menthe. Therefore he went to Cincinnati and bought six quarts of the stuff, and put signs all over the house that it might be had at the bar. But not an actor bought a drop of it. The proprietor got mad, consulted a friend who was a justice of the peace, and a writ of attachment was served on the manager for the value of six quarts of creme de menthe. As they were only going to play one night in the town, the bill was settled. But the manager could not see the joke, and when the Press agent got his next salary he found that the price of six quarts of creme de menthe, together with court costs, had been deducted. A young newspaper man in New York, having got a job as Press agent, felt bound to break into print at whatever cost. He brought in a story that a young lady in the

636 THE STRAXD MAGAZINE. husband, simply because she chances to be an actress. In place of the Munchausen and scandal stories we have those of human inte- rest, based on truth, in which the player reveals the intimacy of his home life, his hopes, his fears, his ambitions, or gives his views on the drama. The public is concerned with the story of the actor's struggle to obtain recog- nition, because the great majority of the people are struggling in the same way. They compare his story with their own experience. It offers hope, spurs ambition, renews the resolution to fight again and succeed, and constructs a- bond of sympathy between the player and prospective audiences. The clever newspaper man knows of this sympathy, and the result is that, where five lines are given to an actor's divorce to-day, five hundred are given to his fight to win his spurs. All these stories are part and parcel of a great movement to make the theatre an instrument of good. The fact that editors to-day so rigidly scrutinize every story handed them by the Press agent has compelled the use of other vehicles of exploitation. Therefore the theatre man must use some other way of showing that he has an entertainment of value. His new ally in this field is the postage-stamp. When Augustus Thomas's play, \" The Witching Hour,\" was produced in New York the result was doubtful. One manager after another had turned it down, and the box- office during the first few days seemed to justify their decision. But the Press agent had faith in it. He asked ten prominent New Yorkers to see the play, and then got their opinion of it. They were enthusiastic. He asked them if they would recommend it to their friends. To this they agreed, and from each he obtained the names of ten friends, with permission to use the names of the endorsers. Letters were then addressed to these persons, who were each asked to give more names. An endless chain was formed, and it grew so rapidly .that in a few weeks it was found necessary to cut it short, as the house was sold out for a long time to come. • When I produced Charles Klein's \" Third Dogree \" at the Hudson Theatre I felt at the end of the first act that I had a success ; but the advance sales told a different story. That night I sent ten thousand telegrams, reading as follows, to persons living in New YTork :— \" Do not fail to see Charles Klein's latest play,' The Third Degree,' at Hudson Theatre. Saw it last night, and agree with critics that it is the dramatic sensation of the century.— (Signed) TOM.\" On the envelope containing this message was printed, \" Hudson Wireless.\" Just then wireless telegraphy was beginning to be an institution. Not fifty of the ten thousand persons had ever received a wireless message, and were greatly interested. The telegrams were delivered by regular messenger-boys

THE PRESS AGENT. 63? Then the porter was sent up to put it out. He, of course, thought it was in a box, and when Mme. Petrova pointed to it, lying loose, and said, \" Very well, take him out,\" and it started to crawl towards him, the man has- tened to the office and tendered his resignation, to take effect immediately. The story came to my office, and a newspaper was notified. At the same time, we assured the editor that we thought it was a joke. In less than no Almost every institution in the United States, and, in fact, the Government itself, has followed the lead of the theatre in pub- licity methods. They all have Press agents. If the Standard Oil had had one ten years earlier it would not have been in trouble to-day ; if the American Tobacco Company had had a Press agent earlier in the game, he ' would have had the.anvil muffled long before the big blow fell—and the noise wouldn't have *'OF COURSE, A PYTHON DOES NOT B1TK— BUT IT CAN SQUEEZE A LITTLE. THE FIRST SIGHT OK IT SENT THE HOTEL MAID SHRIEKING FROM THE ROOM.\" time a dozen papers had it. Only one of them regarded it as news. The others treated it as Press agent stuff. But the poor lady was requested by the manager of the hotel to leave, and not another hotel would receive her until she had got rid of the snake and had given a guarantee that she would not smuggle any strange pets into her room. been so loud. There is not a man who goes campaigning for President who doesn't engage a Press agent long before the nominating Convention. The post is a high one, and the \" lead-up \" must be long and gradual. Every woman of prominence in Newport has a Pressman in addition to her business secretary. Many a New York theatre publicity man fills

638 THE STRAND MAGAZINE. such jobs as these during the summer months. Over five hundred are employed by the Government in different departments. But why dwell upon the obvious ? A theatrical firm having a large number of attractions has its Press department in the home office. The business of this is to create interest in the attractions that the firm is sending out in all the towns where they are to play prior to the arrival of the regular advance man, who travels from seven to ten days ahead of the company. For each show a well-defined policy is adopted; each star is \" handled \" in an entirely different way from the others. Every story must interest the local newspaper's dramatic editor sufficiently for him to insert it in his column—must differ wholly from any other that has been printed about play or player. The personality of the actor must be \" played up \" to the limit. Different ones appeal to different elements of theatre-goers. On these the Pressman trains his guns constantly. The Press matter for a farce should be of a comedy nature—humorous stories, little jests, anecdotes about the actors. On the other hand, in heavy drama one may become pedantic or give what is called \" high-brow \" stuff. With the romantic play the romantic side of the actor's life or experiences must be shown up. The proper concomitant for \" The Travelling Salesman \" was stories of commercial travellers, poker experiences, and the like—all served in the best vernacular of the road. Timeliness is a factor here. The Press agent goes into a newspaper office about Christmas-time, and if he has a story, for instance, about a well-known actress having spent that holiday on a snow-bound train, he will find its availability increased tenfold by the circumstance. Naturally a department of such importance is expensive. Mine costs more than fourteen thousand pounds per year. This includes salaries of advance men, which range from ten to forty pounds a week, railroad fares, and a maintenance of the Press department at the home office. The cost of bill-board and window display advertising for one attraction is about thirty pounds a week. We get out a weekly Press sheet that is sent to two thou- sand two hundred and thirty-six dramatic editors in the States. About sixteen hundred pounds annually is spent by this department for photographs of players under contract to me and scenes from plays that I own, and I consider it well invested. The services of three boys are required to paste clippings, the number of these varying from six to eight thousand a week. To make such a department effective one must first of all have the man. I find that the college graduate with newspaper experi- ence makes the best advance man. It is the men from the small colleges that I have found to be the best of all—those who come to the big city and see many things to wonder

Rallying Round Old George By P. G. WODEHOUSE ami H. W. WESTBROOK. Illustrated by Charles Crombie. THINK one of the rummiest affairs I was ever mixed up with in the course of a life- time devoted to butting into other people's business was that affair of George Lattaker at Monte Carlo. I wouldn't bore you, don't you know, for the world, but I think you ought to hear about it. We had come to Monte Carlo on the yacht Circe, belonging to an old sportsman of the name of Marshall. Among those present were myself, my man Voules, a Mrs. Vanderley, her daughter Stella, Mrs. Vanderley's maid Pilbeam, and George. My name is Pepper, by the way—Reggie Pepper. George was a dear old pal of mine. In fact, it was I who had worked him into the party. You see, George was due to meet his Uncle Augustus, who was scheduled, George having just reached his twenty-fifth birthday, to hand over to him a legacy left by one of George's aunts, for which he had been trustee. The aunt had died when George was quite a kid. It was a date that George had been looking forward to ; for, though he had a sort of income, an income, after all, is only an income, whereas a chunk of o'goblins is a pile. George's uncle was in Monte Carlo, and had written George that he would come to London and unbelt; but it struck me that a far better plan was for George to go to his uncle at Monte Carlo instead. Kill two birds with one stone, don't you know. Fix up his affairs and have a pleasant holiday simultaneously. So George had tagged along, and at the time when the trouble started we were anchored in Monaco Harbour, and Uncle Augustus was due next day. Looking back, I may say that, so far as I was mixed up in it, the thing began at seven o'clock in the morning, when I was aroused from a dreamless sleep by the dickens of a scrap in progress outside my state-room door. The chief ingredients were a female voice that sobbed and said, \" Oh, Harold ! \" and a male voice \" raised in anger,\" as they say, which, after considerable difficulty, I iden- tified as Voules's. I hardly recognized it. In his official capacity Voules talks exactly like you'd expect a statue to talk, if it could. In private, however, he evidently relaxed to some extent, and to have that sort of thrng going on in my midst at that hour was too much for me. \" Voules ! \" I yelled. Spion Kop ceased with a jerk. There was silence, then sobs diminishing in the distance, and finally a tap at the door. Voules entered with that impassive, my-lord-the-carriage- waits look which is what I pay him for. You wouldn't have believed he had a drop of any sort of emotion in him. \" Voules,\" I said, \" are you under the delusion that I'm going to be Queen of the May ? You've called me early all right.

640 THE STRAND MAGAZINE. \" I think I'll get up,\" I said. \" Yes, sir.\" \" I can't wait to breakfast with the rest. Can you get me some right away ? \" \" Yes, sir.\" So I had a solitary breakfast and went up on deck to smoke. It was a lovely morning. Blue sea, gleaming Casino, cloudless sky, and all the rest of the hippodrome. Presently the others began to trickle up. Stella Vanderley was one of the first. I thought she looked a bit pale and tired. She said she hadn't slept well. That accounted for it. Unless you get your eight hours, where are you ? \" Seen George ? \" I asked. I couldn't help thinking the name seemed to freeze her a bit. Which was queer, because all the voyage she and George had been particularly close pals. In fact, at any moment I expected George to come to me and slip his little hand in mine and whisper, \" I've done it, old scout; she loves muh ! \" \" I have not seen Mr. Lattaker,\" she said. I didn't pursue the subject. George's stock was apparently low that a.m. The next item in the day's programme occurred a few minutes later, when the morning papers arrived. Mrs. Vanderley opened hers and gave a scream. \" The poor, dear Prince ! \" she said. \" What a shocking thing!\" said old Marshall. \" I knew him in Vienna,\" said Mrs. Vanderley. \" He waltzed divinely.\" Then I got at mine and saw what they were talking about. The paper was full of it. It seemed that late the night before His Serene Highness the Prince of Saxburg- Liegnitz (I always wonder why they call these chaps \" Serene \") had been murderously assaulted in a dark street on his way back from the Casino to his yacht. Apparently he had developed the habit of going about without an escort, and some rough-neck, taking advantage of this, had laid for him and slugged him with considerable vim. The Prince had been found lying pretty well beaten up and insensible in the street by a passing pedestrian, and had been taken back to his yacht, where he still lay unconscious. \" This is going to do somebody no good,\" I said. \" What do you get for slugging a Serene Highness ? I wonder if they'll catch the fellow ? \" \"'Later,'\" read old Marshal. '\"The pedestrian who discovered His Serene High- ness proves to have been Mr. Denman Sturgis, the eminent private investigator. Mr. Sturgis has offered his services to the police, and is understood to be in possession of a most important clue.' That's the fellow who had charge of that kidnapping case in Chicago. If anyone can catch the man, he can.\" About five minutes later, just as the rest of them were going to move off to breakfast,

RALLYING ROUND OLD GEORGE. 641 if you go about touching people on the shoul- der ? My nerves are sticking a yard out of my body this morning. Reggie ! \" \" Yes, old boy ? \" \" I did a murder last night.\" \" What ? \" \" It's the sort of thing that might happen to anybody. Directly Stella Vanderley broke off our engagement I \" \" Broke off your engagement ? How long were you engaged ? \" \" About two minutes. It may have been less. I hadn't a stop-watch. I proposed to her at ten last night in the saloon. She accepted me. I was just going to kiss her when we heard someone coming. I went out. Coming along the corridor was that infernal what's-her-name—Mrs. Vanderley's maid— Pilbeam. Have you ever been accepted by the girl you love, Reggie ? \" \" Never. I've been refused dozens \" \" Then you won't understand how f felt. I was off my head with joy. I hardly knew what I was doing. I just felt I had to kiss the nearest thing handy. I couldn't wait. It might have been the ship's cat. It wasn't. It was Pilbeam.\" \" You kissed her ? \" \" I kissed her. And just at that moment the door of the saloon opened and out came Stella.\" \" Great Scot ! \" \" Exactly what I said. It flashed across me that to Stella, dear girl, not knowing the circumstances, the thing might seem a. little odd. It did. She broke off the engagement, and I got out the dinghy and rowed off. I was mad. I didn't care what became of me. I simply wanted to forget. I went ashore. I It's just on the cards that I may have drowned my sorrows a bit. Anyhow, I don't remember a thing, except that I can recollect having the deuce of a scrap with somebody in a dark street and somebody falling, and myself legging it for all I was worth. I woke up this morning in the Casino gardens. I've lost my hat.\" I dived for the paper. \" Read,\" I said. \" It's all there.\" He read. \" Good heavens ! \" he said. \" You didn't do a thing lo His Serene Nibs, did you ? \" \" Reggie, this is awful.\" \" Cheer up. They say he'll recover.\" \" That doesn't matter.\" \" It does to him.\" He read the paper again. \" It says they've a clue.\" \" They always say that.\" \" But- My hat ! \" \" Eh ? \" \" My hat. I must have dropped it during the scrap. This man, Denman Sturgis, must have found it. It had my name in it ! \" \" George,\" I said, \" you mustn't waste time. Oh ! \" He jumped a foot in the air.

642 THE STRAND MAGAZINE. He retired. I called to George, and he came out. \" Who was it ? \" \" Only Voules. He brought a letter for you. They're all at breakfast still. The sleuth's eating -kippers.\" \" That'll hold him for a bit. Full of bones.\" He began to read his letter. He gave a kind of grunt of surprise at the first paragraph. \" Well, I'm hanged !\" he said, as he \"JUST AT THAT MOMENT THE DOOR OF THE SALOON OPENED AND OUT CAME STELLA.\" finished. \" Reggie, this is a queer thing.\" \" What's that ? \" He handed me the letter, and directly I started in on it I saw why he had grunted. This is how it ran :— \" MY DEAR GEORGE,—I shall be seeing you to-morrow, I hope ; but I think it is better, before we meet, to prepare you for a curious situation that has arisen in con- nection with the legacy which your father inherited from your Aunt Emily, and which you are expecting me, as trustee, to hand over to you, now that you have reached your twenty-fifth birthday. You have doubtless heard your father speak of your twin-brother Alfred, who was lost or kidnapped—which, was never ascertained —when you were both babies. When no news was received of him for so many years, it was supposed that he was dead. Yesterday, however, I received a letter purporting to come from him, in which it was stated that

RALLYING ROUND OLD GEORGE. 643 ' he had been living all this lime in Buenos Ayres as the adopted son of a wealthy South American, and has only recently discovered his identity. He states that he is on his way to meet me, and will arrive any day now. Of course, like other claimants, he may prove to be an impostor, but meanwhile his inter- vention will, I fear, cause a certain delay before I can hand over your money to you. It will be necessary to go into a thorough examination of credentials, etc., and this will take some time. But I will go fully into the

644 THE STRAND MAGAZINE. matter with you when \\vc meet.—Your affectionate uncle, AUGUSTUS ARBUTT.\" I read it through twice, and the second time I had one of those ideas I do sometimes get, though admittedly a chump of the premier class. I have seldom had such a thoroughly corking brain-wave. \" Why, old top,\" I said, \" this let's you out.\" \" Let's me out of half the darned money, if that's what you mean. If this chap's not an impostor—and there's no earthly reason to suppose he is, though I've never heard my father say a word about him—we shall have to split the money. Aunt Emily's will left the money to my father, or, failing him, his ' offspring.' I thought that meant me, but apparently there are a crowd of us. I call it rotten work, springing unexpected offspring on a fellow at the eleventh hour like this.\" \" Why, you chump,\" I said, \" it's going to save you. This lets you out of your spec- tacular dash across the frontier. All you've got to do is to stay here and be your brother Alfred. It came to me in a flash.\" He looked at me in a kind of dazed way. \" You ought to be in some sort of a home, Reggie.\" \" Ass ! \" I cried. \" Don't you under- stand ? Have you ever heard of twin- brothers who weren't exactly alike ? Who's to say you aren't Alfred if you swear you are ? Your uncle will be there to back you up that you have a brother Alfred.\" \" And Alfred will be there to call me a liar.\" \" He won't. It's not as if you had to keep it up for the rest of your life. It's only for an hour or two, till we can get this detective off the yacht. We sail for England to-morrow morning.\" At last the thing seemed to sink into him. His face brightened. \" Why, I really do believe it would work,\" he said. •\" Of course it would work. If they want proof, show them your mole. I'll swear George hadn't one.\" \" And as Alfred I should get a chance of talking to Stella and making things all right for George. Reggie, old top, you're a genius.\" \" No, no.\" \" You are.\" \" Well, it's only sometimes. I can't keep it up.\" And just then there was a gentle cough1 behind us. We spun round. \" What the devil are you doing here, Voules ? \" I said. \" I beg your pardon, sir. I have heard all.\" I looked at George. George looked at me. \" Voules is all right,\" I said. \" Decent Voules ! Voules wouldn't give us away,

RALLYING ROUND OLD GEORGE. 645 but weren't quite certain where it was. I of identification, there would be one way 01 introduced him, and still they looked doubtful, distinguishing us. Do you know George well, \" Mr. Pepper tells me my brother is not Mr. Pepper ? \" en board,\" said George. \" He's a dear old pal of mine.\" \"ALL YOU'VE GOT TO uo is TO STAY HKRB ANU UK YOUR BROI-HKR ALFRED.•• <; It's an amazing likeness,\" said old \" You've been swimming with him. Marshall. perhaps ? \" \" Is my brother like me ? \" asked George, \" Every day last August.\" amiably. \" Well, then, you would have noticed it \" No one could tell you apart,\" I said. if he had had a mole like this on the back of \" I suppose twins always are alike,'' said his neck, wouldn't you ? \" George. \" But if it ever came to a question He turned his back and stooped and showed

646 THE STRAND MAGAZINE. the mole. His collar hid it at ordinary times. I had seen it often when we were bathing together. \" Has George a mole like that ? \" he asked. \" No,\" I said. \" Oh, no.\" \" You would have noticed it if he had ? \" \" Yes,\" I said. \" Oh, yes.\" \" I'm glad of that,\" said George. \" It would be a nuisance not to be able to prove one's own identity.\" That seemed to satisfy them all. They couldn't get away from it. It seemed to me that from now on the thing was a walk-over. And I think George felt the same, for, when old Marshall asked him if he had had breakfast, he said he had not, went below, and pitched in as if he hadn't a care in the world. Everything went right till lunch-time. George sat in the shade on the fore-deck talking to Stella most of the time. When the gong went and the rest had started to go below, he drew me back. He was beaming. \" It's all right,\" he said. \" What did I tell you ? \" \" What did you tell me ? \" \"Why, about Stella. Didn't I say that Alfred would fix things for George ? I told her she looked worried, and got her to tell me what the trouble was. And then \" \" You must have shown a flash of speed if you got her to confide in you after knowing you for about two hours.\" \" Perhaps I did,\" said George, modestly. \" I had no notion, till I became him, what a persuasive sort of chap my brother Alfred was. Anyway, she told me all about it, and I started in to show her that George was a pretty good sort of fellow on the whole, who oughtn't to be turned down for what was evidently merely temporary insanity. She saw my point.\" \" And it's all right ? \" \" Absolutely, if only we can produce George. How much longer does that infernal sleuth intend to stay here ? He seems to have taken root.\" \" I fancy he thinks that you're bound to come back sooner or later, and is waiting for you.\" \" He's an absolute nuisance,\" said George. We were moving towards the companion- way, to go below for lunch, when a boat hailed us. We went to the side and looked over. \" It's my uncle,\" said George. A stout man came up the gangway. \"Halloa, George!\" he said. \"Get my letter ? \" \" I think you are mistaking me for my brother,\" said George. \" My name is Alfred Lattaker.\" \" What's that ? \" . \" I am George's brother Alfred. Are you my Uncle Augustus ? \" The stout man stared at him. You're very like George,\" he said. So everyone tells me.\" And you're really Alfred ? \"

RALLYING ROUND OLD GEORGE. 6-17 I found George on the fore-deck. What is it Shakespeare or somebody says about some fellow's face being sicklied o'er with the pale cast of care ? George's was like that. He looked green. \" Finished with your uncle ? \" I said. He grinned a ghostly grin. \" There isn't any uncle,\" he said. \" There isn't any Alfred. And there isn't any money.\" \" Explain yourself, old top,\" I said. \" It won't take long. The old crook has spent every penny of the trust money. He's been at it for years, ever since I was a kid. When the time came to cough up, and I was due to see that he did it, he went to the tables in the hope of a run of luck, and lost the last remnant of the stuff. He had to find a way of holding me for a while and postponing the squaring of accounts while he got away, and he invented this twin-brother business. He knew I should find out sooner or later, but meanwhile he would be able to get off to South America, which he has done. He's on his way now.\" \" You let him go ? \" \" What could I do ? I can't afford to make a fuss with that man Sturgis around. I can't prove there's no Alfred, when my only chance of avoiding prison is to be Alfred.\" \" Well, you've made things right for your- self with Stella Vanderley, anyway,\" I said, to cheer him up. \" What's the good of that now ? I've hardly any money and no prospects. How can I marry her ? \" I pondered. \" It looks to me, old top,\" I said at last, \" as if things were in a bit of a mess.\" \" You've guessed it,\" said poor old George. I spent the afternoon musing on Life. If you come to think of it, what a queer thing Life is ! So unlike anything else, don't you know, if you see what I mean. At any moment you may be strolling peacefully along, and all the time Life's waiting around the corner to fetch you one. You can't tell when you may be going to get it. It's all dashed puzzling. Here was poor old George, as well-meaning a fellow as ever stepped, getting swatted all over the ring by the hand of Fate. Why ? That's what I asked myself. Just Life, don't you know. That's all there was about it. It was close on six o'clock when our third visitor of the day arrived. We were sitting on the after-deck in the cool of the evening —old Marshall, Denman Sturgis, Mrs. Van- derley, Stella, George, and I—when he came up. We had been talking of George, and old Marshall was suggesting the advisability of sending out search-parties. He was worried. So was Stella Vanderley. So, for that matter, were George and I, only not for the same reason. We were just arguing the thing out when the visitor appeared. He was a well-built,

648 THE STRAND MAGAZINE. The Count clicked his tongue regretfully. \" I am sorry,\" he said. George didn't offer to console him. \" Don't worry,\" said Sturgis. \" He won't escape me. I shall find him.'7 \" Do, Mr. Sturgis. do. And quickly. Find swiftly that noble young man.\" \" What ? \" shouted George. \" That noble young man, George Lattaker, who, at the risk of his life, saved my high- born master from the assassin.\" George sat down suddenly. \" I don't understand,\" he said, feebly. \" We were wrong, Mr. Sturgis,\" went on the Count. \" We leaped to the conclusion —was it not so ?—that the owner of the hat you found was also the assailant of my high- born master. We were wrong. I have heard the story from His Serene Highness's own lips. He was passing down a dark street when a ruffian in a mask sprang out upon him. Doubtless he had been followed from the Casino, where he had been winning heavily. My high-born master was taken by surprise. He was felled. But before he lost conscious- ness he perceived a young man in evening dress, wearing the hat you found, running swiftly towards him. The hero engaged the assassin in combat, and my high-born master remembers no more. His Serene Highness asks repeatedly, ' Where is my brave pre- server ? ' His gratitude is princely. He seeks for this young man to reward him. Ah, you should be proud of your brother, sir ! \" \" Thanks,\" said George, limply. \" And you, Mr. Sturgis, you must redouble your efforts. You must search the land ; you must scour the sea to find George Lattaker.\" \" He needn't take all that trouble,\" said a voice from the gangway. It was Voules. His face was flushed, his hat was on the back of his head, and he was smoking a fat cigar. \" I'll tell you where to find George Lattaker ! \" he shouted. He glared at George, who was staring at him. \" Yes, look at me,\" he yelled. \" Look at me. You won't be the first this hafternoon who's stared at the mysterious stranger who won for two hours without a break. I'll be even with you now, Mr. Blooming Lattaker. I'll learn you to break a poor man's heart. Mr. Marshall and gents, this morning I was on deck, and I over'eard 'im plotting to put up a game on you. They'd spotted that gent there as a detective, and they arranged that blooming Lattaker was to pass himself off as his own twin-brother. And if you wanted proof, blooming Pepper tells him to show them his mole and he'd swear George hadn't one. Those were his very words. That man there is George Lattaker, Hesquire, and let him deny it if he can.\" George got up. \" I haven't the least desire to deny it,

RALLYING ROUND OLD GEORGE, 649 \"IT WAS VOUI.KS. HIS FACE WAS FLUSHED, HIS HAT WAS ON THE BACK OF HIS HEAD, AND HE WAS SMOKING A FAT CIUAR.\" wants to kiss the nearest thing in sight, as you put it.\" \" Don't you ? \" said George. \" Well, as it happens, I'm feeling just that way now.\" I coughed, and he turned round. \" Halloa, Reggie ! \" he said. \" Halloa, George ! \" I said. \" Lovely night.\" \" Beautiful,\" said Stella. \" The moon,\" I said. \" Ripping,\" said George. \" Lovely,\" said Stella. \" And look at the reflection of the stars on the— George caught my eye. \" Pop off,\" he said. I popped. Vol. xliv.—57.

uman M usic. A NEW METHOD OF TEACHING CHILDREN MUSIC. \\Vritten ana Illustrated by C. J. L. Clarke. A LITTLE SCHOLAR PLACING A SIGN ON THE RIGHT LINE. Prom a Photograph. URELY our systems of musical education are in need of improvement. The ordinary method of teaching occurs to me as the most likely thing to kill the love of music in all save a few, because the drudgery and the surroundings savour so much of the mechanical, so little of the ideal. Now, if we could avoid much of this and impress upon the minds of youngsters the all-necessary details without irksome routine and in a congenial way, we not only awaken their appreciation of music, but we enable them to learn so that they will never forget. \" Human music \" is an idea which occurred to me as accomplishing this, and I think that it has much to recommend it as an educa- tional system, because it offers an excellent training for several qualities which go far to improve the people of a nation. At the Kindergarten School kept by Mrs. Puckle at Beckenham the system has had a thorough trial, and the whole-hearted interest which the little boys and girls display in \" learning music,\" and the rapidity with which they grasp the value and tone of notes, their positions on the stave, and every detail, have surprised everyone. There are other advantages which are offered by the system which must not be overlooked in considering it as a scheme for education, and these will no doubt be recognized if I develop \" human music \" to my readers. The apparatus required is little and simple. A stave which is large enough to allow the feet of the children to be clearly placed between the lines can be ruled out on cloth, marked on a spacious schoolroom floor, or reproduced with the aid of a lawn-tennis marker on the lawn without any difficulty. As far as possible our \" human music \" should be played in the open air, for not only do the growing bodies of the children benefit most, but the open sky and the charm of leafy trees and budding flowers are the most fit accompaniments to develop the latent music which is in all young things. All else that is required are a set of variable cubes, giant notes, and signs cut out of cardboard, or, preferably, of some harder and more permanent material, and some large-lettered cards to name the notes. In place of the tedious repetition of the names of the notes, which takes children some time to commit to memory, the pupils

\"HUMAN MUSIC.\" 651 are provided with a note and the letter repre- senting it whe.i placed in position on the stave. The child selected to be \" E,\" the first line in the treble, marches on to the space above the stave and, placing his note on the first line, stands up holding the letter \" E \" so that the rest of the class can see it. In a similar way the second, third, fourth, and fifth lines are represented, until the class have the lines in the treble with the notes placed in the proper position and the letters naming the notes held up in full view. In the same takes up a stand behind heaps of bricks divided into the proper number of columns they grasp very quickly that a demisemi- quaver, with its heap of thirty-two blocks, is of the same duration as the full semibrevek All those who cannot become actual notes can observe the time of the notes displayed before them in a picture which they never forget. The making of a human scale is great fun for the children ; one by one they are selected, and, being given a note, are made to sing it, afterwards going on to the stave and standing CHlLURbN NAMING SPACES IN THE 1RKBLE. tfrvin a Photograph. way the spaces are shown, and once a child has' been \" F,\" the first space, or \" E,\" the fourth space, it is never forgotten, while the whole class have this rudimentary knowledge impressed upon the memory by the demon- stration. It is wonderful how soon the children remember the names of the notes, unconsciously learning without difficulty the recognized positions of each. The relative value of notes is a detail which takes a considerable time to fix on the ordi- nary child's mind, but they make light work of learning and remembering that the open note, a semibreve, is the value of a large cube when they have actually held the note and taken position behind a large square of bricks denoting the whole note, while as each child on the line or in the space which they repre- sent until the scale is complete. Then, at the direction of the mistress, the whole scale can be sung note after note by the children. It is really surprising how rapidly they pro- gress from a weak little endeavour to produce the right tone to a confident and full-voiced sound which, in ordinary circumstances, it would be impossible to get a child to sing. This is another point in the system which is a distinct benefit. A little \" human note \" is quite unknowingly acquiring confidence and control of the voice, and the eagerness with which the children strive to be included in each part of the education is sufficient evidence that the natural nervousness of childhood has disappeared.

THE STRAND MAGAZINE. TEACHING THE VALUE OF NOTES BV USE OF BRICKS. J-Vom a Photograph. Children love movement, and, properly directed, the exercise of the body, especially when practised out of doors or in a class- room with open windows and doors, not only aids the health of the little ones, but can be used to produce grace and ease of movement, which will be a delightful asset in after years. The scale of \" human notes,\" who at first have not sufficient con- trol of the balance to place the notes on the floor except by dropping on the knee, rapidly advance until, from a stretching position, with the notes held high above the head, they can, with a graceful sweep, bring the notes down on to their proper position, an exercise which is as pleasing to the onlooker as it is excellent for the children. Counting time is another item which, taught by a swinging pendulum, enables the class to swing their arms in unison, giving an impres- sion which never gets confused, because, whenever timing is necessary, the \" mind's eye \" of the child conjures up again the happy scene and can follow the long - past timing faithfully. Then there is the placing of the signature on the staves, and the marking of the time. The understanding of all such points loses its cold aspect of work and becomes part of an instructive game \\vhen, after the mistress has explained the meaning of the sign, a selected child carries it to its position and in its own language tells the other little ones, in a clear voice, full of confidence, exactly what it has just learned. To be useful, an educational system must be flexible, so that any number can take part, and the need of this can be seen when the \" human notes \" are brought into use to play some simple air. Ten children can sing a piece with a hundred notes by passing on and off the staves, each time singing a note and leaving the large representation in its proper place on the stave. Learning though they are, they have all the joy of an interesting round game, and so engrossed do the children become that they would spend hours without any signs of fatigue. When all the notes have been placed, the children, drawn up in a class at the bottom of the staves and facing the mistress, who THE MAKING OF A HUMAN SCALE. from a Photograph.