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

Portraits of Celebrities at Different Ages. ARNOLD BENNETT. IT is our special pleasure to include a series of portraits of Arnold Bennett in our gallery of \" Celebrities at Different Ages \" in the same num- ber in which we publish the first of a series of essays by him which our readers will find delightful read- ing. It is, of course, chiefly as a writer of fic- tion that Arnold Bennett is known to the public, but there are many who find his essays, published under the title \" How to Live on Twenty-Four Hours a Day.\" \" The Human Machine,\" and other volumes of the kind, quite as full of in- terest as his stories of the Five Towns, showing, as they do, the same qualities of good sense, keen humour, and knowledge of human nature. Of his work in this line the essays which we are about to present to our readers are capital exam- ples. The two essays under the title, \" The Case of the Plain Man,\" of which the first appears in this number, will be followed by others in due course. Arnold Bennett was born in 1867 at Hanley, one of the Five Towns which his books have made as familiar to everv Vol. xiiv.-ee. I'kaU,. 6|fl AliE ABOUT 20. H. Hilt reader as if he were himself a native of that somewhat grey and smoky region. His father was a solicitor, and after receiv- ing his education at the Newcastle Middle School, young Bennett was destined for

754 THE STRA.\\D MAGAZINE. until, at the present da}', there are few authors who appeal to a wider circle of readers on both sides of the Atlantic. We have spoken of his work as being that of a student of real life, but there is also in him a fantastic vein which has found expression in ex- travaganzas such as \" The Grand Babylon Hotel \" and \" The City \"of Pleasure.\" He has also ventured into the world of the Stage, as. indeed, it is hardly neces- sary to remind the reader at the time when one of his plays, \" Milestones \"—written in collaboration with Edward Knoblauch—is proving one of the biggest theatrical successes for many years past. Of recent years Arnold Bennett has resided much in France, where he married a French lady. In his brief biography in \" Who's Who \" appears the statement, \" Recreations none.\" This is an assertion which need not be taken too seriously. Probably it means no more than that he does not happen to take much interest in such things as bridge or golf The statement might well have run, \" Recreations— talking, thinking, writing, and studying life and human nature.\" A career of the kind of Arnold Bennett's is in itself a romance. Like many thousands of other youths, he early planned out his career and set himself with all his efforts to attain the height of his ambition. But, unlike the vast majority of these aspirants, his plans were crowned with a success of which it is probable he never dreamed. The fact is, Arnold Bennett is one of those rare beings who are possessed of gifts which make them rise in life as surely as a cork in water. He went out into the world of free adventure, where so many lose their lives and whence so few return without a scar, and came back laden with a wealth of trophies. PRKMJNT DAY. Phoitf. copyright Pirie Matltoitald. A'ne Kort ll'e hare much pleasure in statin* that tcv shall publish in an ec.ily number Afr. Amohi titnndt's \" Jftminisfeiiies,\" «'///<// he ha* written tpttiaHy for \" The Strand Magazine.\"

AN IMPOSSIBLE PERSON. By W. B. MAXWELL. Illustrated by Gilbert Holiday. SING the cant phrase, people often said that General Sir John Beckford was a quite impossible person. A brave soldier, a true gentleman, a splendid creature physically— just so, but rendering himself absurd and futile by notions so old-fashioned that they had been universally exploded before he was born. A man who obstinately refused to move with the times, who in manner, costume, and every idea belonged, and seemed proud to belong, to the past. Even his own relatives admitted the impos- sibility of him when, at the age of sixty, he gave effect to the most old-fashioned of all conceivable notions by marrying for love. If an elderly widower with a little son of nine wants somebody to make a home and help to rear the child, he should invite some middle- aged female cousin to come to his assistance; but if he wants a charming, attractive girl to renounce the joys and hopes of youth in order to soothe and gladden his dull remnant of years—well, he oughtn't to want it, and really it is not quite nice when he does. Lady Jane Armitage, an ancient aunt, put this thought into very plain words and forced Sir John to listen to them. A mistake—not even a fair bargain. What is Cynthia to get, on her side ? A seat in a carriage, a liberal dress allowance, perhaps a few more loose sovereigns than she has been accus- tomed to carry in that silly little gold purse of hers! \" The idea of money,\" said Sir John, gruffly, \" has never entered Cynthia's head.\" \" Perhaps not. But what else can you offer her ? To hold your landing-net while you do your stupid fishing ; to perform the duties of a nursery governess for Jack ; to enjoy the privilege of playing hostess when you entertain half-a-dozen other generals and their frumpish wives ! \" Copyright, 1912, Sir John echoed his aunt's last adjective ironically. \" Yes,\" said Lady Jane, \" but I'm different. I know I'm a frump, and your friends aren't aware of their misfortune. No, John, I tell you frankly, it isn't a fair bargain.\" Sir John bit his grey moustache, ran a strong hand through his shock of grey hair, contracted his heavy brows, and then laughed and shrugged his shoulders. \" Inexplicable to you, eh, Aunt Jane ? Well, let's leave it at that. But be kind to Cynthia all the same, won't you ? Save her from the other frumps,\" and, ceasing to laugh, he stared at Lady Jane almost fiercely. He was one of those men who consider it beneath their dignity to betray tender emotion, and who perhaps look sternest and most forbidding when they are feeling un- usually soft and gentle. At any rate, he would not explain to his aunt that he believed

756 THE STRAND MAGAZINE. the public school, of the engaging of a holiday tutor, of all the care, devotion, and fore- thought with which the little man was being launched from the home circle ; but she did not approve of the fact that Sir John had thrown the whole burden on Cynthia's slender shoulders, while he did his stupid salmon- fishing four hundred miles away in Scotland. Not quite fair to Cynthia—leaving her all alone with a schoolboy and his tutor. Lady Jane, at considerable inconvenience, ran down to Devonshire to cheer and enliven her. Came back to London and at worse incon- venience stayed there, so as to be handy to act as companion, chaperon, advisory ally, whenever Cynthia wanted her. But Cynthia wanted her scarcely at all, and allowed poor Lady Jane to perceive at last that uninvited companions are some- times a tedium rather than a solace. It was the last night of the holidays. To-morrow Master Jack and his tutor would disappear from Victoria Street. Dinner had been ordered at an early hour, and Jack was scampering through his meal with excited swiftness. One last treat had been arranged for him. He was to be dispatched to a theatre presently in charge of George, the footman. \" I wish you were coming,\" said Jack, and as he turned to Mr. Ridsdale his eyes expressed eloquently enough the hero-worship that is so easy to kindle in young and ingenuous hearts. \" It would be scarcely polite,\" said Mr. Kidsdale, \" for both of us to desert Lady Beckford.\" \" No,\" said Jack ; \" but I wish she'd come with us,\" and he turned to his stepmother. \" Won't you change your mind ? \" \" I really don't feel up to it, Jack. I'm tired—I've had a headache since the day before yesterday.\" \" It might drive the headache away,\" said Jack, eagerly. \" They say it's a tip-top piece.\" His stepmother and his tutor both smiled as they looked at his bright and animated face. Lady Beckford's smile was simply affection- ate ; Mr. Ridsdale's was indulgent and patronizing. \" A rousing melodrama, Jack ! All noise and stamping.\" \" Yes,\" cried Jack, enthusiastically. \" Mur- der and sudden death—just what I like.\" \" But not,\" said Mr. Ridsdale, \" exactly indicated as a cure for a headache.\" \" Well, if I can't persuade you— \" and Jack turned to Yates, the butler. \" Has George changed his things ? \" \" Yes, sir.\" \" Then I'll be off.\" Jack pushed his plate away with a gesture that elegant Mr. Ridsdile could not approve of. It was too childish for a boy of fourteen—a little more polish required, in spite of so much polishing. \" Good night,\" and Jack kissed Lady Beck- ford. \" I sha'n't say good night to you, Mr. Ridsdale, because you won't have turned in before I get back, will you ? \"

AN IMPOSSIBLE PERSON. 757 'I ADMIRE VOU IN THAT MOKK THAN IN ANY OF THE OTHKRS,' HE SAID, SOFTLY.\" existence, rows of handsomely-bound books behind latticed glass : altogether what would be described in stage language as a charming interior. Any tutor, accustomed to the hard seats and coarse fare of a school hall, might feel regret at leaving such a room irrevocably, and might long afterwards yearn to see again the pretty things that it contained. But just now Mr. Ridsdale was looking only at his hostess, and he repeated the compliment about her dress. \" I admire you in that more than in any of the others,\" he said, softly, and rather sorrowfully. \" Because it is black, I suppose. It's quite old. But men always like black dresses. My husband does.\" The dress was made of velvet, with some silver decoration across the front of the bodice, and it certainly appeared becoming. In it Cynthia Beckforcl looked very slim and young ; fair-haired, but dark-eyed, naturally pale, but with a rapid flicker of colour ; a person of frank, kind outlook, a simple and truthful sort of person, and yet with under-

758 THE STRAND MAGAZINE. lying depths of character or sensibility that proved astoundingly interesting to the few people who had studied her closely. French- men would describe her beauty, such as it was, as belonging to the order that slowly troubles rather than quickly fascinates. \" But I'm not like the General,\" said Mr. Ridsdale. \" I admire that black dress, not any black dress.\" He said it with a perceptible insistence, quietly but obstinately ; as if conscious of subtle values in his own taste, and unwilling that it should be confounded with the ordinary likes and dislikes of another person —even though that person were as worthy and respectable as his temporary employer. Mr. Ridsdale was a good-looking man of thirty, tall and thin, of easy carriage and elegant manners. Boys, big and small, among whom he had passed the better part of his life, always looked up to him, and some- times adored him, as a perfect type of school- trained manhood ; and girls, too, were fre- quently subjugated by his charms. He was the sort of man who is not as a rule dreaded by other men as likely to prove a dangerous rival; and yet one might well suppose that in certain circumstances he would be dan- gerous — for instance, if paying slow and unhindered court to a foolish and otherwise neglected woman. The dark eyes, the smooth, silky voice, the insidious flattery of its softening tones, might all be effective in a protracted attack on feminine foolishness of a certain age. \" To-morrow,\" he said, dreamily ; \" to- morrow—almost to-day,\" and he sighed as he took a peach from the gold basket. Yates, the butler, had put cigarettes and matches on the table, and was about to leave the room, when the outer bell rang shrilly and sharply. \" Who can that be ? \" said Ridsdale, look- ing up. \" A visitor ! Oh, do tell him to say you're not at home.\" The butler paused, waiting for instruc- tions. \" It can't be a visitor,\" said Cynthia Beckford. \" Some tradesman's messenger! \" \" It may be old Lady Jane.\" \" She wouldn't come so late as this.\" \" I don't know,\" said Ridsdale, eagerly. \" She comes at all hours. With your head- ache she would bore you to death.\" He leaned forward in his chair and spoke very softly. \" And, remember, my last evening ! You—you promised that you would play to me.\" Cynthia Beckford hesitated a moment, and then told the butler that she was not at home. \" Yes, my lady. Not at home to any- body ? \" \"No.\" The flicker of colour showed in her pale cheeks as she added explanatorily to Ridsdale, \" It can't be anybody of importance.\" Mr. Ridsdale sat listening. Then he got up.

AN IMPOSSIBLE PERSON. 759 \" I can't call it dinner,\" and he laughed good-humouredly. \" But nothing more, thank you—unless perhaps a biscuit and a whisky and soda. Now, sit ye down. Don't let me disturb you. Go on with your dessert, Ridsdale—and then I'll join you in a cigarette, if my lady permits us,\" and he bowed to his wife with the antiquated air of courtesy that always seems so odd in these free-and-easy times. They sat together, talking of Jack's health, his progress, his future career, and Mr. Ridsdale was able to speak most favourably of his pupil's prospects. \" Capital,\" said the General. \" I'm enor- mously indebted to you, Ridsdale. You seem to have done wonders. But I knew you would ; I knew the boy was in good hands Seen much of Aunt Jane ? \" he asked his wife, abruptly. \" Yes.\" Cynthia was looking at the painted decoration on her dessert-plate, and she answered slowly. \"Yes; Aunt Jane was with us at Lynton for a fortnight—quite a fortnight.\" \" I know ; but I mean after that. She is in London,-isn't she ? \" Then Cynthia smilingly confessed that the long fortnight in Devonshire had exhausted the attraction of Lady Jane's society, and that she had lately avoided it. \" She is too kind for words, but \"—Cynthia looked at her husband deprecatingly—\" dear Aunt Jane can be rather boring.\" The General laughed tolerantly. \" Ah, no companion for you. She belongs to another generation.\" His bushy eyebrows contracted and his voice became grave. \" My generation. We old folk are poor companions.\" \" She doesn't belong to your generation.\" Cynthia flushed, and her lips trembled. She put out her hand and laid it on her husband's arm. \" You are the best of companions—a companion that I have missed dreadfully.\" \"There!\" General Beckford laughed gaily. \" Did you hear that, Ridsdale ? That's the sort of thing we old chaps like— even if we aren't vain enough to think we deserve it. Leave that where it is, Yates.\" Yates was about to remove the hand-bag and take it to his master's room. \" Very good, Sir John.\"' \" And you can go to Euston now—no hurry. Take a bus.\" \" Yes, Sir John.\" \" Smoking permitted ? \" And the General bowed again to his wife. \" Light your cigarette, Ridsdale. No, I mustn't have any coffee on top of whisky and scd.a,\" The little group at the table sat comfortably enough and talked lightly and easily. But somehow the presence of General Beckford had destroyed the graceful charm of the room. He looked too big, too rough and shaggy for his delicately pretty surroundings. His grey hair was rumpled and unbrushed after the journey; his coarse grey suit suggested wild moorlands and brawling streams ; his

760 THE STRAND MAGAZINE. But the General would not let him go. \" No, no,\" he said. \" Sit ye down, my dear fellow.'' Then to his wife : \" If the headache isn't too bad, play something this evening. Run over your latest studies. Ridsdale and I will follow you directly.\" Cynthia Beckford rose obediently and turned towards the drawing-room door. Her husband reached the door before Mr. Ridsdale could get to it, and he held it open for her, bowing low as she passed out. \" There ! \" He had switched on the light in the other room, and he stood in the door- way watching her. \" Now delight our ears with your deft touch.\" Lady Beckford seated herself at the piano and began to play a plaintive and dreamy prelude by Bach. \" Beautiful! Your hand has not lost its cunning. Now go on playing—and don't think me ungallant if for a few minutes I close the door. A word or two with Ridsdale —on business. But we shall hear you, even through the door.\" Then he gently, and as if regretfully, shut the drawing-room door and came back to the table. \" Ridsdale \"—and there was an apologetic tone in the General's lowered voice—\" that wasn't quite honest of me. A ruse ! Tasked her to play the piano because I didn't want her to disturb us—and I didn't want her to hear what we were saying.\" \"Oh, really?\" Ridsdale smiled, and glanced at the closed door. \" A confidence ! I may trust vou, mayn't I ?\" \" Of course.\" \" Implicitly, eh ? But that goes without saying. I have trusted you so greatly already, haven't I ? The boy—to consign him to your guidance. Well, you know what he is to me. I couldn't have better shown the faith I had in you \" \" You're very kind. General. I—I've done my best with him.\" \" Exactly. But—well, this isn't about the boy. It's about myself. I am in trouble.\" \" Really ? \" \" I wasn't honest, either, in my explana- tion of why I came hurrying home. No, Ridsdale, it wasn't a sudden caprice. I had serious reasons for coming.\" \" Oh, had you ? \" \" Yes. I am in great trouble.\" And the General looked at Ridsdale keenly, as if seeking in his impassive face some expression of sympathy or encouragement; then he dropped his eyes and paused before he con- tinued speaking. \" I wonder if I ought to tell you ? Yes, I will. You are one of our- selves. We have made you one of ourselves— something more than an acquaintance — a friend, eh ? Yes, I'll tell you the whole thing.\" \" I am all attention.\" \" Thank you.\" From the other room came the sound of Cynthia's plaintive melody, and, half-con- sciously listening to it, the General seemed

AN IMPOSSIBLE PERSON. 761 \" Indeed, no—I know that well.\" has shown it plainly. In fact, that is why I \" Regard—and more than regard—entered went away—not to give myself, but to give into it. But there was the difference of years, her, a holiday.\" At my age one has not the adaptability of \" My good sir,\" said Mr. Ridsdale, earnestly, \" HtR HUSBAND REACHED THE DOOR IIEFOKK MR. RIDbliALK COULD LiKT TO IT, AND HE HELD IT OPEN FOR HKR.\" youth ; one cannot change one's ways, even if one wishes to. So I foresaw that with marriages of that sort a crisis sooner or later comes. Well, our crisis has come.\" \" I—I am sure you are mistaken.\" \" You heard what she said about Lady Jane boring her. Well, / bore her. Recently she VoL xliv.-67. almost irritably, \" I can assure you she has spoken of you every day in the most affectionate terms — regretting your absence, saying how she missed you, and so on.\" \" Has she ? \" said the General, with a sigh. \" That may have been from a sense of duty

762 THE STRAND MAGAZINE. —contrition—remorse. Pity for the old fogey whose presence could but weary her.\" He got up. went to the drawing-room door, and opened it. \" Thank you, Cynthia. Charming ! Don't stop playing. Please go on,\" and he shut the door again. Ridsdale, rising from the table also, had gone to the fireplace. He pulled out a cambric handkerchief, and rubbed the palms of his hands with it. Then he put his hands in his pockets, and, standing with his back to the fire, turned towards the General, politely attentive to, if not cordially sympa- thetic with, the General's doubts and fears. \" Now, look here, Ridsdale. that's all about it. I've given you the facts, and I ask you to help me.\" \" Delighted. But how could I pos- sibly^—\" \" Help me to find the man.\" \" Why, I don't believe he exists.\" \" Oh, yes, he does.\" \" Did your friend give you no hints—of any kind ? \" \" None whatever.\" \" Ah, just what I thought ! Believe me, it's some ridiculous misapprehension.\" \" No; my informant is not a fool, or a person who supposes that I am lightly to be trifled with.\" The General's manner had changed again. The sadness had gone from his eyes and the wistfulness from his voice. Pride was the note that sounded now in the carefully- suppressed voice. He squared his big shoul- ders, threw back his massive head, and, indeed, looked somebody who would be extremely unlikely to be trifled with, either by chance acquaintances or old friends. \" I am a soldier, and I think as soldiers used to think in the bygone days, when we were taught that we ought to harden our thoughts until they become as undeviating as instincts. If I'm called upon to guard and defend something placed in my charge, the thought of what to do is an instinct—to go out and meet the danger half-way. The safest method of defence is to deal promptly with the enemy that threatens. Now, where is the enemy ? Help me if you can. His name has been withheld from me—for obvious reasons \"—and the General snorted scorn- fully. \" I am advised to be moderate, to avoid a scandal. It was a woman who wrote to me. It was Lady Jane \"—and he gave another snort. \" She didn't want to make mischief—as she calls it—and she implores me not to be old-fashioned. But I am old- fashioned—I'm not ashamed of it either—so old-fashioned that when 1 have found my man I shall force him to give me satisfaction.\"' \" A duel ? \" \" Yes.\" Mr. Ridsdale laughed deprecatingly. \" That's all very well ; but, really, Sir John, you can't put back the clock quite so far as that. This is 1912, not 1812, you know.\"

AN IMPOSSIBLE PERSON. 763 \" Ridsdale, so surely as I stand here, I'll find that man, and compel him to satisfy me.\" Ridsdale drew out the cambric handker- chief and passed it across his forehead. Then he laughed lightly. \" General, please forgive me for laughing. But really when #hyone is so carried away by excitement—well, you yourself will laugh to-morrow when you remember the wild things you have said in your excitement.\" \" You think that the fellow perhaps isn't a gentleman, and that he may try to refuse ? \" \" I think that, whether he is a gentleman or not, he will certainly refuse to break the law of the land at your bidding.\" \"Yes; but I'm prepared.\" And the General smiled grimly, and spoke with a kind of sly triumph. \" I shall ignore his refusal. I shall put a pistol into his hand and make him fight.\" \" I doubt it.\" \" An unloaded revolver ! Ridsdale, don't you see ? I'll give him an unloaded revolver, with six cartridges. I'll have the same myself—and I'll begin to load. When he sees me load he'll know that he must do some- thing if he means to save his skin. When he sees mo load my weapon, he'll load his weapon too. I shall watch him as a cat watches a mouse. If he raises his arm, up goes mine. If he fires, I fire. We bang at each other at the same moment.\" \" Impossible.\" \" Why impossible ? If I get him alone he can't help himself.\" \" He'd treat you as a madman—give you in charge to the nearest policeman.\" \" Oh, no, he wouldn't. I'd get between him and the door.\" \" Apart from the fact that it would be murder if you succeeded, you wouldn't succeed.\" \" I should. You don't know how the pressure of immediate peril quickens people's movements. Point by point I'd press him down the line I meant him to take. It's so simple—not a weak spot in the infallible logic of the thing. The clock would be put back as rapidly as if destiny moved its hands.\" Ridsdale laughed again, very lightly. \" Look here,\" said the General, eagerly, \" try it. You don't understand what I mean. Let me show you what I mean. Act it with me.\" \" Act it ? I—I don't follow.\" \" Rehearse it. Let me show you how it works. We'll go through it point by point —and if you can show me a weak spot I'll thank vou with all mv heart.\" As he spoke, eagerly and enthusiastically, but still almost in a whisper, the General had hurried across to the chair that held his ugly leather bag. \" See here !\" He had opened his bag, and the electric light flashed upon the bright metal of a pistol. \" Here—another one,\" and the light flashed again. \" A revolver for him and for me. Now help me to rehearse the

764 THE STRAND MAGAZINE. from our ammunition. You follow it all, don't you ? You catch my meaning ? \" Mr. Ridsdale, staring at his empty revolver, nodded. \" Very well. Now, if you value your life, pre- pare to defend it. See! I am going to lead.\" The General's acting was rather good. Deriving stimulus from his natural emotions, he achieved some fine artistic effects. His flushed face, his bent brows, his fierce atti- tude and swift movements, indicated the determination of implacable wrath. apprehensive doubts, if not of craven fear. \" One ! \" The General had crept to the table, taken a cartridge, and was slipping it into the chamber. \" There ! \" he whispered. \" Automatically \"SEE HKRK ! A RKVOIAr.K l-'OR HIM AND FOR MIC. NOW HKI.I' MI! TO RKHF.ARSE THF. TRICK.' And Ridsdale, too, represented his assumed character well enough. His cheeks were livid, his breath came gaspingly, the hand that carried the revolver shook perceptibly— altogether an excellent simulation of surprise, you have done it too. 1 told you so. Wait ! Lift your hand at your peril. My turn. Two ! \" Ridsdale, copying the General's slightest movement, was loading as the General loaded. \"Three! That's it. Three left. When

AN IMPOSSIBLE PERSON. 765 you take the last, step back. I'll not raise my arm till you are back\" on the hearth. I swear it. Four ! \" The music had ceased, but neither of them noticed. In a silence broken only by the sound of panting respirations, they loaded the fifth and sixth cartridges, and simul- taneously sprang away from the table. \" Now ! \" The General had been the quicker. His arm was up. \" Now answer me.\" The ferocity in the hissing words was terrible to hear. '.' Are you the man ? \" \" I—I Upon my word, I—don't understand such folly.\" \" You blackguard ! This is not acting.\" The concentrated passion behind the words seemed to send forth waves that struck one's beating heart with flame and ice. \" Now, answer me, or—so help me, God !—I'll shoot you.\" Then the drawing-room door opened. The General, instinctively dropping his arm and turning, shouted at his wife :— \" Go back ! Go back, I tell you ! \" There was a blaze as if all the electric lamps had exploded, and a crash that seemed to shake the wall?;. Then again came the flash and the roar. Mr. Ridsdale had fired twice. For a moment the room was full of smoke. Then the dusty cloud rose, grew thin. The lamplight, shining unimpeded, showed General Beckford still upon his feet, standing square and erect, with Cynthia desperately cling- ing to his breast. \" What's this ? \" said the General, loudly and sternly. \" Has the smoke blinded you, Cynthia ? Why have you come to me ? Your place is not here. Go to your lover's arms.\" But she clung to him closer. She was stretching her slender figure to its fullest height, trying to cover his limbs with her limbs, his face with her face, madly straining to make a shield of trembling flesh large enough to protect him from danger. \" The coward ! \" she wailed. \" The miserable coward ! He shot at you when you weren't looking. He tried to kill you ! \" \" Then get out of the way,\" said the General. \" and let him try again. Can't you see how you're hampering him ? This is his chance and yours. Don't spoil it. Let him set you free.\" But Cynthia only trembled, sobbed, and clung. \" Very well,\" and the General laughed harshly. \" We have been interrupted, and my opponent must kindly understand that his chance is gone. Cynthia, do you hear ? He won't shoot again. Now, stop whimper- ing, and answer me.\" \" Yes, I want to tell you everything.\" \" I< thii man your lover ? \" \" No—no.\" \" But he has endeavoured to be ? \" \" Yes.\"

766 THE STRAND MAGAZINE. 1 GO BACK ! 00 BACK, I TELL YOU ! \" as afraid of firearms as you are yourself, back directly, and when he has packed your And, a propos, the hall door is open. I didn't things where shall he take them ? \" really lock it.\" \" Ah—er—say, the St. Pancras Hotel.\" Mr. Ridsdale silently crossed the room. \" And I may send your cheque to that \" Then good night to you. Yates will be address ? Thank you. Good night ! \"

MULTUM IN PARVO. A. Compendium of Sliort Articles. Straight-Line Pictures from America. .t will be remembered that we published, a few months ago, a number of Twenty-One-Straight-Line Pictures drawn by our readers. Since then we have received many hundreds from American readers, some of which are so good that we now publish a'small selection, and only regret that, want of space prevents our including more. I. THE THREE WITCHES. \\ \\ I \\ ll\\ j / / 2. THE MOHAMMEDAN. 3. JUMBO. ' TEDDY.\" The following ia a list of the senders of the al-ove. tlie numbers (.orresjK>nding to those under the reproductions; No. I, Mr. Jowph E. 8 indford. IKK. JK-Uonouiih St.. llrooklyn. N.Y. ; No. a. Mr. W. S. Kevorkian. 1B7, Pleuam SL.Won-estvr. M.-m. ; Nos 3 iin.l 7. Mr. Uarenro IVaeh, •iU4 -Jtul Avenue. N.V ; No. 4. Mr .liiine-i M. Kane. lioylebti>wii. PennMvh;Lnia. P;L ; Nos. 5 anil II). .Mr. 11 J. KJLIK-, U.IT .r>9, Il.iyle^towii, I'enn- •ylTania. Pa.; No. 6, Mr. F. K. I«lle, 1715. MontKOiuery Avenue. Morris Heights. New York City; No. 8, .Mi*.s Judith M. L-.'e, lie. Koyal Court. Portland, Ore.; Nos. 9 and 11. Mr. Ca;m. P. ShotTner, 98. Gfrm in-American Bids.. Broad and Arch at*., Philadeli'hia. Pa.; No. 12, Mr. C. W. Cnulkins, 401, Trumbull St., Hartford, Conn.

MULTUM IN PARVO. How to Hold Animals. WRITTEN BY S. LEONARD BASTIN AND ILLUSTRATED BY S. J. MILLER. FIG. 3.—CUINKA-I'IG. FIG. I.—CAT Ok DOG. '\"T'HERE are just a few people 1 in the world who seem to know as if by instinct how to handle an animal. In most cases. however, it is to be feared that our domestic pets suffer a good deal from the improper way in which their otherwise considerate owners hold them. On this account a few simple hints as to the manner in which the commonest kinds of animals should be handled will probably not come amiss. It is often remarked that cats are always quiet with some people, whilst with others they struggle and scratch to an alarming degree. In nine cases out of ten, where there is trouble, it is a matter of wrong- ful holding. Even when puss is in her most resentful moods she will rest quite comfortably if sup- ported by the hand under the fore part of the body. In the case of a large or heavy cat both hands may be placed just behind the fore-legs, the back legs being al- lowed to rest on the arms (Fig. i). Except with very tiny kit- tens it is not really kind to lift the animal by the scruff of its neck. The same remark will apply in the case of puppies, in spite of all the widespread ideas to the con- trary. Of course, fully-grown dogs,unless they are of a very small breed, are not lifted about PIG. 2.—RAUBii. much; where FIG. 4. —TAME MOUSE OR RAT. this is done the method adopted in the case of the cat should be followed. It is very important that children who keep pets should be fully instructed in the ways of handling their charges. Guinea- pigs and rabbits often suffer from improper treatment in this respect, and sometimes, it is to be feared, sustain real injury. The old idea that a rabbit should be lifted by its ears must be most emphati- cally condemned as cruel. Pet rabbits are generally much heavier than are the same creatures in a more natural state, and it must be really painful for the animal to be lifted up by its ears. A glance at the

HOW TO HOLD AXIMALS. 769 FIG. 6.—SNAKE OR ADDER. manner (Fig. 4). Ferrets are not very commonly kept as pets, but as they are somewhat spiteful in their habits it. is.desirable to know the right way FIG. 7. —SMALL CAGE-BIRD. in which to hold them. A bite from one of these creatures is a very unpleasant experience, and, in order to avoid this, the animal should be picked up in the following manner. Without any hesitation grasp the creature in the hand just under the fore-legs, and in this way hold quite firmly (Fig. 5). It is then impossible for the ferret to turn round and bite one. On releasing the animal, withdraw the hand very quickly, or the lithe creature may turn round and wreak vengeance on its holder. In these days, when so many curious kinds of pels are kept, it is not an un- common thing to find lizards and even snakes in ca|>- tivity. The former should always be held in the hollow of the hand, where they will rest quile comfortably. Ofcourse.no ordinary per- son would dream of keeping venomous snakes as pets, but even the harmless grass snakes are difficult, though not at all dangerous, to handle. In the case of these reptiles the only right manner of handling is to grasp the neck just Vol jeliv.-es. behind the head between the thumb and fore-finger (Fig. 6). Asa rule, the snake will twine itself round the wrist and arm, and will keep quite still. Adders may be picked up in this way without the least risk, although it should be borne in mind that all snakes are very rapid in their movements.. On this account the creature should be seized with firmness; any hesitation would probably have an unpleasant outcome. All kinds of birds are rather difficult to handle, and the smaller sorts, at any rate, can be quite badly injured by being held in an improper manner. When catching a small cage-bird of any sort, the hand should be quickly placed over the wings of the little pet, finally enclosing the whole body in the manner indi- cated in Fig. 7. Even in the case of birds with FIG. 8.—PIGF.ON. FIG. 9 FIG. 10. GOOSF. OR SWAN. formidable beaks and claws, such as parrots

MULTUM IN PARVO. Chinese \\Vora-Pictures. Tke Pathos and Humour of an Ancient Language. BY FREDERIC POOLE. IN view of impending changes in the \" Great Republic of China\" it may be interesting to note some of the strange though logical peculiarities of a language in which over four hundred millions have conducted their national and commercial affairs, cultivated an intellect, and paid reverential homage to a teacher whose writings, though antedating the Christian era, are still to be held sacred even in their present feverish devotion to the \" new learning.\" As a spoken language it is unique among the human mediums of communication in that it is musical with a purpose. It is not so much the correct pronuncia- tion of a Chinese word that makes the speaker intelli- gible as the proper intonation of that word, for the meaning of a word in Chinese is positively indicated by the tone in which it is uttered. When we re- member that one word may have as many as five differept sounds, and these so fine in variance as to be.^swrcely detected by an unmusical ear, the difficulty of acquiring spoken Chinese by the foreigner will be readily appreciated. You ask your native servant to bring you your hat—\" mow \"—but use the wrong inflexion, and he very properly brings you a cat, for \" mow \" means cat as well as hat when uttered in another tone. It is, however, more especially of the pictorial character of the Chinese written language that I wish to speak ; for, to the average Occidental mind, these strange Oriental symbols have been incapable of com- prehension, because of their apparently meaningless complexity. And yet, while one of the most difficult, it is at the same time one of the easiest tongues to understand to one possessing a retentive memory and an appre- ciation of logical deduction, while its lurking humour renders the study a most fascinating one. With his centuries of training in the recognition of suggestive pictorial forms in his beloved ideographs it will be difficult, for a while, for the young Chinese student of English to admit that the letters M A N describe the human biped so thoroughly as did their ancient character for \" man \" (i). In this character we see two strokes which actually represent the two legs of a man, and we are left to assume that the Chinese had little appreciation of i. MAN. the intellectual part of the human body or the usefulness of the arms until we learn that, as the ages have rolled by, there has been a tendency to abbreviate the formation of many of their characters, and their striking original sugges- tiveness has been lost. The study of ancient Chinese, therefore, reveals to us that the word \" man \" in past ages was easy to recognize, for here he is in all his original completeness (2), and in this form \" man was written in Chinese literature seven hundred years before the Israelites crossed the Red Sea. Each character is a word, and yet one word may consist of several words a. MAN. grouped together, and in this manner (Ancient form.) these \" word pictures \" are built up. Note the conceit in the combination for the word A \" great,\" consisting of the word \" man \" and the

CHINESE WORD-PICTURES. 771 10. SUN. (Ancient form.) a trated in the ancient and modern forms of the word for \" sun.\" Centuries ago the circle and centra! dot (10) was at once suggestive of that orb, and even justifies a belief in their knowledge of astronomy. But it is easier to wiitc a square than a circle, and so we find tnat straight lines have taken the place of curves in modern Chinese literature, and the present form of the word for \" sun \" is thus (i i) : — The Chinese accom- plished what is said to be impossible. They squared a circle. ord (i8), correctly describes a universal Chinese characteristic. It. SUN. (Modern form.) 13- BRIGHTNESS. Having located the sun, it was a simple thing to devise a character that should stand for \" horizon,\" and so they drew a line beneath, and there you have it (12), \" horizon,\" the sun just above the line. That there was premeditation and intelligence exercised in the selection of these sign words is indicated when the ancient Chinese language-makers drew the word for \" brightness.\" 12. HORIZON. First they appropriated the word for \" sun,\" and, as though this was not bright enough, they then selected the next most brilliant luminary, and in a combination of \" sun \" and \" moon \" they defied the world to furnish a better illustration of \" bright- ness \" (13). In the writing of these word-pic- tures it may be truthfully said that every little movement of the pen has a meaning of its own. In the word for \"door\" we see the entrance and the grille-work at the top (14), and that they have reason to fear the unwelcome visit of a prospecting bur- glar is indicated by the word to \" lock,\" in which we find a heavy bar is drawn across the door (15). The practices of the tramp 14. DOUH. fraternity — and begging is distinctly a profession in China — soon gave the Chinese lexico- grapher the right idea for the word \" beg,\" and our familiarity with the same appealing type in our own land will enable us to appreciate the meaning of \"a mouth within the door \" (16). Still further may the door be used in illustrating a weakness of human nature that cannot be said to be exclusively Chinese, but that some of them are in the habit of listening at the keyhole seems to be proven by the character for \"listen\" (17), where we detect the \" ear at the door.\" And yet, with all their faults, the

772 THE STRAND MAGAZINE. us for our stern consideration. All ideas of male superiority vanish, and a deep feeling of resentment against the formulators of this strange language is aroused as we analyze' that monstrous combination of three characters which convey the Chinese idea of \" marriage \" and depict \" a woman and a pig under one roof \" (24). We are inclined to suspect that a woman was on that ancient board of language constructors, and surrep- titiously smuggled in this uncompli- mentary character, to us, in a spirit of sheer revenge. But there is another word in which she plays a dominant part, and thus helps to create a symbol of one of the noblest qualities in the human race. The presence of this character in the language should greatly compensate for the apparent injustice done to her in other of these curious word-pictures, for in the word \" peace \" we find these two characters combined, \" woman 25. PEACE. under a roof \" (25). 24. MARRIAGE. And so we might continue, ad infinitum, in ex- posing the pictorial and logical construction of this world-old language and its occasional mirthful sig- nificance. It is well that China, now in the throes of her most stupendous modern reformation, should adopt the sciei ce and literature of the West, for they are abso- lutely essential to her laudable purpose ; but it is equally desirable that their ancient traditions shall not be forgotten or that the admirable precepts of their sages of bygone ages should be ignored, for five centuries before it was revealed to us that \" God had made of one blood all nations to dwell upon earth \" one of these ancient Chinese philosophers declared, with equal emphasis, \" Tien Hsia yee Jia \"—\" All under Heaven are one family\" (26). 26. \"ALL UNPER HKAVFN AHE ONE FAMILY.** Chess. An Immortal Ckcss Problem. BY T. B. ROWLAND. T HE first recorded chess problem—a Persian MS. of which is preserved in the British Museum— is a nine-mover, attributed to Caliph Kalifen ~ ~ Mutasim Billah, who reigned in Bagdad 833 to 842. When it was composed the moves of mostofthe chessmen dif- ..,.,.,, . ,.„ fered from those as'we now have •'§/' Q§P ipla-'' them. The moves of the I.A^ sT £41 roo^; however, were the same, so it is with a rook problem we now have to deal. The position shown has appeared through successive ages and in different countries from the time of the appearance of the first recorded problem down to the present day, and, as the rooks, playing in conjunction, always evolve new variations, it is likely to continue to the end of the chapter. No. i.—COMPOSED IN 1200. Set the position on the board thus, and we have the first recorded two-mover :— No. i. BLACK. WHITE.

AN IMMORTAL CHESS PROBLEM. 773 the chief authority of the time, pronounced it impossible in six moves, but \" masterly in seven.\" Nowadays it can be solved in six moves in four different ways Bring the position back to the top of the board as first shown, place the White king on K 5, and we have it as a four-mover. No. 9.—COMPOSED IN 1550. It next appeared greatly improved by the addition of a Black pawn on K 2, and as a three-mover. No. 10.—COMPOSED IN 1600. Take off the pawn, put the Black king on K 2. and we have it again as a four-mover :— No. 10. Similar positions are in the well- known Anonymous Bolognese group °f MSS., but the solver will find that all are near relations. No. ii.—COMPOSED IN 1670. Its next appearance was with each king set two squares lower down, and given as a three-mover. No. 12.—COMPOSED IN 1700. Then it appeared as a four- mover, each king l>«ing one square '-- farther down. No. 13.—COMPOSED IN 1720. This, in turn, had its day until it came out with the White king on Ki and the Black king on his fourth square, the conditions being ^__^^_^^^_ the same. So far, with few ex- ceptions, the moves in the solutions can be made on the king's side of the board as 'Well as on the queen's side. No. 14.—CAME OUT IN 1750. The next position, as diagrammed, is a production of many different composers at different times :— No. 14. It is a three-mover, the White king being on K 8. Bcrger gives it in a Dutch paper under the caption. \" Nach Alfonso No. 80, A.D. 1283.\" No. 15.—SAMUELSON, 1800. The great Paul Morphy himself has been credited with a rook problem, and even the present chess champion of the world, Lasker. had a try at it. We resume the sequence with another three-mover. As the positions that follow are also three-movers, it will be unnecessary to further give the conditions, excepting where other- wise stated. No. 16.—HORWITZ, 1848. White K at Q 2, R's at K R 3 and 5 : Black K at QB5- No. 17.—BAILEY. 1849. White K at Q B 5, R's at Q Kt 5 and K R i; Black K at K 4. No. 18.—BEVIS, 1850. White K at Q Kt 8, R's at Q R 5 and Q B 5; Black K at Q Kt 3. No. 19.—KNORRE, 1860. As on next diagram :— No. 19. Nos. 18 and 19 are perhaps the easiest of the series. No. 20.—LOYD, 1867. However, we now come to a famous position which will baffle the solver until the author's idea is grasped. White K at K i, R's

774 THE STRAND MAGAZINE. No. 31. No. 28.—TEED, 1891. Now change : White K at K 4, R's at K B i and K Kt 7 ; Black K at K 3, P at Q R 6. No. 29.—DANIEL, 1892. Again : White K at K 6, R's at Q B 3 and K B 3 ; Black K at K 5, and P at Q B 3. NO. 30.—KOHTZ AND KOCKELHORN, 1893. White K at K 8, R's at Q 4 and K B 7, P's at Q B 3 and K B 3 ; Black K at K 3. and P at Q B 5. No. 31.—BERCER, 1894. The next, as diagrammed, is a four- mover—one of many other similar set- tings. No. 32.—GALITZKY, 1895. This was converted into a five-mover by having the White K at K R 8. R at Kt 3, P at R 2 ; Black K at R 4, and P at R 5, all on the IC's side. This, in turn, was altered and given as a six-mover, and then, again, as a seven-mover. From 1895 on several thousand new renderings of the rook then* have appeared, one of the latest being :— No. 33.—HANO. WHITE. This, with the White K at K i, was given with a castling solution. In fact, the White rooks have been shown on the board in every conceivable way. The exact origin of the mediaeval positions B uncertain. Their chronology is still disputed. How- ever, judging by the MSS and old collections the present writer has had access to, the dates here given are the nearest that can be computed. The solutions will appear next month. Solutions to Last Month a Perplexities. 106.—THE FOUR KNIGHTS' TOURS. IT will be seen in the illustration h°w a chessboard may be divided into four parts, each of the same size and shape, so that a complete re - entrant knight's tour may be made on each portion. 107.—TORPEDO PRACTICE. IF the enemy's fleet be anchored in the for- mation shown in the illustration, it will be seen that as many as ten out of the sixteen ships may be blown up by discharging the torpedoes in the order indicated by the numbers and in the direc- tions indicated by the arrows. As each torpedo in succession passes under three ships and sinks the fourth, strike out each vessel with the pencil as it is sunk. A, B, C, and D can each reach their land from the out' side, and have each equal access to the well in the centre. [Some new Perplexities will be given next month.)

The Attempt on St. Mary's Branch. . By HAROLD STEEVENS. 'I' Illustrated by Cyrus Cuneo, R.L ON-FOUND the bank ! \" muttered Jack Seymour, for the twentieth time that morning. \" Con-found the brutal bank ! \" he reite- rated, in a tone of such concentrated rancour that Downey, the cashier, turned round with a pleased smile on his sober face. \" Buck up ! \" said Downey, genially. \" This is the fifth Saturday running,\" growled Seymour, without looking up. \" It's all very well for you, you lazy cashier, but it'll be four o'clock before 1 get away, and I'm due on the match ground at three. Where does all the stuff come from ? Why don't you make those brutes pay in earlier ? Why can't head office increase the staff ? \" The heat of his feelings gave speed to his pen ; his hand flew at lightning pace over the rapidly-filling page of the waste-book. Downey turned again and tossed another mass of cheques into the wire basket in front of Seymour. \" Can you read what you're writing ? \" he asked, in a tone of bland solicitude. Then, glancing up at the clock, which pointed to three minutes to one, he added : \"It's all over! Jones is late to-day. You'll have to close the doors.\" Seymour's frequent outbreaks were the brightest spots in Downey's official life ; not a day passed without his being cheered by one or more of them—generally more. \" Another six months of this, and I shall be in a mad-house,\" groaned Seymour. \" So long as that ? \" said Downey, affecting great surprise. Seymour hated the bank. Big-built, vigorous, and of an eager temperament, it was torture to him to spend his days cooped up in an office. Yet in the irony of things it was his very love of an outdoor life, and his catholic attachment to every form of athletics, which had condemned him to an occupation the very antithesis of all the pursuits he adored. For his scholastic achievements had not been brilliant, and his father, possessed of a considerable family but inconsiderable means, was glad enough to get Jack into the bank, of which he himself had been a client for many years past. \" It's a gentlemanly profession, my boy,\" he had said. \" It's certain, and you've always got your pension to look forward to.\" But the comfortable potentialities of forty years hence did not appeal to Jack in the least degree, and, though he resolved to do his best, he loathed the bank from the first. The St. Mary's branch of the London and National Bank had been opened less than a year, but the business, after hanging fire for some months, had latterly expanded so fast that it had now quite outgrown the original small staff. In answer to the manager's repeated requests, a new junior

776 THE STRAM) MAGAZINE. excellent cigars, which lie1 never tired of pressing.upon his friends at the hank—he said they were so kind to him. , The cautious Downey was not the man to swallow all this at a gulp, however. \" Blicker is a most amusing man,\" he said to the manager one. day, \" and you can't help liking him, up to a point. But I wouldn't trust him with a penny-piece myself. Where did he come from ? \" \" Harburghs' introduction,\" replied the manager. \" They're good enough them- selves, but you know what these foreigners are. They'd give anybody a good character for the sake of getting a little business. Don't let Blicker overdraw a shilling without coming to me first.\" Blicker never attempted to overdraw; his balance was not large,- but it was always comfortably on the right side. \" A lot of money outstanding,\" he would say. \" Too much. Safe as the Bank of England, I know, but it isn't business, Mr. Downey. I don't like worrying people for their accounts—the Government do enough of that—but you must look after yourself in business, and I shall be waking some af them up presently. I like to carry a balance of five or six hundred pounds at the very least.\" Downey was not too much impressed, and when this untimely demand for ten pounds' worth of coppere was sprung upon him he had no compunction in speaking his mind. However, as no other clients were waiting he could hardly refuse, and so, with the usual murmured request to Seymour to \" watch the counter,\" in case other clients might come in, he took his keys and hurried downstairs for the two heavy bags of coin. Seymour nodded without raising his eyes or interrupting his furious work for one instant. He had reached what would prob- ably be the last big credit of the day—nobody with any decent feeling would bring in any- thing much now—and as he triumphantly dashed the paying-in slip on to the spike by his side he noticed'that Mr. Blicker had taken up the copy of the Stock Exchange List which always lay on the counter and was opening its spacious sheets with a good deal of rustling. This last credit was of a most offensive type. It was for the account of a haberdashers' warehouseman, and consisted of forty or fifty exasperating little cheques of two or three pounds apiece. As he dealt with them, he kept up a running mutter, thus : \" Two five four, Jenkins, County, Balham ; three six- teen eleven, Brown, N.P., Chipping Sodbury,\" and so on. What made him look up from his engross- ing labour he was never able to explain; possibly the very tension upon his nervous organization produced in him a condition of hypersensitiveness. It could hardly have been pure accident, for so fiercely bent was he upon the completion of his work that if the roof had fallen in, and not fallen actually upon him, he would probably have given it no

THE ATTEMPT O\\ ST. MARY'S BRANCH. 777 His two hands grasped the brass rail above his desk. Seymour's big figure rose smartly into the air, his long legs shot out sideways, cleared the rail, and dropped into the space between the desk and the counter, knocking over Downey's stool as they came. It was a magnificent vault such as few men could have accomplished, and Mr. Blicker could not possibly have expected any such thing to happen. Yet from the fact that he was so little taken aback it may be inferred that his eye had been surreptitiously upon Seymour all the time ; he saw the beginning of the leap and was consequently not unpre- pared to meet it. Seymour had begun his leap an appreciable fraction of a second before the bag of sovereigns had actually reached Mr. Blicker's hand. VoLzliv.- ~ \"THE HEAVY HAG BEGAN TO RISE GENTLY, AS THOUGH IT WOULD SOAR OVER THE COUNTER.\" Moreover, the latter, relying as he must have done upon the sense of touch alone, had occupied a further fraction of time in securing a firm hold upon the neck of the bag. Therefore his hand was still inside the paper tunnel when Seymour's large and mus- cular right hand darted across the bulging paper sheet and fastened upon his coat- sleeve. For Seymour had realized in a flash

778 THE STRAND MAGAZINE. that to try and grasp the bag or the hand that held it smothered under the folds of the paper would have been to risk getting hold of nothing at all. Neither word nor exclamation had Seymour uttered—his lips were tight-closed in a firm, straight line. Nor, for that matter, had any sound escaped from Mr. Blicker. His face was as calm as if he were asking Seymour for his pass-book. The casual observer, had there been one, might have supposed that with him this kind of thing was an ordinary every- day occurrence. None the less, if his voice was silent and his face calm, Mr. Blicker's body was plainly braced for terrific action. For with a sudden heave of his arm he dragged the bag of sove- reigns from the counter, doubtless intending to dislodge Seymour's clutch upon his sleeve by the same movement. Jn this he failed. Seymour had sprung into this fray with his nervous forces already wrought up to a pitch of tension by the efforts and exasperations of the morning. His well- trained muscles answered to the call upon them with the quickness of thought itself. Again, Jack Seymour had played Rugby almost ever since he could stand, and to hold where he seized was a part of his nature. So, although his finger-nails were driven down into his flesh by the vehemence of his clutch, he could not let go any more than a bulldog can open its jaws when once they have closed upon its enemy. Lifted off his feet by the powerful haul of Mr. Blicker's arm, he went flying spreadeagle- wise over the counter, for all the world like some huge, grotesque extension of Mr. Blicker's coat-sleeve. His legs caught the cash-scales and swept them, weights and all, on to the tiled mosaic of the outer office floor. As soon as Seymour's wrist projected over the edge of the counter, Mr. Blicker, by a sudden downward movement of the hand, weighted as it was with the bag of gold, was able to wrench his sleeve from Seymour's bleeding fingers. Carried forward by the momentum, and finding nothing on the slip- pery counter to check his passage, Seymour fell crashing to the floor. But even as he fell, he flung out his arms with the instinct of the footballer and clasped Mr. Blicker round the leg. Mr. Blicker, his right arm now free, swung the bag of sovereigns in the air and brought it down with all his might on Seymour's head. Luckily for the owner of that head, Mr. Blicker's movements were somewhat ham- pered by the iron grip around his leg. He had aimed for the nape of the neck, but could not quite reach it, partly protected as it was by his own knee. Otherwise Seymour's sorrows and joys would have ended there and then. The force of the blow dazed him—a bag of a thousand sovereigns weighs over seven- teen pounds—and his grasp relaxed. Mr. Blicker tore himself away and dashed for the

THE ATTEMPT ON ST. MARY'S BRANCH. MK. l;l.lCKIiR bWU.NG THE BA AND BKOUCUT IT DOWN WITH ALL HIS MIGHT ON SEYMOUR'S HEAD. as many a gallant foeman had sorrowfully learned on the grassy field of athletic battle. Habit had now become second nature. Some- thing in his head seemed to tighten with a sudden strong contraction as when a red-hot mass of iron is dropped into cold water. Summoning all the force that was in him, he hurled himself forward, flung out his hand, and grabbed at Mr. Blicker's foot. The wrench nearly snapped his wrist. It also took him off his balance, and once mere brought him heavily to the ground. He could not keep his hold, but it served'his purpose. For Mr. Blicker stopped dead\"and

78o THE STRAND MAGAZINE. his face went white. For one excruciating instant he must have felt as though his leg were being torn from its socket; yet he never cried out. Then foot and limb were free again. He started forward, but the momentum which should have carried him through and out had been lost. Before he could wriggle clear the heavy panels swung back and caught the fingers of his right hand with smashing force. Instinctively he snatched them away, and as he did so Ihe bag of sove- reigns fell from his grasp—inside the doors. Mr. Blicker was outside ; he had won through, but without his prize. Probably the double pain in leg and hand stung him to fury—the blind, insensate fury of the wounded animal ; otherwise so cool a man would have realized at once that the game was as good as lost and would have made his escape. Instead he turned to fight for the gold. Then through the glass panelling of the door he saw that the manager, startled by the noise of the fray, had emerged from his private room and was hurrying towards the prostrate Seymour. He also saw Mr. Downey, running in the same direction. At any moment, too, the attention of officious passers-by might be attracted to the proceedings. Mr. Blicker turned to run; but he had lost a valuable moment. As he turned he caught a glimpse of Seymour's head and shoulders heaving up from the ground behind the door. Dashing out into the street, he plunged reck- lessly into the traffic and sped in a diagonal direction across the road. Seymour burst through the swing doors and rushed after him ; in one stride he was on the doorstep. In his hand he held the bag of gold, which he had snatched up from the floor when it fell from Mr. Blicker's crushed fingers. His quick eye picked out the flying figure. He saw his enemy escaping him. His blood was up. The idea that he was imperilling the bank's money never occurred to him ; he had forgotten the bank's very existence. The natural man surged up in him and swamped every other part of his being. For the moment his emotions were those of a cave-dweller. His enemy was escaping—and he had a missile in his hand. Whirling the bag of a thousand sovereigns round his head, he launched it into the air with all his strength, and the costly missile sped hurtling high above the traffic. Fortunate that its neck had been tied by the hand of the methodical Downey ! Mr. Blicker was running for the narrow entry of an obscure court; that gained, his escape was practically assured, for twenty yards from the entry it split up into a. maze of twisted alleys. This court, indeed, must have formed an integral part of his plan ; only, if the plan had carried, the court would have swallowed up Mr. Blicker, spoil and all. He leapt the kerbstone ; another bound would have taken him home. Then the

THE ATTEMPT ON ST. MARY'S BRANCH. 781 under remand. In the meantime, the police, having investigated his antecedents, found that his record was uncommonly bad. Jameson Blicker was, of course, an alias—by no means the only one which he had honoured with his patronage in the course of a full and varied criminal career. His baptismal name was William Smith. The most interesting feature of the trial, apart from the evidence as to the gallantry of Jack Seymour, was the production of a wonderful little instrument used by Smith, alias Blicker, in his ill-starred scheme Small enough to be contained in the palm of a man's hand, this instru- ment was beautifully made of the finest steel, hardened by an admix- ture of one of the rarer metals. It consisted of a telescopic rod,extend- recommended an outdoor life for some years to come. This was happily made possible by the action of the directors of the bank. In con- sideration of his famous exploit, and of the fact that his hurt had been contracted in the service of the bank, which he had probably saved from an unpleasant loss, they awarded . \"THK ORANGK BAG DLSCKNDEIJ WITH HOWITZKR FOKCK BKTWEKN MR. SLICKER'S SHOULDER-BLADES AND STRUCK HIM TO THE GROUND.\" ing to two and a half yards in length when projected to its full extent. The actuating force was a fine but exceedingly powerful spring, of a quality not inferior to the most distinguished products of M. Breguet. At the point of the rod was a tiny fish-hook. This matchless instrument is now one of the most prized exhibits in the Scotland Yard museum of criminal appliances. The doctors declared that the injury to Seymour's head made it inadvisable for him to resume his work at St. Mary's, and strongly him a present of one hundred guineas. They also paid his fare to Rhodesia, and defrayed the cost of his outfit. There are banks in Rhodesia, too, but for a long time Seymour could not bring himself to open an account at any of them. When at last it became absolutely necessary to find a repository for his rapidly-increasing wealth, he yielded to the solicitation of the manager at the nearest township. Yet he could never enter the shanty which does duty for a banking office there without feeling that he was entering a prison. By the way, the staff at St. Mary's has been largely increased. Downey has been pro- moted full accountant (with power to sign pro manager). The worthy fellow has also virtually been promised the reversion to the managership at Chipping Sodbury, which carries with it a salary of three hundred a year and chambers over the office.

How to Improve Your iilliaras Fifty per Cent. By JOHN ROBERTS. Illustrated by Chas. G HE vast majority of amateur billiard - players have been evolved, not taught; that is why there is so much room ' for improvement in their game. They have picked up their knowledge of billiards rave. much of the bad billiards, which can easily be improved out of existence by the applica- tion of proper methods of play. Stance, playing attitude, position at the table, the correct way in which to face the balls and shape for a stroke, is the first subject to which the player in search of by watching other people play, noting various improvement should turn his mind. But it is quite a mistake to be over-dogmatic in this respect. I have seen things in print which might lead a tyro to imagine that to attain the right attitude for billiards he should be frozen into it. Not so; the feet, legs, and body must be quite firm and steady, but never fixed with the tense rigidity of a man performing some feat of strength. There should always be a certain resilient quality in the ideal pose, an elasticity which gives graceful freedom of move- ment to every action without ever sacrific- ing the all-essential steadiness. What the exact pose must be in his case every player must decide for himself, bearing in mind the general principles I have de- fined. It is absurd to attempt to cast all rrien in the same billiard mould, and how needless anything of the kind is may be seen in a moment by comparing the stance of Stevenson, Gray, Diggle, and Reece—all great billiardists, but each with a playing attitude adapted to his physique. If Diggle experi- mented with the Gray stance, and the young Australian returned the compliment by endeavouring to copy the indefinable and strokes, and attempting to put such strokes into practice. This method, although prac- tically universal, can only produce a passable player when it is assisted by considerable natural aptitude and the opportunity' of witnessing plenty of billiards of the best class. In every other case it results in nothing more than a stunted player, a man whose self - instilled 'ideas bring him to a very limited degree of pro-

TO IMPROVE YOUR BILLIARDS 7*3 IF DIGGLR EXPERIMENTED WITH GKOKGE GRAY'S STANCH.\" inimitable playing attitudes of Diggle, the result might be good fun, but it would have a deplorable effect on the billiards of both. The first thing at billiards is to adopt a firm yet easy position behind the cue-ball, from which the player can look straight at his stroke. If the body is not just where it enables the player to face his work, then he must move his feet before settling down for the shot. Wriggling the upper part of the body in an attempt to get behind the ball is fatal; it destroys the body balance, and causes a wobble at the instant of striking which must bring failure in its train. This is a very common fault, both among beginners and hardened bad players ; but until it is eradicated it is hopeless to look for improve- ment. That ugly twist of the body sideways is a very real lion in the path of progress, and I cannot over-emphasize the importance of steering clear of this danger; anything approaching good billiards is a physical impossibility while it exists. Having adjusted the body pose, the next point to take care about is the holding of the cue. Here lightness is the main requisite, the only thing worth bothering about. The cue can be poised quite daintily and effectively between the forefinger and thumb by those who care to cultivate the art, but there is no great harm if more than the forefinger is brought into use and the cue allowed to rest easily and naturally in the kind of loop thus formed for its reception. Do not hold the cue loo near the butt, or you will get a \" see-saw\" cue delivery, instead of the smooth, straight swing which is the secret of cue-action. Allow the forearm to drop from the elbow freely and without restraint, adapting the body pose to enable this to be done. So much in billiards depends on absolute ease and freedom of elbow move- ment in the cue-arm that no pains should be spared to obtain it. Nothing is worse than the stiff elbow affected by poor players, especially when, as is usually the case, the point of the elbow is stuck out away from the body at as near right-angles as the player can get it, instead of being brought into line, with the cue, the correct place for the elbow. Remember, it is the elbow which supplies the motive- power for practically every stroke, and if this is cramped and re- strained you may dig at a billiard- ball with indifferent success, but you will never play real billiards as long as you live. Next, place your left hand flat on the table by extending your left arm until it is very nearly straight. Raise the knuckles of the left hand and spread the finger-tips slightly, at the same time bringing the thumb close against the side of the forefinger. This makes your bridge, and if you have done the

THE STRAND MAGAZINE. straight backwards and forwards, and deliver it without the suspicion of a waggle in any direction. It is a good plan to practise cue- delivery over a line on the table, and thus cultivate the art of accurate manipulation of the cue without actually striking a ball. Now is the time to place a ball on the table and commence to improve your play ; the trouble is that so many people neglect everything which should precede ball-practice, and their billiards is thereby placed under a perpetual handicap. Play one ball up and down the centre line of spots, taking care to hit the sphere in its vertical as well as horizontal centre, and stick to this stroke until you can bring the ball back to the cue- point off the top cushion at a wide variety of strengths. Even the useful amateur will find it no bad thing to run over this one-ball prac- tice at times; it will check any tendency he may be develop- ing towards inaccu- rate ball-striking. After learning to strike a ball well and truly in- its centre, with a nice flowing cue-action which imparts plenty of life and go to the ball, the next step is the half- ball stroke—the one FIG- '• scoring effect which cannot be ignored by any man who desires to make even a ten break intelligently. I am told that of late our generally accepted ideas on the half-ball stroke and natural angle have been rather severely handled by a scientific gentleman, who has reckoned it up nicely and tells us that we are all wrong. Well, as I wrote years ago, \" I myself have never pretended to a knowledge of mathe- matics, and yet I think that I can tell better than a senior wrangler the line a ball will take after striking another ball or the cushion.\" So, with all due respect to what the natural half-ball angle may or may not be after it has been totted up on paper, I tell the reader to place the object-ball on the centre spot of the table, put the cue-ball on the baulk-line twenty-eight inches from the centre of the ball to the face of the right side cushion, and aim to make the centre of the cue-ball strike the extreme outside edge of the red. Strike the cue-ball in the centre, let the cue follow the ball smoothly, and if you make the contact as described, nothing ever computed in or out of any University will stop the cue-ball from finding its way into the right top pocket. The same stroke is offered from the centre of a middle or top pocket off the red on the billiard spot, and there is no need for me to dwell on these familiar examples. All three are incorporated

HOW TO IMPROVE YOUR BILLIARDS. 785 cannot be utilized that he should enter another phase of billiards. The longer he can con- tinue his plain-ball striking the-better player he will be ; but sooner or later he is sure to leave the balls where a plain-ball stroke is not the game, and then. to cope with any grouping of the balls which may occur, he must make a call on some other form of stroke. Volumes have been written on this aspect of the game, and I propose to deal with it here by explaining the correct method of handling sun- dry strokes which so often spoil the billiards of the ordinary player. As far as possible I will make each stroke illustrative of a type. To commence with, let us put up a run - through cannon, as shown in our third diagram. There is just room for the object white to clear the red. and the proper way to make the stroke is to strike the cue-ball slightly above its centre, and play hard enough to bring the white ball in and out of baulk, as shown by the dotted line. Strike the object-ball as full as you dare without making it touch the red. If these directions are followed it will be found that the cannon will be completed, the white brought nicely into the centre of the table, and the cue-ball left a few inches outside the red with a fine opportunity of scoring off that ball. Why has all this happened ? Simply because the rather low contact for a follow- through stroke has tended to deaden the run of the cue-ball, and thus to prevent it from hitting the red too hard on com- pleting the cannon, and yet has allowed sufficient force to bring the white out of baulk. This stroke illustrates that it is not absolutely neces- sary to hit the cue- ball on the top to make it follow through. As a matter of fact, provided the cue-action has enough swing in it, and at least a nearly full contact is made with Vol. xliv.—70. the object, it is almost as easy to follow through without top on the cue-ball as with it, and is a more reliable stroke. Top, and plenty of it, must be employed to master a long follow - through cannon when the cue-ball has several feet to run after contact. Then the force which must be employed

786 THE STRAND MAGAZINE. FIC. 4. \"THEY MAY COT THS. CLOTH WITH THEIR DIGGING EFFORTS.\" simply because their cueing is all wrong. They may cut the cloth with their digging efforts, especially if they are addicted to raising the butt, but they will never make a screw-back stroke until they let the cue do its work naturally of its own momentum, and stop it short the instant they feel contact established between the ball and the cue-tip. Another point of great importance in connection with screw is that it always tells, no matter how fine the contact may be with the object-ball. This explains a very com- mon fault among amateurs who play- quite a fair game at times, but often come togrief through overdoing their screw-strokes. They imagine they are imparting too much bottom to the cue - ball, but the HI,. 5. truth is, they are striking the object-ball too thick time after time to produce the desired effect. On the same diagram will be seen a very pretty screw effect which is too often an unknown quantity among weak players. I allude to the.fact that a ball laden with screw retains its peculiar power after contact with a cushion. Some really marvellous effects can be produced by those capable of making the most of this retaining power of screw, but the example depicted will do to demonstrate the principle. Play at the cushion just before the ball as shown in Fig. 5, and make a screw-stroke of it exactly as if you were trying to twist bacL direct off a ball. Then you will see the cue- ball dart off the cushion, strike the object- ball, come back and make the cannon, and leave the position which is depicted by our artist. It is not an extremely difficult stroke, but, like all strokes of the screw variety, it demands plenty of confidence. Before quitting screw-strokes there is a point in connection with them which must be emphasized—that is, the rapidity with which slow screw is lost during the passage of the cue-ball over the cloth. The range varies with the cue-power of individuals, but as a rule it is much less than many players fancy, and really capable amateurs often spoil a break through attempting a slow screw at an impossible range when a forcing stroke would have meant a certain score. \" Drag \" is analogous to screw, but not quite the same thing. It is caused by striking the cue-ball low, much the same as for a screw-stroke,

HOW TO IMPROVE YOUR BILLIARDS. 787 back to remind the reader of my previous remarks regarding plain-ball striking. Nothing is more common among players who do not improve than the idea that a certain amount of side is required for almost every stroke. They worry inordinately over the problem for a time, and then give it up as beyond them; but all their difficulties would vanish if they only gave plain-ball striking a fair and extended trial. Side, beautiful as it is in its spectacular appeal, may almost be regarded as a necessary evil in billiards—as something indispensable to extricate a \" bunkered \" cueman from trouble which he usually makes for himself. This is, perhaps, an extreme view, but it is far better to regard the employment of side - as a kind of last resource, instead of the commonplace it is in the hands of so many poor players. But, assuming that the lie of the balls demands the employ- ment of side, it is well to know how to put it on properly. To get the limit of side on a ball it is necessary to strike the cue-ball at as near the outside edge of a line drawn across its horizontal centre as can be done without a miss - cue. Anything below FI this line gives screw and side— above it, top and side. Put plenty of swing into the cue when making side-strokes, and mind the alignment of the cue is perfect with the part of the cue-ball struck. It is a pood plan to practise imparting side by striking the cue-ball along the baulk-line, and noting the angle the ball takes on rebounding from the cushion. Put on right and left side alternately, and experiment with various strengths until you gain by actual cuemanship a very fair idea of the amount of side you can control. When you have pained this knowledge, use it with care and discretion, for if you drag it in willy - nilly you will not find your billiards im- proved by what you have learned about side. When playing side-strokes you must never forget that side influences the run of a ball both before and after contact, and that the devia- tion will be the more pronounced the more side there is on a ball and the slower it is moving. With the nap side will cause the ball to drift away in the direction of the side, but exactly the reverse is the case against the nap. This constant departure of a side-laden ball from a straight line must be studied closely to be

J. M A STORY FOR CHILDREN. By E. NESBIT. Illustrated by H. R. Millar. SABRINA FAIR. HAT going to the seaside was the very beginning of every- thing. The children had been counting the days to The Day. Bernard, indeed, had made a calendar on a piece of cardboard that had once been the bottom of the box in which his new white sand-shoes came home. Mavis had washed and ironed all the dolls' clothes at least a fortnight before The Day. This was thoughtful and far-sighted of her, of course, but it was a little trying to Kathleen, who was younger, and who would have much preferred to go on playing with the dolls in their dirtier and more familiar state. \" Well, if you do,\" said Mavis, a little hot and cross from the ironing-board, \" I'll never wash anything for you again, not even vour face.\" Kathleen somehow felt as if she could bear that. \" But mayn't I have just one of the dolls ? \" was, however, all she said. \" Just the teeniest, weeniest one ? Let me have Lord Edward. His head's half gone as it Copyright, 1912, is, and I could dress him in a clean hanky and pretend it was kilts.\" Mavis could not object to this, because, of course, whatever else she washed she didn't wash hankies. So Lord Edward had his pale kilts, and the other dolls were put away in a row in Mavis's corner drawer. It was after that that Mavis and Francis had long, secret consultations, and when the younger ones asked questions they were told, \" It's secrets ; you'll know in good time.\" This, of course, excited everyone very much indeed, and it was rather a come-down when the good time came and the secret proved to be nothing more interesting than a large empty glass aquarium, which the two elders had clubbed their money together to buy, for six-and- ninepence, in the Old Kent Road. They staggered up the front garden path with it, very hot and tired. \" But what are you going to do with it ? \" Kathleen asked, as they all stood round the nursery-table looking at it. \" Take it to the seaside and fill it with sea-water,\" Francis explained, \" to put sea-anemones in.\" \" I don't believe they'll let you take it,'' by E. Nesbit-Bland.

WET MAGIC. 789 said Bernard. If you know anything of grown-ups, you will know that Bernard proved to be quite right. \" Take an aquarium to the seaside ! Nonsense ! \" they said. And \" What for ? \" not waiting for the answer. (\" They,\" just at present, was Aunt Enid.) Francis had always been passionately fond of water. Even when he was a baby he always stopped crying the moment they put him in the bath. And he was the little boy who, at the age of four, was lost for three hours and then brought home by, the police, who had found him sitting in a horse- generally thought of something that would make things, at any rate, just a little better. \" Let's fill it with'fresh water and get some goldfish.\" Francis admitted that there was something in this, and consented to fill the aquarium with water from the bath. When this was done the aquarium was so heavy that the combined efforts of all four children could not begin to move it. \" Never mind,\" said Mavis, the consoler; \" let's empty it out again and take it back to the common room, and then fill it by secret jugfuls—carried separately, you know.\" \"ENTERTAINING A CIRCLE OK CARTERS WITH POTS OF BEER IN THEIR HANDS.\" trough in front of the Willing Mind, wet to the topmost hair of his head and quite happy, entertaining a circle of carters with pots of beer in their hands. Passionately attracted by water in all forms, from the simple mud-puddle to the complicated machinery by which your bath supply is enabled to get out of order, it was a real tragedy to Francis that he had never seen the sea. Something had always happened to prevent it. He told Mavis about the aquarium, and she agreed with him that it was a shame. , \" But I'll tell you what,\" she said, for she was not one of those comforters who just say, \" I'm sorry,\" and don't try to help. She This might have been successful, but Aunt Enid met the first secret jugful, and forbade the second. \" Messing about,\" she called it. \" No, of course I sha'n't allow you to waste your money on fish.\" And mother was already at the seaside, getting the lodgings ready for them. Her last words had been : \" Be sure you do exactly what Aunt Enid says.\" So of course they had to. Aunt Enid was not a real aunt, but just an old friend of grandmamma's, with an aunt's name and privileges and rather more than an aunt's authority.

790 THE STRAND MAGAZINE. Even in its unwatery state, however, the aquarium was beautiful. \" Let's put flowers in it,\" Kathleen sug- gested, \" and pretend they're anemones. Do let's, France.\" \" I don't care what you do,\" said Francis. \" I'm going to read ' The Water-Babies.' \" Francis sat down squarely with \" The Water-Babies \" flat before him on the table, where also his elbows were, and the others, respecting his sorrow, stole quietly away. When the three had finished with it the aquarium really looked rather nice, and, if you stooped and looked sideways through the glass, like a real water aquarium. Kathleen took some (linkers from the back of the rockery—\" where they won't show,\" she said—and Mavis induced these to stand up like an arch in the middle of the glassy square. Tufts of long grass rather sparingly arranged looked not unlike water-weed. Bernard begged from the cook some of the fine silver-sand which she uses to scrub the kitchen-tables and dressers with, and Mavis cut the thread of the Australian shell necklace that Uncle Robert sent her last Christmas, so that there should be real shimmery, silvery shells on the sand. They shone delightfully through the glass. But the great triumph was the sea-anemones—pink and red and yellow- clinging to the rocky arch just as though they were growing there. \" Oh, lovely, lovely!\" Kathleen cried, as Mavis fixed the last delicate flesh-tinted crown. \" Come and look, France.\" \" Not yet,\" said Mavis, in a great hurry, and she tied the thread of the necklace round a tin goldfish and hung it from the arch. \" Now, France ! \" she called. And Francis came slowly, with his thumb in \" The Water- Babies.\" It was nearly dark by now, but Mavis had lighted the four dolls'-house candles on the gilt candlesticks and set them on the table round the aquarium. \" Why,\" said Francis, slowly, \" you've got water in it—and real anemones. Where on earth— \" No—not water. And not real,\" said Mavis. \" I wish they were—they're only dahlias—but it does look pretty, doesn't it ? \" \" It's like fairyland.\" said Kathleen, and Bernard added, \" I am glad you bought it.\" \" It just shows what it will be like when we do get the sea creatures,\" said Mavis. \" Oh, France, you do like it, don't you ? \" \" Oh, I like it all right,\" he answered, press- ing his nose against the thick glass ; \" but I wanted it to be waving weeds and mysterious wetness, like the Sabrina picture.\" The other three glanced at the picture which hung over the mantelpiece—Sabrina and the water-nymphs, drifting along among the water-weeds and water-lilies. There were words under the picture, and Francis dreamily began to say them :— \" Sabrina fair, Listen where thou art sitting Under the glassy cool translucent wave . .

WET MAGIC. 791 but there was no appeal against Aunt Enid, and they went, their grunts growing feebler as they crossed the room, and dying away in a despairing silence as they and Aunt Enid met abruptly at the top of the stairs. \" I say,\" said Mavis, when the click of the latch assured her that they were alone. \" How could it be magic ? We never said any spell.\" \" No more we did,\" said Francis, \" unless— and, besides, it's all nonsense, of course, about magic. It's just a game we play, isn't it ? \" \" Yes, of course,\" Mavis said, doubtfully; \" but what did you mean by ' unless ' ? \" \" We weren't saying any spells, were we ? \" \" No, of course we weren't. We weren't saying anything \" \" As it happens, 7 was.\" \" Was what ? When ? \" \" When it happened.\" \" What happened ? \" Will it be believed that Aunt Enid chose this moment for opening the door just wide enough to say, \"Mavis—bed !\" And Mavis had to go. But as she went she said again : '• What happened ? \" \" It,\" said Francis, whatever \"it\" was. \" I was saying \" \" Mavis'! \" called Aunt Enid. \" Yes, Aunt Enid. You were saying what f \" \" I was saying' Sabrina fair,' \" said Francis. \" Do you think—but of course it couldn't have been—and all dry like that; no water or anything.\" \" Perhaps magic has to be dry,\" said Mavis. \" Coming, Aunt Enid ! It seems to be mostly burning things, and of course that wouldn't do in the water. What did you see ? \" \"It looked like Sabrina,\" said Francis; \" only tiny, tiny. Not doll-small, you know —but live-small, like through the wrong end of a telescope. I do wish you'd seen it.\" \" Say ' Sabrina fair ' again quick, while I look.\" \" Sabrina fair, Listen where thou art sitting Under the Oh, Mavis, it is—it did ! There's something there, truly ! Look ! \" \" Where ? \" said Mavis. \" I can't see— oh, let me look ! \" \" MAVIS !\" called Aunt Enid, very loud indeed ; and Mavis tore herself away. \" I must go,\" she said. \" Never mind, we'll look again to-morrow. Oh, France—if it should be—magic, I mean—I'll tell you what \" But she never told him what, for Aunt Enid swept in and swept out, bearing Mavis away as it were in a whirlwind of impatient exasperation, and, without seeming to stop to do it, blowing out the four candles as she came and went. At the door she turned to say :— \" Good night, Francis. Your bath's turned on ready. Be sure you wash well behind your ears. Come—no nonsense,\" she paused at the door to say. \" Let me see you go.

792 THE STRAND MAGAZINE. as they stood waiting by the luggage-mound while Aunt Enid went to take the tickets, \" but why couldn't she have bought them at Beachfield ? \" There was a short, sharp struggle with the porter—a flustered pass- age along the platform —and the children were safe in the carriage marked \" Reserved \"- thrown into it, as it were, with the small fry of lug- gage. Then Aunt Enid book by Miss Marie Corelli. The children also had been provided with books : \" Eric, or Little by Little,\" \" Elsie, or Like a Littk Candle,\" \" Brave Bessie,\" and \" Ingenious Isabel \" had been dealt out before leaving 'A KKW l.Ahl IIOMK TRUTHS WITH TUB I'OKTtR.\" fussed off again to exchange a few last home truths with the porter, fussed back again, and the train started. When she had arranged the things in the rack to her satisfaction, she pointed out a few little faults that she had noticed in the children, and then settled down to read a home as though they were cards for a game. They had been a great bother to carry—and they were almost impossible to read. Kath- leen and Bernard presently preferred looking out of the windows—and the two elder ones picked up a paper that someone had left in the carriage and read it—looking over.

WET MAGIC. 793 Now that is just where it was. If some- body hadn't happened to leave that paper in their carriage, and if they hadn't been so bored with their books, they would never have seen it, because they weren't the sort of children who read papers except under extreme provocation. You will not find it easy to believe—and I myself can't see why it should have hap- pened—but the very first thing they saw in that newspaper was the following :— BEACHFIELD-ON-SEA. ALLEGED MERMAID. AMAZING STORY. At this season of the year, which has sometimes been designated the silly season, the public Press is deluged with puerile, old-world stories of gigantic gooseberries and enormous sea-serpents. So that it is quite in keeping with the weird traditions of this time of the year to find a story of some wonder of the deep arising even at so well-known a watering-place as Beachfield. Close to an excellent golf-course, and surrounded by various beauty-spots, with a thoroughly revised water- supply, a newly-painted jetty, and a constant round of beach entertainments, Beachfield has long been known as a rising plage of exceptional attractions, while the quaint charm of its \" Hold on ! \" said Francis. \" This isn't about any old mermaid.\" \" Oh, that'll be farther on,\" said Mavis. \" I expect they have to put all that stuff in to be polite to Beachfield. Let's skip— ' agreeable promenade '—' every modern con- venience '—' while preserving its quaint' What does ' quaint ' mean—and why do they keep on saying it ? Ah! got her. Here she is.\" Master Wilfred Wilson, the son of a well-known and respected resident, arrived home yesterday evening in tears. Inquiry elicited a statement that he had been paddling in the rock-pools which are to be found in such profusion under the West Cliff when something gently pinched one of his lower extremities. He feared that it might be a lobster—having read that these crustaceans sometimes attack the unwary intruder— and he uttered a cry of alarm. So far his narrative, though unusual, contains nothing inherently impossible. But when he proceeded to state that a noise \" like a lady speaking told him not to cry, and that, on look- ing down, he perceived that what detained him was a hand \" coming from one of the rocks under water,\" his statement was naturally received with some incredulity. It was not till a party returning from a pleasure trip westward in one of Messrs. Simpkins's well-known safety pleasure-boats stated that they had seen a curious sort of white seal with a dark tail darting through the clear water below their boat that Master Wilfred's story obtained any measure of credence. Mr. Wilson, who seems to have urged an early retirement to bed as a cure for telling stories and getting your feet wet, allowed his son to rise and conduct him to the scene of adventure. But Mr. Wilson, though he even went to the length of paddling in some of the pools, did not see or feel any hands, nor hear any noise, ladylike or otherwise. No doubt the seal theory is the correct one. A white seal would be a valuable acquisition to the town, and would, of course, attract visitors. Several boats have gone out, some with nets and some with lines, while Mr. Carrerras, a visitor

794 THE STRAND MAGAZINE. been wonderfully strong in Francis, for it completely swallowed the longing of years— the longing to see the sea. It had been too dark the night before to see anything but the winking faces of the houses as the fly went past them. But now, as he and Mavis ran noiselessly down the sandy path in their rubber shoes and turned the corner of the road, he saw a great pale grey something spread out in front of him, with points of red and gold fire on it where the sun touched it. When they got down to the shore the sands and the pebbles were all wet because the tide had just gone down—and there were the rocks and the little pools and the limpets and whelks and the little yellow periwinkles looking like particularly large Indian corn all scattered among the red and the brown and the green seaweed. \" Now this is jolly,\" said Francis. \" This is jolly, if you like. I almost wish we'd wakened the others. It doesn't seem quite fair.\" \" Oh, they've seen it before,\" Mavis said. quite truly ; \" and I don't think it's any good going by fours to look for mermaids, do you ? \" \" Besides,\" said Francis, saying what had been in their thoughts since yesterday in the train, \" Kathleen wanted to shoot mermaids, and Bernard thought it was seals anyhow.\" They had sat down and were hastily pulling off their shoes and stockings. \" Of course,\" said he, \" we sha'n't find any- thing. It isn't likely.\" \" Well,\" she said, \" for anything we jolly- well know they may have found her already. Take care how you go over these rocks— they're awfully slippery.\" \" As if I didn't know that,\" said he, and ran across the narrow strip of sand that divided rocks from shingle and set his foot for the first time in The Sea. It was only a shallow little green and white rock pool, but it was The Sea all the same. \" I say, isn't it cold ? \" said Mavis, with- drawing pink and dripping toes. \"• Do mind how you go— \" As if I \" said Francis again, and sat down suddenly and splashingly in a large, clear, sparkling pool. \" Now I suppose we've got to go home at once and you change,\" said Mavis. \" Nonsense ! \" said Francis, getting up with some difficulty, and clinging wetly to Mavis to steady himself. \" I'm quite dry, almost. Let's go out to the end of the rocks, just to see what it's like where the water gets deep and the seaweed goes swish, swish, all long and lank and grassy, like in the Sabrina picture.\" \" Half-way, then—not more,\" said Mavis firmly. \" It's dangerous-deep outside— mother said so.\" And half-way they went, Mavis still cautious. and Francis, after his wetting, almost show- ing off in his fine carelessness of whether he went in again or not. It was very jolly. \" Now,\" said Mavis,\" come on back. We'll run all the way as soon as we get our shoes

WET MAGIC. 795 mermaid, I mean; like salmon, that live in rivers and go down to the sea.\" \" I say, I never thought of that. How simply ripping if it turned out to be really Sabrina—wouldn't it be ? But which do you suppose could be her—the one who spoke to us or the one she's afraid will die in cap- tivity—the one she wants us to save ? \" They had reached the shore by now, and Mavis looked up to say:— \" I suppose we didn't really both fancy it ? Sha'll we tell the others ? \" \"We must,\" said Francis. Kathleen and Ber- nard met them at the gate, dancing with excitement and im- patience. \" Where have you been ? \" they cried, and \" Where on earth ? \" and \" Why, you're all wet, France ! \" \" Down to the sea— shut up—I know I am.\" Their elder brother came in and passed up the path to the gate. \" You might have called us,\" said Kath- leen, \" but, anyhow, you've lost something by going out so early without us.\" \" Lost something ? What ? \" \" Hearing the great news,\" said Bernard. \" What news ? \" \" Wouldn't you like to know ? \" Bernard was naturally annoyed at having been left out of the first expedition of. the holidays. Any- one would have been. Even you or I. \" Out with it,\" said Francis, with a hand on Bernard's ear. There came a yell from Bernard, and mother's voice from the window saying, \" Children, children ! \" \" Oh, don't,\" said Kathleen ; \" don't let's be snarky, the very first day, too. It's only that they've caught the mermaid we read about in the paper yesterday, and I'm afraid she'll die in captivity, like you said. What's yours ? \" Francis turned to Mavis. \" So that's it,\" he said, slowly. \" Who caught her ? \" \" The Lariat Man; and there's a circus going on and they've bought her. Mother says we may go and see her this afternoon. What's your news ? \" asked Kathleen, eagerly. \" After brekker,\" said Francis. \" Yes,

A Set of Nutcrackers. PUZZLES AND PROBLEMS. By HENRY E. DUDENEY. Illustrated by Geo. Morrow. F Asmodeus, of the \" Devil on Two Sticks,\" while perched with his com- panion on the village steeple, had raised the roof of Bollywood Hall last Christmas Eve, Don Cleofas would undoubtedly have supposed that the proup of men he beheld, making merry over their wine and cigars, represented a party of confirmed bachelors. For there were no empty chairs to indicate that ladies had retired. But he would have been wrong. It is true that the Squire, who was also the host, was a bachelor, but in early life death had robbed him of his bride, and he had remained faiihful to her memory. The Doctor and the Lawyer were both widowers. The Parson's wife was an invalid, and, a? her two sisters had just arrived on a short visit to her. he had tact- fully left them alone for the evening. The Professor's wife and family were abroad, and, as he had been prevented from accompanying them, he was spending a week with his old friend, the Squire. As for the Artist, the last and youngest of the party, he was engaged to be married to a young lady on her way home from India. Sowe can give them all clean certificates on the score of their attitude towards the sex which is rapidly asserting its un- questioned superiority. If we state that their ages ranged from sixty-one to thirty-two, in the order —Lawyer, Squire, Doctor, Parson. Professor, Artist, perhaps we have said all that need be said by way of introduction to the litt'e symposium we pro- pose to record. The Squire had been trying to explain to the company the exact re- lationship between himself and a certain living states- man, when the Parson broke into the conversa- tion. QUEER RELATIONSHIPS. \" Speaking of relationships,\" he said, \" our lejjis- lators are getting the marriage law into a frightful tangle. Here, for example, is a puzzling case that has come under my notice. Two brothers married two sisters. One man died and the other man's wife a!*o died. Then the survivors married.\" \" The man married his deceased wife's sister, under the recent Act ? \" put in the Lawyer. \" Exactly. And therefore, under the civil law. he is legally married and his child is legitimate. But, you see, the man is the woman's deceased husband's brother, and therefore, also under the civil law. she is not married to him and her child is illegitimate.\" \" He is married to her and she is not married to him ! \" said the Doctor. \" Quite so. And the child is the legitimate son of his father, hut the illegitimate son of his mother.\"

A SET OF NUTCRACKERS. 797 \"A BOY AND A GIRL. the youth corrected me, assuring me that, though he was the nephew of Stephen, he was not the nephew of Jane, the sister of Stephen. This perplexed me a good deal, but it is quite correct.\" The Lawyer was the first to get at the heart of the mystery. What was his solution ? Then lie stated the following in- teresting case :— A LEGAL DIFFICULTY. \" A client of mine was on the point of death when his wife was about to present him with -a child. I drew up his will, in which he settled two-thirds of his estate upon his son (if it should happen to be a boy) and one-third on the mother. But if the child should be a girl, then two-thirds of the estate should go to the mother and one-third to the daughter. As a matter of fact, after his death twins were born—a boy and a girl. A very nice point then arose. How was the estate to be equitably divided among the three in the closest possible accordance with the spirit of the dead man's will ? \" This led to considerable discussion, but all in the end agreed that the Lawyer's own solution of the difficulty was the most equitable that could be conceived. AN ARITHMETICAL QUESTION. \" By the way,\" said the Professor, \" perhaps some of you can give me the answer to this very simple arithmetical question : By what fractional part would you say that four-fourths exceeds three-fourths ? \" The innocent reader may be surprised that there could be any possible dispute over such a simple question, but though the company agreed to accept the Professor's decision (since he was a mathematician of repute), it was clear that the majority were convinced against their will. What is the correct answer ? THE DOCTOR'S QUERY. \" A curious little point occurred to me in my dis- pensary this morning.\" said the Doctor. \" I had a bottle containing ten ounces of spirits of wine, and another bottle containing ten ounces of water. I poured a quarter of an ounce of spirits into the water and shook them up together. The mixture was then clearly forty to one. Then I poured back a quarter- \" A CURIOUS LITTLE POINT OCCURRED TO ME IN MY DISPENSARY.\" ounce of the mixture, so lhat the two bottles should again each contain the same quantity of fluid. What proportion of spirits to water did the spirits of wine bottle then contain ? \" THE NEW PARTNER. \" As the Professor has given us the answer so promptly to the Doctor's question,\" said the Lawyer. \" I shall be grateful if he will clear up a little difficulty for me. A certain firm—I will call the partners' names Smugg and Williamson—have decided to take a Mr. Rogers into partnership. Smugg has one and a half times as much capital invested in the business as Williamson, and Rogers is to pay down £2,500. which sum shall be divided between Smugg and Williamson so that the three partners shall have an equal interest

798 THE STRAXD MAGAZINE. THE NINE ALMONDS. \" Here is a little puzzle,\" said the Parson, \" that I have found pecu- liarly fascinating. It is so simple, and yet it keeps you interested indefinitely.\" The reverend gentleman took a sheet of paper and divided it off into twenty - five squares, like a square portion of a chessboard. Then he placed nine almonds on the central squares, as shown in the illustration, where we have repre- sented numbered counters for con- venience in giving the solution. ''Now, the puzzle is.\" continued the Parson, \"to remove eight of the almonds and leave the ninth in the central square. You make the removals by jumping one almond over another to the vacant square beyond and taking off the one jumped over—just as in draughts, only here you can jump in any direction, and not diagonally only. You can also move from square to square, but the point is to do the thing in the fewest possible moves.\" The following specimen attempt will make every- thing clear. Jump 4 over r, 5 over 9, 3 over 6, 5 over 3, 7 over 5 and 2, 4 over 7, 8 over 4, and two more moves brings 8 to the central square. Remember to remove those you jump over. This does what is required in nine moves. Can you do it in fewer ? It will be noticed that any number of jumps in succession with the same almond count as one move. \" Very entertaining,\" said the Lawyer, after one or two attempts. \" I think these puzzles clear the brain, and so one ought to reap considerable benefit from them.\" A WEIGHING PUZZLE. \" And perhaps,\" the Doctor suggested, \" we lose many opportunities of amusement by taking our per- plexities too seriously. A little incident occurred to me the other day that might have caused me annoyance and irrita- tion, but I am a bit of a philosopher, and I turned the situation into an agreeable pastime. In other words, it gave me a pleasurable puzzle to solve.\" \" Pray let us hear what it was,\" said the Parson. \" Well, it was simply this. I had twenty ounces of a particular drug that I wished to put up into two-ounce packets for convenience in use. But my daughter, who had gone out for the day, had, for some purpose of her own, removed all my weights except the five-ounce and the nine-ounce. Of course, these two weights, with the scales, were sufficient for my purpose, but I did not want to waste time unnecessarily. I devised in a few minutes what I imagined was the shortest way of setting to work. But when I sat down in the evening to figure it out I discovered that I had not by any means hit on the best method. How many weighing operations

CURIOSITIES. [ ll'e shall lit glad to receive Contributions to this se- /ion, and to fay for snch as are acftpteJ. ] AN EXTRAORDINARY ORCHID. A LTHOUGH one would imagine this _/~\\ to be a big spider or scorpion, it is the photograph (three-quarters of the real size) of the flower of the scorpion-orchid —an orchid that even here in Java is not very common. Perhaps the readers of the \" Curiosities \" columns of your magazine will be pleased to see this photograph.—Capt. H. L. F. Vanger, Weltevreden, Java. AN OLD BELIEF PROVED WRONG. I MANAGED to secure this peculiar photo- graph when in camp at Salisbury Plain. Perhaps a little explanation will serve to show how interesting it is. I am an officer in the Transport Section of the Royal Army Medical Corps, East Lanes Division. Territorials, and this was a horse belonging (for the time being) to one of our sergeants. It was very difficult to groom, being such a kicker. Remembering th.it it is said that if you lift up one of a horse's legs he cannot kick, we thought we I have recently discovered an example which antedates Horsley's by at least three years. For this discovery I claim the proud distinction that it is the earliest English Christmas-card on record. This card was designed anil etched in 1842 by William Egley, whose signature, with date, will be found in the lower right-hand corner. Egley, who was born in 1798 and died in 1870, was a well-known miniature painter of his day, and one who was very successful in children's portraits. The Christ- mas-card was one of those pretty customs introduced into England about the time of the Prince Con- sort's marriage to Queen Victoria, though it had been in vogue in Germany for some centuries, cer- tainly from the days of Martin Luther.—Mr. C. Van Noorden, 35, Lincoln's Inn Fields, W.C. A FLEA-TRAP. I THINK most people would have to make many attempts before they guessed what purpose this little piece of cleverly-carved bamboo is meant to serve. It is a flea-trap, and is set in the following way. Remove the centre rod and smear it with some sticky sub- stance ; then replace it and put the trap in bed, or wherever fleas are prevalent. As will be seen, the sticky rod is prevented from coming into contact with the bed-clothes by the lattice-like covering. Traps of this kind are in great demand in this part of China.—Mr. Stanley A. Stencker, Chengtu, Szechuen Province, Western China. would be on the safe side with this one, so we hobbled his near

800 THE STRAXD MAGAZINE. 1 hiVJ \\\\ oi their trainer is a marvel to all who seen them perform.—Mr. H. E. Zimmerman, Mount Morris, Illinois, U.S.A. A UNIQUE HYBRID. CHINESE I'LANT CONTORTIONS. HERE is a photograph, taken in a Singapore garden, which shows a couple of examples of the horticultural curiosities in which the Chinese delight. In one instance the contortions of the stems of the plants are obtained by careful training and by binding with wire at the two places where most resistance is offered by the plant. In the other, the remarkably twisted steins are secured by grafting in four or five places. The nourishment of the foliage does not seem to be affected in cither case by the devious route the sap has to follow.— Mr. R. G. I'ash, c/o Singapore Oil Mills, Ltd., Singapore. ANTS THAT OUEY THEIR TRAINER. TH E accompanying illustration shows what it is possible to do with insects. These little creatures are what arc known as Madagascar ants, and their training is due to the patience and perseverance of Mr. John W. Coughlin, of Ellsworth, Maine, who is the recognized authority on natural history in that locality. The way in which they have been taught to perform military evolutions and to obey the will I HAVE been for some thirty years an extensive breeder of poultry- and peafowl of all varieties. On several occasions I have kept a peacock and a domestic hen in the same pen on the chance of their mating, but the chance has only \" come off \" once- This photograph shows the result. Only one egg of the sitting was fertile, and by good fortune the hybrid has thrived until it is now two years old. On the right is the mate parent, a black-shouldered peacock of full plumage, with the usual colourings; centre, the female parent, a domestic hen cross-bred from a Game and a Leghorn, white with , brown markings; and left, the offspring, J of the same colouring as the female parent. but with the brown more sparsely distributed, as the photograph shows. I have made extensive inquiries, both in Europe and in America, and have every reason to believe that the hybrid is absolutely unique.—Mr. R. P. Wheadon, llminster. Somerset. A TONGUE-TWISTER. A LTHOUGH I read this little history of /~\\ Bill and his board to several friends, hardly any grasped its meaning until they had read it themselves. I am sending it to you. —Bill had a bill board. Bill also had a board bill. The board bill borod Bill so Dill sold the bill board' \\o\\ pay Tiis board bill. So after Bill sold his bill board to pay his board ] bill the board bill no longer bored Bill.

PUR* GRAND CHRISTMAS DOUBLE NUMBER •ttf