College 
 
 Lib. 
 
 S4dr
 
 DREAM LIFE AND 
 REAL LIFE 
 
 A LITTLE AFRICAN STORY 
 
 PSEUDONYM LIBRARY
 
 THE 
 
 PSEUDONYM LIBRARY. 
 
 Pafer, 1/6 ; cloth, 2/-. 
 
 1. MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 2. STORY OF ELEANOR 
 
 LAMBERT. 
 
 3. MYSTERY OF THE CAM- 
 
 PAGNA. 
 
 4. THE SCHOOL OF ART. 
 
 5. AMARYLLIS. 
 
 6. HOTEL D'ANGLETERRE 
 
 7. A RUSSIAN PRIEST. 
 
 8. SOME EMOTIONS AND 
 
 AMORAL. 
 
 9. EUROPEAN RELA- 
 
 TIONS. 
 
 10. JOHN SHERMAN. 
 
 ix. THROUGH THE RED- 
 LITTEN WINDOWS. 
 
 12. GREEN TEA. 
 
 13. HEAVY LADEN. 
 
 14. MAKAR'S DREAM. 
 
 15. NEW ENGLAND CACTUS. 
 
 16. THE HERB OF LOVE. 
 
 17. THE GENERAL'S 
 
 DAUGHTER. 
 
 18. SAGHALIEN CONVICT. 
 
 10. GENTLEMAN UPCOTT'S 
 DAUGHTER. 
 
 ao. A SPLENDID COUSIN, 
 ai. COLETTE. 
 
 22. OTTILIE. 
 
 23. A STUDY IN TEMPTA- 
 
 TIONS. 
 
 24. THE CRUISE OF THE 
 
 "WILD DUCK." 
 
 25. SQUIRE HELLMAN. 
 
 26. A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 27. THETWOCOUNTESSES. 
 
 28. THE SINNER'S COMEDY. 
 
 29. CAVALLERIA RUSTICANA. 
 
 30. THE PASSING OF A MOOD. 
 
 31. GOD'S WILL. 
 
 30. DREAM LIFE & REAL LIFE.
 
 BY THE SAME A UTHOR. 
 
 DREAMS: 
 
 A Collection of Tales. 
 
 By OLIVE SCHaEIEB("EALPHIRON.") 
 4 th Ed. With Portrait. Cloth, 2s. 6d. 
 
 "There is much fine thought in 
 * Dreams.' " Speaker. 
 
 "There is a beautiful play of 
 fancy in Olive Schreiner's ' Dreams,' 
 and she has written them out in an 
 appropriate and graceful style. 
 Looked at as literature they are 
 good very good." Scotsman. 
 
 "They can be compared only 
 with the painted allegories of Mr. 
 Watts. Written in exquisite prose 
 they have the essential qualities of 
 poetry, and are, indeed, poems in 
 English. The book is like nothing 
 else in English." Athenaum. 
 
 "Of rare power and beauty. 
 Here and there both style and 
 thought are touchingly simple." 
 Academy. 
 
 "The book is full of power." 
 Literary World (Boston).
 
 B\' THE SAME AUTHOR. 
 
 DREAMS: 
 
 A Collection of Tales. 
 
 By OLIVE SCHREINER ("RALPH IRON." 
 4th Ed. With Portrait. Cloth, 2s. Gd. 
 
 "To write narrative prose of 
 such chastened strength, and lyrical 
 prose of such impassioned power, 
 is a distinction that few writers can 
 attain to." Vanity Fair. 
 
 " We cannot speak too highly of 
 the originality and power as well 
 as the literary excellence of her 
 book." Glasgow Herald. 
 
 "These sketches display much 
 power, insight, and depth of feeling. 
 Several of them are veritable prose 
 poems." Northern Daily News. 
 
 " In each case she gives us a 
 picture finished as the poet-painter 
 only knows how to finish it." Daily 
 Chronicle. 
 
 " Choicely- worded sketches. ' ' 
 Christian World. 
 
 " A book for the thoughtful and 
 imaginative." Globe. 
 
 LONDON : T. FISHER UNWIN.
 
 RALPH IRON 
 
 DREAM LIFE 
 
 AND 
 
 REAL LIFE 
 
 A LITTLE AFRICA^ STORY 
 
 BY THE AUTHOR OP 
 
 "DREAMS," "THE STORY OF AN 
 AFRICAN FARM,' &c. 
 
 LONDON 
 T. FISHER UNWIN 
 
 PATERNOSTER SQUARE 
 
 M DCCC XCIII
 
 COPYRIGHT. 
 
 Ail rights reserved.
 
 College 
 Library 
 
 "PR 
 
 5299 
 
 DEDICATION. 
 
 MY BROTHER FRED, 
 
 FOR WHOSE SCHOOL MAGAZINE THE 
 
 FIRST OF THESE LITTLE STORIES 
 
 ONE OF THE FIRST I EVER 
 
 MADE WAS WRITTEN OUT 
 
 MANY LONG YEARS 
 
 AGO. 
 
 R.I. 
 
 NEW COLLEGE, EASTBOURNE. 
 Sept. 2gtA, 1893.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 1. DREAM LIFE AND REAL 
 
 LIFE; A LITTLE AFRICAN 
 STORY ... !? 
 
 2. THE WOMAN'S ROSE . . c r 
 
 3. THE POLICY IN FAVOUR OF 
 
 PROTECTION " , . 57
 
 DREAM LIFE AND REAL 
 LIFE.
 
 DREAM LIFE AND 
 
 REAL LIFE ; A LITTLE 
 
 AFRICAN STORY. 
 
 ITTLE Jannita sat 
 alone beside a 
 milk-bush. Before 
 her and behind 
 her stretched the 
 plain, covered with red sand 
 and thorny "Karroo" bushes; 
 and here and there a milk- 
 bush, looking like a bundle 
 of pale green rods tied to- 
 gether. Not a tree was to 
 be seen anywhere, except on 
 the banks of the river, and
 
 14 DREAM LIFE AND REAL LIFE. 
 
 that was far away, and the 
 sun beat on her head. 
 Round her fed the Angora 
 goats she was herding; 
 pretty things, especially the 
 little ones, with white silky 
 curls that touched the 
 ground. But Jannita sat 
 crying. If an angel should 
 gather up in his cup all the 
 tears that have been shed, I 
 think the bitterest would be 
 those of children. 
 
 By and by she was so 
 tired, and the sun was so hot, 
 she laid her head against the 
 milk - bush, and dropped 
 asleep. 
 
 She dreamed a beauti- 
 ful dream. She thought 
 that when she went back
 
 DREAM LIFE AND REAL LIFE. 15 
 
 to the farmhouse in the 
 evening, the walls were 
 covered with vines and roses, 
 and the " kraals " (sheep/olds) 
 were not made of red stone, 
 but of lilac trees full of blos- 
 som. And the fat old Boer 
 smiled at her, and the stick 
 he held across the door for 
 the goats to jump over, was 
 a lily rod with seven blossoms 
 at the end. When she went 
 to the house her mistress 
 gave her a whole roaster- 
 cake for her supper, and 
 the mistress's daughter had 
 stuck a rose in the cake ; and 
 her mistress's son-in-law said 
 " Thank you ! " when she 
 pulled off his boots, and did 
 not kick her.
 
 1 6 DREAM LIFE AND REAL LIFE. 
 
 It was a beautiful dream. 
 
 While she lay thus dream- 
 ing, one of the little kids 
 came and licked her on her 
 cheek, because of the salt 
 from her dried-up tears. And 
 in her dream she was not a 
 poor indentured child any 
 more, living with Boers. 
 It was her father who kissed 
 her. He said he had only 
 been asleep that day when 
 he lay down under the thorn- 
 bush ; he had not really died. 
 He felt her hair, and said it 
 was grown long and silky, 
 and he said they would go 
 back to Denmark now. He 
 asked her why her feet were 
 bare, and what the marks on 
 her back were. Then he put
 
 her head on his shoulder, 
 and picked her up, and 
 carried her away, away ! She 
 laughed she could feel her 
 face against his brown beard. 
 His arms were so strong. 
 
 As she lay there dreaming 
 with the ants running over 
 her naked feet, and with her 
 brown curls lying in the sand, 
 a Hottentot came up to her. 
 He was dressed in ragged 
 yellow trousers, and a dirty 
 shirt, and torn jacket. He 
 had a red handkerchief round 
 his head, and a felt hat above 
 that. His nose was flat, his 
 eyes like slits, and the wool 
 on his head was gathered 
 into little round balls. He 
 came to the milk-bush, and
 
 1 8 DREAM LIFE AND REAL LIFE. 
 
 looked at the little girl lying 
 in the hot sun. Then he 
 walked off, and caught one of 
 the fattest little Angora goats, 
 and held its mouth fast, as he 
 stuck it under his arm. He 
 looked back to see that she 
 was still sleeping, and 
 jumped down into one of the 
 " sluits." (The deep fissures, 
 generally dry, in which the 
 superfluous torrents of water 
 are carried from the " Karroo " 
 plains after thunderstorms.) 
 He walked down the bed of 
 the " sluit " a little way and 
 came to an overhanging bank, 
 under which, sitting on the 
 red sand, were two men. 
 One was a tiny, ragged, old 
 bushman, four feet high ; the
 
 DREAM LIFE AND REAL LIFE. 19 
 
 other was an English navvy, 
 in a dark blue blouse. They 
 cut the kid's throat with the 
 navvy's long knife, and 
 covered up the blood with 
 sand, and buried the entrails 
 and skin. Then they talked, 
 and quarrelled a little; and 
 then they talked quietly 
 again. 
 
 The Hottentot man put a 
 leg of the kid under his coat 
 and left the rest of the meat 
 for the two in the " sluit," 
 and walked away. 
 
 When little Jannita awoke 
 it was almost sunset. She 
 sat up very frightened, but 
 her goats were all about her. 
 She began to drive them 
 home. " I do not think
 
 20 DREAM LIFE AND REAL LIFE. 
 
 there are any lost," she 
 said. 
 
 Dirk, the Hottentot, had 
 brought his flock home 
 already, and stood at the 
 " kraal " door with his ragged 
 yellow trousers. The fat old 
 Boer put his stick across the 
 door, and let Jannita's goats 
 jump over, one by one. He 
 counted them. When the 
 last jumped over : " Have you 
 been to sleep to-day ? " he 
 said ; " there is one missing." 
 
 Then little Jannita knew 
 what was coming, and she 
 said, in a low voice, " No." 
 And then she felt in her heart 
 that deadly sickness that you 
 feel when you tell a lie ; and 
 again she said, " Yes."
 
 DREAM LIFE AND REAL LIFE. 21 
 
 "Do you think you will 
 have any supper this even- 
 ing ? " said the Boer. 
 
 " No," said Jannita. 
 
 " What do you think you 
 will have ? " 
 
 " I don't know," said Jan- 
 nita. 
 
 " Give me your whip," said 
 the Boer to Dirk, the Hot- 
 tentot. 
 
 The moon was all but full 
 that night. Oh, but its light 
 was beautiful ! 
 
 The little girl crept to the 
 door of the outhouse where 
 she slept, and looked at it. 
 When you are hungry, and 
 very, very sore, you do not 
 cry. She leaned her chin on
 
 22 DREAM LIFE AND REAL LIFE. 
 
 one hand, and looked, with 
 her great dove's eyes the 
 other hand was cut open, 
 so she wrapped it in her 
 pinafore. She looked across 
 the plain at the sand and the 
 low karroo-bushes, with the 
 moonlight on them. 
 
 Presently, there came 
 slowly, from far away, a 
 wild spring-buck. It came 
 close to the house, and stood 
 looking at it in wonder, while 
 the moonlight glinted on its 
 horns, and in its great eyes. 
 It stood wondering at the 
 red brick walls, and the girl 
 watched it. Then, suddenly, 
 as if it scorned it all, it 
 curved its beautiful back and 
 turned ; and away it fled over
 
 DREAM LIFE AND REAL LIFE. 23 
 
 the bushes and sand, like a 
 sheeny streak of white light- 
 ning. She stood up to watch 
 it. So free, so free ! Away, 
 away ! She watched, till she 
 could see it no more on the 
 wide plain. 
 
 Her heart swelled, larger, 
 larger, larger : she uttered a 
 low cry ; and without wait- 
 ing, pausing, thinking, she 
 followed on its track. Away, 
 away, away ! " I I also ! " 
 she said, " I I also ! " 
 
 When at last her legs 
 began to tremble under her, 
 and she stopped to breathe, 
 the house was a speck behind 
 her. She dropped on the 
 earth, and held her panting 
 sides.
 
 24 DREAM LIFE AND REAL LIFE. 
 
 She began to think now. 
 
 If she stayed on the plain 
 they would trace her foot- 
 steps in the morning and 
 catch her; but if she waded 
 in the water in the bed of 
 the river they would not be 
 able to find her footmarks; 
 and she would hide, there 
 where the rocks and the 
 "kopjes" were. 
 
 (" Kopjes" in the karroo, are 
 hillocks of stones, that rise up 
 singly or in clusters, here and 
 there ; presenting sometimes the 
 fantastic appearance of old 
 ruined castles or giant graves, 
 the work of human hands.) 
 
 So she stood up and walked 
 towards the river. The water 
 in the river was low ; just a
 
 DREAM LIFE AND REAL LIFE. 25 
 
 line of silver in the broad 
 bed of sand, here and there 
 broadening into a pool. She 
 stepped into it, and bathed 
 her feet in the delicious cold 
 water. Up and up the stream 
 she walked, where it rattled 
 over the pebbles, and past 
 where the farmhouse lay ; 
 and where the rocks were 
 large, she leaped from one 
 to the other. The night 
 wind in her face made her 
 strong she laughed. She 
 had never felt such night 
 wind before. So the night 
 smells to the wild bucks, 
 because they are free ! A 
 free thing feels as a chained 
 thing never can. 
 
 At last she came to a place
 
 26 DREAM LIFE AND REAL LIFE. 
 
 where the willows grew on 
 each side of the river, and 
 trailed their long branches on 
 the sandy bed. She could 
 not tell why, she could 
 not tell the reason, but a 
 feeling of fear came over 
 her. 
 
 On the left bank rose a 
 chain of " kopjes " and a 
 precipice of rocks. Between 
 the precipice and the river 
 bank there was a narrow 
 path covered by the frag- 
 ments of fallen rock. And 
 upon the summit of the pre- 
 cipice a kippersol tree grew, 
 whose palm-like leaves were 
 clearly cut out against the 
 night sky. The rocks cast 
 a deep shadow, and the
 
 DREAM LIFE AND REAL LIFE. 27 
 
 willow trees, on either side 
 of the river. She paused, 
 looked up and about her, 
 and then ran on, fearful. 
 
 "What was I afraid of? 
 How foolish I have been ! " 
 she said, when she came to 
 a place where the trees were 
 not so close together. And 
 she stood still and looked 
 back and shivered. 
 
 At last her steps grew 
 wearier and wearier. She 
 was very sleepy now, she 
 could scarcely lift her feet. 
 She stepped out of the river- 
 bed. She only saw that the 
 rocks about her were wild, as 
 though many little " kopjes " 
 had been broken up and 
 strewn upon the ground, lay
 
 28 DREAM LIFE AND REAL LIFE. 
 
 down at the foot of an aloe, 
 and fell asleep. 
 
 But, in the morning, she 
 saw what a glorious place it 
 was. The rocks were piled 
 on one another, and tossed 
 this way and that. Prickly 
 pears grew among them, and 
 there were no less than six 
 kippersol trees scattered here 
 and there among the broken 
 " kopjes." In the rocks 
 there were hundreds of 
 homes for the coneys, and 
 from the crevices wild as- 
 paragus hung down. She 
 ran to the river, bathed in 
 the clear cold water, and 
 tossed it over her head. She
 
 DREAM LIFE AND REAL LIFE. 2Q 
 
 sang aloud. All the songs 
 she knew were sad, so she 
 could not sing them now, 
 she was glad, she was so 
 free; but she sang the 
 notes without the words, as 
 the cock-o-veets do. Sing- 
 ing and jumping all the way, 
 she went back, and took a 
 sharp stone, and cut at the 
 root of a kippersol, and got 
 out a large piece, as long as 
 her arm, and sat to chew it. 
 Two coneys came out on the 
 rock above her head and 
 peeped at her. She held 
 them out a piece, but they 
 did not want it, and ran 
 away. 
 
 It was very delicious to 
 her. Kippersol is like raw
 
 30 DREAM LIFE AND REAL LIFE. 
 
 quince, when it is very green; 
 but she liked it. When good 
 food is thrown at you by 
 other people, strange to say, 
 it is very bitter ; but what- 
 ever you find yourself is 
 sweet ! 
 
 When she had finished 
 she dug out another piece, 
 and went to look for a pantry 
 to put it in. At the top of 
 a heap of rocks up which she 
 clambered she found that 
 some large stones stood apart 
 but met at the top, making 
 a room. 
 
 "Oh, this is my little 
 home ! " she said. 
 
 At the top and all round 
 it was closed, only in the 
 front it was open. There
 
 DREAM LIFE AND REAL LIFE. 31 
 
 was a beautiful shelf in the 
 wall for the kippersol, and 
 she scrambled down again. 
 She brought a great branch 
 of prickly pear, and stuck it 
 in a crevice before the door, 
 and hung wild asparagus 
 over it, till it looked as 
 though it grew there. No 
 one could see that there was 
 a room there, for she left 
 only a tiny opening, and 
 hung a branch of feathery 
 asparagus over it. Then 
 she crept in to see how it 
 looked. There was a glorious 
 soft green light. Then she 
 went out and picked some 
 of those purple little ground 
 flowers you know them 
 those that keep their faces
 
 32 DREAM LIFE AND REAL LIFE. 
 
 close to the ground, but 
 when you turn them up and 
 look at them they are deep 
 blue eyes looking into yours ! 
 She took them with a little 
 earth, and put them in the 
 crevices between the rocks ; 
 and so the room was quite 
 furnished. Afterwards she 
 went down to the river and 
 brought her arms full of wil- 
 low, and made a lovely bed ; 
 and, because the weather 
 was very hot, she lay down 
 to rest upon it. 
 
 She went to sleep soon, 
 and slept long, for she was 
 very weak. Late in the after- 
 noon she was awakened by 
 a few cold drops falling on 
 her face. She sat up. A
 
 DREAM LIFE AND REAL LIFE. 33 
 
 great and fierce thunderstorm 
 had been raging, and a few 
 of the cool drops had fallen 
 through the crevice in the 
 rocks. She pushed the as- 
 paragus branch aside, and 
 looked out, with her little 
 hands folded about her knees. 
 She heard the thunder roll- 
 ing, and saw the red torrents 
 rush among the stones on 
 their way to the river. She 
 heard the roar of the river as 
 it now rolled, angry and red, 
 bearing away stumps and 
 trees on its muddy water. 
 She listened and smiled, and 
 pressed closer to the rock 
 that took care of her. She 
 pressed the palm of her hand 
 against it. When you have 
 3
 
 34 DREAM LIFE AND REAL LIFE. 
 
 no one to love you, you love 
 the dumb things very much. 
 When the sun set, it cleared 
 up. Then the little girl ate 
 some kippersol, and lay down 
 again to sleep. She thought 
 there was nothing so nice as 
 to sleep. When one has had 
 no food but kippersol juice 
 for two days, one doesn't 
 feel strong. 
 
 " It is so nice here," she 
 thought, as she went to sleep, 
 " I will stay here always." 
 
 Afterwards the moon rose. 
 The sky was very clear now, 
 there was not a cloud any- 
 where ; and the moon shone 
 in through the bushes in the 
 door, and made a lattice- 
 work of light on her face.
 
 DREAM LIFE AND REAL LIFE. 35 
 
 She was dreaming a beauti- 
 ful dream. The loveliest 
 dreams of all are dreamed 
 when you are hungry. She 
 thought she was walking in 
 a beautiful place, holding her 
 father's hand, and they both 
 had crowns on their head, 
 crowns of wild asparagus. 
 The people whom they 
 passed smiled and kissed her; 
 some gave her flowers, and 
 some gave her food, and the 
 sunlight was everywhere. 
 She dreamed the same 
 dream over and over, and it 
 grew more and more beauti- 
 ful ; till, suddenly, it seemed 
 as though she were standing 
 quite alone. She looked up : 
 on one side of her was the
 
 36 DREAM LIFE AND REAL LIFE. 
 
 high precipice, on the other 
 was the river, with the wil- 
 low trees, drooping their 
 branches into the water ; 
 and the moonlight was over 
 all. Up, against the night 
 sky the pointed leaves of the 
 kippersol trees were clearly 
 marked, and the rocks and 
 the willow trees cast dark 
 shadows. 
 
 In her sleep she shivered, 
 and half awoke. 
 
 " Ah, I am not there, I 
 am here," she said ; and she 
 crept closer to the rock, and 
 kissed it, and went to sleep 
 again. 
 
 It must have been about 
 three o'clock, for the moon 
 had begun to sink towards
 
 DREAM LIFE AND REAL LIFE. 37 
 
 the western sky, when she 
 woke, with a violent start. 
 She sat up, and pressed her 
 hand against her heart. 
 
 "What can it be ? A 
 coney must surely have run 
 across my feet and frightened 
 me ! " she said, and she 
 turned to lie down again ; 
 but soon she sat up. Out- 
 side, there was the distinct 
 sound of thorns crackling in 
 a fire. 
 
 She crept to the door and 
 made an opening in the 
 branches with her fingers. 
 
 A large fire was blazing in 
 the shadow, at the foot of 
 the rocks. A little Bush- 
 man sat over some burning 
 coals that had been raked
 
 38 DREAM LIFE AND REAL LIFE. 
 
 from it, cooking meat. 
 Stretched on the ground was 
 an Englishman, dressed in a 
 blouse, and with a heavy, 
 sullen face. On the stone 
 beside him was Dirk, the 
 Hottentot, sharpening a 
 bowie knife. 
 
 She held her breath. Not 
 a coney in all the rocks was 
 so still. 
 
 " They can never find me 
 here," she said ; and she 
 knelt, and listened to every 
 word they said. She could 
 hear it all. 
 
 " You may have all the 
 money," said the Bushman ; 
 " but I want the cask of 
 brandy. I will set the roof 
 alight in six places, for a
 
 DREAM LIFE AND REAL LIFE. 39 
 
 Dutchman burnt my mother 
 once alive in a hut, with 
 three children." 
 
 " You are sure there is no 
 one else on the farm ? " said 
 the navvy. 
 
 " No, I have told you till 
 I am tired," said Dirk; "the 
 two Kaffirs have gone with 
 the son to town ; and the 
 maids have gone to a dance ; 
 there is only the old man 
 and the two women left." 
 
 " But suppose," said the 
 navvy, " he should have the 
 gun at his bedside, and 
 loaded ! " 
 
 " He never has," said 
 Dirk ; " it hangs in the pas- 
 sage, and the cartridges too. 
 He never thought when he
 
 40 DREAM LIFE AND REAL LIFE. 
 
 bought it what work it was 
 for ! I only wish the little 
 white girl was there still," 
 said Dirk ; " but she is 
 drowned. We traced her 
 footmarks to the great pool 
 that has no bottom." 
 
 She listened to every 
 word, and they talked on. 
 
 Afterwards, the little Bush- 
 man, who crouched over the 
 fire, sat up suddenly, listen- 
 ing. 
 
 " Ha ! what is that ? " he 
 said. 
 
 A Bushman is like a dog : 
 his ear is so fine he knows a 
 jackal's tread from a wild 
 dog's. 
 
 " I heard nothing," said 
 the navvy.
 
 DREAM LIFE AND REAL LIFE. 41 
 
 " I heard," said the Hot- 
 tentot ; " but it was only a 
 coney on the rocks." 
 
 "No coney, no coney," 
 said the Bushman ; " see, 
 what is that there moving in 
 the shade round the point ? " 
 
 " Nothing! you idiot," said 
 the navvy. " Finish your 
 meat ; we must start now." 
 
 There were two roads to 
 the homestead. One went 
 along the open plain, and 
 was by far the shortest ; but 
 you might be seen half a 
 mile off. The other ran 
 along the river bank, where 
 there were rocks, and holes, 
 and willow-trees to hide 
 among. And all down the 
 river bank ran a little figure.
 
 42 DREAM LIFE AND REAL LIFE. 
 
 The river was swollen by 
 the storm full to its banks, 
 and the willow-trees dipped 
 their half-drowned branches 
 into its water. Wherever 
 there was a gap between 
 them, you could see it flow, 
 red and muddy, with the 
 stumps upon it. But the 
 little figure ran on and on ; 
 never looking, never think- 
 ing; panting, panting! There, 
 where the rocks were the 
 thickest ; there, where on the 
 open space the moonlight 
 shone ; there, where the 
 prickly pears were tangled, 
 and the rocks cast shadows, 
 on it ran; the little hands 
 clenched, the little heart beat- 
 ing, the eyes fixed always 
 ahead.
 
 DREAM LIFE AND REAL LIFE. 43 
 
 It was not far to run now* 
 Only the narrow path be- 
 tween the high rocks and the 
 river. 
 
 At last she came to the 
 end of it, and stood for an 
 instant. Before her lay the 
 plain, and the red farm- 
 house, so near, that if per- 
 sons had been walking there 
 you might have seen them in 
 the moonlight. She clasped 
 her hands. " Yes, I will tell 
 them, I will tell them ! " she 
 said ; " I am almost there ! " 
 She ran forward again, then 
 hesitated. She shaded her 
 eyes from the moonlight, and 
 looked. Between her and 
 the farm-house there were 
 three figures moving over 
 the low bushes.
 
 44 DREAM LIFE AND REAL LIFE. 
 
 In the sheeny moonlight 
 you could see how they 
 moved on, slowly and fur- 
 tively ; the short one, and 
 the one in light clothes, and 
 the one in dark. 
 
 "I cannot help them now!" 
 she cried, and sank down on 
 the ground, with her little 
 hands clasped before her. 
 
 " Awake, awake ! " said 
 the farmer's wife ; " I hear 
 a strange noise ; something 
 calling, calling, calling!" 
 
 The man rose, and went 
 to the window. 
 
 " I hear it also," he said ; 
 " surely some jackal's at the 
 sheep. I will load my gun 
 and go and see."
 
 DREAM LIFE AND REAL LIFE. 45 
 
 " It sounds to me like the 
 cry of no jackal," said the 
 woman ; and when he was 
 gone she woke her daughter. 
 
 " Come, let us go and make 
 a fire, I can sleep no more," 
 she said ; " I have heard a 
 strange thing to-night. Your 
 father said it was a jackal's 
 cry, but no jackal cries so. 
 It was a child's voice, and 
 it cried, ' Master, master, 
 wake ! ' " 
 
 The women looked at each 
 other ; then they went to the 
 kitchen, and made a great 
 fire; and they sang psalms 
 all the while. 
 
 At last the man came 
 back ; and they asked him, 
 " What have you seen ? "
 
 46 DREAM LIFE AND REAL LIFE. 
 
 "Nothing," he said, "but 
 the sheep asleep in their 
 kraals, and the moonlight 
 on the walls. And yet, it 
 did seem to me," he added, 
 "that far away near the 
 ' krantz ' [precipice] by the 
 river, I saw three figures 
 moving. And afterwards 
 it might have been fancy 
 I thought I heard the cry 
 again ; but since that, all 
 has been still there." 
 
 Next day a navvy had re- 
 turned to the railway works. 
 
 " Where have you been 
 so long ? " his comrades 
 asked. 
 
 " He keeps looking over 
 his shoulder," said one, " as
 
 DREAM LIFE AND REAL LIFE. 47 
 
 though he thought he should 
 see something there." 
 
 " When he drank his grog 
 to-day," said another, " he 
 let it fall, and looked round." 
 
 Next day, a small old 
 Bushman, and a Hottentot, 
 in ragged yellow trousers, 
 were at a wayside canteen. 
 When the Bushman had had 
 brandy, he began to tell how 
 something (he did not say 
 whether it was man, woman, 
 or child) had lifted up its 
 hands and cried for mercy; 
 had kissed a white man's 
 hands, and cried to him to 
 help it. Then the Hotten- 
 tot took the Bushman by the 
 throat, and dragged him out. 
 
 Next night, the moon rose
 
 48 DREAM LIFE AND REAL LIFE. 
 
 up, and mounted the quiet 
 sky. She was full now, and 
 looked in at the little home ; 
 at the purple flowers stuck 
 about the room, and the 
 kippersol on the shelf. Her 
 light fell on the willow trees, 
 and on the high rocks, and 
 on a little new-made heap 
 of earth and round stones. 
 Three men knew what was 
 under it ; and no one else 
 ever will. 
 
 Lily Kloof, 
 South Africa.
 
 THE WOMAN'S ROSE
 
 THE WOMAN'S ROSE. 
 
 HAVE an old, 
 brown, carved 
 
 k x > tne I"* i s 
 broken and tied 
 
 with a string. In 
 it I keep little squares of 
 paper, with hair inside, and 
 a little picture which hung 
 over my brother's bed when 
 we were children, and other 
 things as small. I have in 
 it a rose. Other women also 
 have such boxes where they 
 5*
 
 52 THE WOMAN'S ROSE. 
 
 keep such trifles, but no one 
 has my rose. 
 
 When my eye is dim, and 
 my heart grows faint, and 
 my faith in woman flickers, 
 and her present is an agony 
 to me, and her future a de- 
 spair, the scent of that dead 
 rose, withered for twelve 
 years, comes back to me. I 
 know there will be spring ; 
 as surely as the birds know 
 it when they see above the 
 snow two tiny, quivering 
 green leaves. Spring can- 
 not fail us. 
 
 There were other flowers 
 in the box once ; a bunch of 
 white acacia flowers, gathered 
 by the strong hand of a man, 
 as we passed down a village
 
 THE WOMAN'S ROSE. 53 
 
 street on a sultry afternoon, 
 when it had rained, and the 
 drops fell on us from the 
 leaves of the acacia trees. 
 The flowers were damp ; 
 they made mildew marks on 
 the paper I folded them in. 
 After many years I threw 
 them away. There is nothing 
 of them left in the box now, 
 but a faint, strong smell of 
 dried acacia, that recalls that 
 sultry summer afternoon ; 
 but the rose is in the box 
 still. 
 
 It is many years ago now ; 
 I was a girl of fifteen, and I 
 went to visit in a small up- 
 country town. It was young 
 in those days, and two days' 
 journey from the nearest
 
 54 THE WOMAN'S ROSE. 
 
 village ; the population con- 
 sisted mainly of men. A 
 few were married, and had 
 their wives and children, but 
 most were single. There 
 was only one young girl 
 there when I came. She 
 was about seventeen, fair, 
 and rather fully-fleshed ; she 
 had large dreamy blue eyes, 
 and wavy light hair ; full, 
 rather heavy lips, until she 
 smiled ; then her face broke 
 into dimples, and all her 
 white teeth shone. The 
 hotel-keeper may have had 
 a daughter, and the farmer 
 in the outskirts had two, 
 but we never saw them. 
 She reigned alone. All the 
 men worshipped her. She
 
 THE WOMAN'S ROSE. 55 
 
 was the only woman they 
 had to think of. They 
 talked of her on the " stoep," 
 at the market, at the hotel ; 
 they watched for her at 
 street corners ; they hated 
 the man she bowed to or 
 walked with down the street. 
 They brought flowers to the 
 front door; they offered her 
 their horses ; they begged 
 her to marry them when 
 they dared. Partly, there 
 was something noble and 
 heroic in this devotion of 
 men to the best woman they 
 knew; partly there was 
 something natural in it, that 
 these men, shut off from 
 the world, should pour at 
 the feet of one woman the
 
 56 THE WOMAN'S ROSE. 
 
 worship that otherwise would 
 have been given to twenty; 
 and partly there was some- 
 thing mean in their envy of 
 one another. If she had 
 raised her little finger, I 
 suppose, she might have 
 married any one out of 
 twenty of them. 
 
 Then I came. I do not 
 think I was prettier ; I do 
 not think I was so pretty as 
 she was. I was certainly 
 not as handsome. But I 
 was vital, and I was new, 
 and she was old they all 
 forsook her and followed 
 me. They worshipped me. 
 It was to my door that the 
 flowers came; it was I had 
 twenty horses offered me
 
 THE WOMAN'S ROSE. 57 
 
 when I could only ride one ; 
 it was for me they waited 
 at street corners ; it was 
 what I said and did that 
 they talked of. Partly I 
 liked it. I had lived alone 
 all my life ; no one ever 
 had told me I was beautiful 
 and a woman. I believed 
 them. I did not know it 
 was simply a fashion, which 
 one man had set and the 
 rest followed unreasoningly. 
 I liked them to ask me to 
 marry them, and to say, 
 No. I despised them. The 
 mother heart had not swelled 
 in me yet ; I did not know 
 all men were my children, 
 as the large woman knows 
 when her heart is grown.
 
 58 THE WOMAN'S ROSE. 
 
 I was too small to be tender. 
 I liked my power. I was 
 like a child with a new whip, 
 which it goes about crack- 
 ing everywhere, not caring 
 against what. I could not 
 wind it up and put it away. 
 Men were curious creatures, 
 who liked me, I could never 
 tell why. Only one thing 
 took from my pleasure ; I 
 could not bear that they had 
 deserted her for me. I liked 
 her great dreamy blue eyes, 
 I liked her slow walk and 
 drawl ; when I saw her 
 sitting among men, she 
 seemed to me much too 
 good to be among them ; I 
 would have given all their 
 compliments if she would
 
 THE WOMAN'S ROSE. 59 
 
 once have smiled at me as 
 she smiled at them, with 
 all her face breaking into 
 radiance, with her dimples 
 and flashing teeth. But I 
 knew it never could be ; I 
 felt sure she hated me ; that 
 she wished I was dead ; that 
 she wished I had never come 
 to the village. She did not 
 know, when we went out 
 riding, and a man who had 
 always ridden beside her 
 came to ride beside me, 
 that I sent him away ; that 
 once when a man thought 
 to win my favour by ridi- 
 culing her slow drawl before 
 me, I turned on him so 
 fiercely that he never dared 
 come before me again. I
 
 60 THE WOMAN'S ROSE. 
 
 knew she knew that at the 
 hotel men had made a bet 
 as to which was the prettier, 
 she or I, and had asked each 
 man who came in, and that 
 the one who had staked on 
 me won. I hated them for 
 it, but I would not let her 
 see that I cared about what 
 she felt towards me. 
 
 She and I never spoke to 
 each other. 
 
 If we met in the village 
 street we bowed and passed 
 on ; when we shook hands 
 we did so silently, and did 
 not look at each other. 
 But I thought she felt my 
 presence in a room just as 
 I felt hers. 
 
 At last the time for my
 
 THE WOMAN'S ROSE. 61 
 
 going came. I was to leave 
 the next day. Some one I 
 knew gave a party in my 
 honour, to which all the 
 village was invited. 
 
 It was midwinter; there 
 was nothing in the gar- 
 dens but a few dahlias 
 and chrysanthemums, and I 
 suppose that for two hun- 
 dred miles round there was 
 not a rose to be bought for 
 love or money. Only in the 
 garden of a friend of mine, 
 in a sunny corner between 
 the oven and the brick wall, 
 there was a rose tree grow- 
 ing which had on it one bud. 
 It was white, and it had been 
 promised to the fair haired 
 girl to wear at the party.
 
 62 THE WOMAN'S ROSE. 
 
 The evening came ; when 
 I arrived and went to the 
 waiting-room, to take off my 
 mantle, I found the girl 
 there already. She was 
 dressed in pure white, with 
 her great white arms and 
 shoulders showing, and her 
 bright hair glittering in 
 the candle - light, and the 
 white rose fastened at her 
 breast. She looked like a 
 queen. I said " Good 
 evening," and turned away 
 quickly to the glass to 
 arrange my old black scarf 
 across my old black dress. 
 
 Then I felt a hand touch 
 my hair. 
 
 " Stand still," she said. 
 
 I looked in the glass.
 
 THE WOMAN'S ROSE. 63 
 
 She had taken the white 
 rose from her breast, and 
 was fastening it in my 
 hair. 
 
 " How nice dark hair is ; 
 it sets off flowers so." She 
 stepped back and looked at 
 me. " It looks much better 
 there ! " 
 
 I turned round. 
 
 " You are so beautiful to 
 me," I said. 
 
 " Y-e-s," she said, with her 
 slow Colonial drawl ; " I'm 
 so glad." 
 
 We stood looking at each 
 other. 
 
 Then they came in and 
 swept us away to dance. All 
 the evening we did not come 
 near to each other. Only
 
 64 THE WOMAN'S ROSE. 
 
 once, as she passed, she 
 smiled at me. 
 
 The next morning I left 
 the town. 
 
 I never saw her again. 
 
 Years afterwards I heard 
 she had married and gone to 
 America ; it may or may 
 not be so but the rose the 
 rose is in the box still ! When 
 my faith in woman grows 
 dim, and it seems that for 
 want of love and magnanimity 
 she can play no part in any 
 future heaven ; then the scent 
 of that small withered thing 
 comes back : spring cannot 
 fail us. 
 
 Matjesfontetn, 
 South Africa.
 
 "THE POLICY IN FAVOUR 
 OF PROTECTION ." 
 
 Was it Right? Was it Wrong?
 
 "THE POLICY IN FAVOUR 
 OF PROTECTION ." 
 
 Was it Right? Was it Wrong? 
 
 WOMAN sat at 
 her desk in the 
 corner of a room ; 
 behind her a fire 
 burnt brightly. 
 Presently a servant came 
 in and gave her a card. 
 
 " Say I am busy and can 
 see no one now. I have to 
 finish this article by two 
 o'clock." 
 
 The servant came back. 
 The caller said she would 
 only keep her a moment: it 
 
 7
 
 68 "THE POLICY IN FAVOUR 
 
 was necessary she should see 
 her. 
 
 The woman rose from her 
 desk. " Tell the boy to wait. 
 Ask the lady to come in." 
 
 A young woman in a silk 
 dress, with a cloak reaching 
 to her feet, entered. She 
 was tall and slight, with fair 
 hair. 
 
 " I knew you would not 
 mind. I wished to see you 
 so!" 
 
 The woman offered her a 
 seat by the fire. " May I 
 loosen your cloak ? the 
 room is warm." 
 
 " I wanted so to come and 
 see you. You are the only 
 person in the world who 
 could help me 1 I know you
 
 OF PROTECTION ." 69 
 
 are so large, and generous, 
 and kind to other women ! " 
 She sat down. Tears stood 
 in her large blue eyes: she 
 was pulling off her little 
 gloves unconsciously. 
 
 "You know Mr. " 
 
 (she mentioned the name of 
 a well-known writer) : "I 
 know you meet him often in 
 your work. I want you to 
 do something for me ! " 
 
 The woman on the hearth- 
 rug looked down at her. 
 
 " I couldn't tell my father 
 or my mother, or any one 
 else; but I can tell you, 
 though I know so little of 
 you. You know, last sum- 
 mer he came and stayed 
 with us a month. I saw a
 
 70 "THE POLICY m FAVOUR 
 
 great deal of him. I don't 
 know if he liked me ; I know 
 he liked my singing, and we 
 rode together I liked him 
 more than any man I have 
 ever seen. Oh, you know it 
 isn't true that a woman can 
 only like a man when he 
 likes her ; and I thought, 
 perhaps, he liked me a little. 
 Since we have been in town 
 we have asked, but he has 
 never come to see us. Per- 
 haps people have been say- 
 ing something to him about 
 me. You know him, you 
 are always meeting him, 
 couldn't you say or do any- 
 thing for me ? " She looked 
 up with her lips white and 
 drawn. " I feel sometimes
 
 OF PROTECTION ." 71 
 
 as if I were going mad ! Oh, 
 it is so terrible to be a 
 woman ! " The woman 
 looked down at her. " Now 
 I hear he likes another 
 woman. I don't know who 
 she is, but they say she is 
 so clever, and writes. Oh, 
 it is so terrible, I can't bear 
 it." 
 
 The woman leaned her 
 elbow against the mantel- 
 piece, and her face against 
 her hand. She looked down 
 into the fire. Then she 
 turned and looked at the 
 younger woman. " Yes," 
 she said, " it is a very 
 terrible thing to be a 
 woman." She was silent. 
 She said with some diffi-
 
 72 "THE POLICY IN FAVOUR 
 
 culty: "Are you sure you 
 love him ! Are you sure it 
 is not only the feeling a 
 young girl has for an older 
 man who is celebrated, and 
 of whom every one is talk- 
 ing." 
 
 " I have been nearly mad. 
 I haven't slept for weeks ! " 
 She knit her little hands to- 
 gether, till the jewelled rings 
 almost cut into the fingers. 
 " He is everything to me ; 
 there is nothing else in the 
 world. You, who are so 
 great, and strong, and clever, 
 and who care only for your 
 work, and for men as your 
 friends, you cannot under- 
 stand what it is when one 
 person is everything to you,
 
 OF PROTECTION ." 73 
 
 when there is nothing else in 
 the world ! " 
 
 "And what do you want 
 me to do ? " 
 
 " Oh, I don't know ! " She 
 looked up. "A woman 
 knows what she can do. 
 Don't tell him that I love 
 him." She looked up again. 
 "Just say something to him. 
 Oh, it's so terrible to be a 
 woman ; I can't do anything. 
 You won't tell him exactly 
 that I love him? That's 
 the thing that makes a man 
 hate a woman, if you tell it 
 him plainly." 
 
 " If I speak to him I must 
 speak openly. He is my 
 friend. I cannot fence with 
 him. I have never fenced
 
 74 THE POLICY IN FAVOUR 
 
 with him in my own affairs." 
 She moved as though she 
 were going away from the 
 fireplace, then she turned 
 and said : " Have you 
 thought of what love is 
 between a man and a woman 
 when it means marriage ? 
 That long, long life together, 
 day after day, stripped of all 
 romance and distance, living 
 face to face : seeing each 
 other as a man sees his own 
 soul ? Do you realise that 
 the end of marriage is to 
 make the man and woman 
 stronger than they were ; 
 and that if you cannot, when 
 you are an old man and 
 woman and sit by the fire, 
 say, ' Life has been a braver
 
 OF PROTECTION ." 75 
 
 and a freer thing for us, 
 because we passed it hand in 
 hand, than if we had passed 
 through it alone,' it has 
 failed ? Do you care for 
 him enough to live for him, 
 not to-morrow, but when he 
 is an old, faded man, and you 
 an old, faded woman ? Can 
 you forgive him his sins and 
 his weaknesses, when they 
 hurt you most ? If he were 
 to lie a querulous invalid for 
 twenty years, would you be 
 able to fold him in your 
 arms all that time, and 
 comfort him, as a mother 
 comforts her little child ? " 
 The woman drew her breath 
 heavily. 
 
 " Oh, I love him abso-
 
 76 "THE POLICY IN FAVOUR 
 
 lutely ! I would be glad to 
 die, if only I could once know 
 that he loved me better than 
 anything in the world ! " 
 
 The woman stood looking 
 down at her. " Have you 
 never thought of that other 
 woman ; whether she could 
 not perhaps make his life 
 as perfect as you ? " she 
 asked, slowly. 
 
 " Oh, no woman ever 
 could be to him what I 
 would be. I would live for 
 him. He belongs to me." 
 She bent herself forward, 
 not crying, but her shoulders 
 moving. " It is such a ter- 
 rible thing to be a woman, 
 to be able to do nothing and 
 say nothing ! "
 
 OF PROTECTION ." 77 
 
 The woman put her hand 
 on her shoulder ; the younger 
 woman looked up into her 
 face; then the elder turned 
 away and stood looking into 
 the fire. There was such 
 quiet, you could hear the 
 clock tick above the writing- 
 table. 
 
 The woman said: "There 
 is one thing I can do for 
 you. I do not know if it 
 will be of any use I will 
 do it." She turned away. 
 
 " Oh, you are so great and 
 good, so beautiful, so dif- 
 ferent from other women, 
 who are always thinking 
 only of themselves ! Thank 
 you so much. I know I 
 can trust you. I couldn't
 
 78 "THE POLICY IN FAVOUR 
 
 have told my mother, or 
 any one but you." 
 
 " Now you must go ; I 
 have my work to finish." 
 
 The younger woman put 
 her arms round her. " Oh, 
 you are so good and beau- 
 tiful ! " 
 
 The silk dress and the fur 
 cloak rustled out of the 
 room. 
 
 The woman who was left 
 alone walked up and down, 
 at last faster and faster, till 
 the drops stood on her fore- 
 head. After a time she went 
 up to the table : there was 
 written illegibly in a man's 
 hand on a fragment of manu- 
 script paper : " Can I come 
 to see you this afternoon ? "
 
 OF PROTECTION / 79 
 
 Near it was a closed and ad- 
 dressed envelope. She opened 
 it. In it were written the 
 words : " Yes, please, come." 
 
 " She tore it across and 
 wrote the words : " No, I 
 shall not be at liberty." 
 
 She closed them in an en- 
 velope and addressed them. 
 Then she rolled up the 
 manuscript on the table and 
 rang the bell. She gave it 
 to the servant. "Tell the 
 boy to give this to his 
 master, and say the article 
 ends rather abruptly; they 
 must state it is to be con- 
 tinued ; I will finish it to- 
 morrow. As he passes No. 
 20 let him leave this note 
 there."
 
 8o "THE POLICY IN FAVOUR 
 
 The servant went out. She 
 walked up and down with 
 her hands folded above her 
 head. 
 
 Two months after, the 
 older woman stood before 
 the fire. The door opened 
 suddenly, and the younger 
 woman came in. 
 
 "I had to come I couldn't 
 wait. You have heard, he 
 was married this morning? 
 Oh, do you think it is true ? 
 Do help me ! " She put out 
 her hands. 
 
 "Sit down. Yes, it is 
 quite true." 
 
 " Oh, it is so terrible, and 
 I didn't know anything ! 
 Did you ever say anything
 
 OF PROTECTION ." 8 1 
 
 to him ? " She caught the 
 woman's hands. 
 
 " I never saw him again 
 after the day you were here 
 so I could not speak to 
 him but I did what I 
 could." She stood looking 
 passively into the fire. 
 
 "And they say she is quite 
 a child, only eighteen. They 
 say he only saw her three 
 times before he proposed to 
 her. Do you think it is true?" 
 
 " Yes, it is quite true." 
 
 " He can't love her. They 
 say he's only marrying her 
 for her rank and her 
 money." 
 
 The woman turned quickly. 
 "What right have you to 
 say that ? No one but me 
 6
 
 82 "THE POLICY IN FAVOUR 
 
 knows him. What need has 
 he of any one's rank or 
 wealth ? He is greater than 
 them all ! Older women 
 may have failed him ; he 
 has needed to turn to her 
 beautiful, fresh, young life 
 to compensate him. She is 
 a woman whom any man 
 might have loved, so young 
 and beautiful ; her family 
 are famed for their intel- 
 lect. If he trains her, she 
 may make him a better wife 
 than any other woman would 
 have done." 
 
 " Oh, but I can't bear it I 
 can't bear it ! " The younger 
 woman sat down in the chair. 
 " She will be his wife, and 
 have his children."
 
 OF PROTECTION ." 83 
 
 "Yes." The elder wo- 
 man moved quickly. "One 
 wants to have the child, 
 and lay its head on one's 
 breast and feed it." She 
 moved quickly. "It would 
 not matter if another woman 
 bore it, if one had it to 
 take care of." She moved 
 restlessly. 
 
 " Oh, no, I couldn't bear 
 it to be hers. When I think 
 of her I feel as if I were 
 dying ; all my fingers turn 
 cold ; I feel dead. Oh, you 
 were only his friend ; you 
 don't know ! " 
 
 The older spoke softly and 
 quickly, " Don't you feel a 
 little gentle to her when you 
 think she's going to be his
 
 84 "THE POLICY IN FAVOUR 
 
 wife and the mother of his 
 child? I would like to 
 put my arms round her and 
 touch her once, if she would 
 let me. She is so beautiful, 
 they say." 
 
 " Oh, I could never bear 
 to see her ; it would kill me. 
 And they are so happy to- 
 gether to-day ! He is loving 
 her so ! " 
 
 " Don't you want him to 
 be happy?" The older woman 
 looked down at her. " Have 
 you never loved him, at 
 all ? " 
 
 The younger woman's face 
 was covered with her hands. 
 " Oh, it's so terrible, so dark! 
 and I shall go on living year 
 after year, always in this
 
 OF PROTECTION ." 85 
 
 awful pain ! Oh, if I could 
 only die ! " 
 
 The older woman stood 
 looking into the fire ; then 
 slowly and measuredly she 
 said, "There are times, in 
 life, when everything seems 
 dark, when the brain reels, 
 and we cannot see that there 
 is anything but death. But, 
 if we wait long enough, after 
 long, long years, calm comes. 
 It may be we cannot say it 
 was well ; but we are con- 
 tented, we accept the past. 
 The struggle is ended. That 
 day may come for you, 
 perhaps sooner than you 
 think." She spoke slowly, 
 and with difficulty. 
 
 " No, it can never come
 
 86 ''THE POLICY IN FAVOUR 
 
 for me. If once I have loved 
 a thing, I love it for ever. I 
 can never forget." 
 
 " Love is not the only end 
 in life. There are other 
 things to live for." 
 
 " Oh yes, for you ! To me 
 love is everything ! " 
 
 " Now, you must go, dear." 
 
 The younger woman stood 
 up. " It has been such a 
 comfort to talk to you. I 
 think I should have killed 
 myself if I had not come. 
 You help me so. I shall 
 always be grateful to you." 
 
 The older woman took her 
 hand. 
 
 " I want to ask something 
 of you?" 
 
 "What is it?"
 
 OF PROTECTION ." 87 
 
 " I cannot quite explain to 
 you. You will not under- 
 stand. But there are times 
 when something more terrible 
 can come into a life than that 
 it should lose what it loves. 
 If you have had a dream of 
 what life ought to be, and 
 you try to make it real, and 
 you fail ; and something you 
 have killed out in your heart 
 for long years wakes up and 
 cries, ' Let each man play 
 his own game, and care noth- 
 ing for the hand of his fellow ! 
 Each man for himself. So 
 the game must be played ! ' 
 and you doubt all you have 
 lived for, and the ground 
 seems washing out under 
 your feet " She paused.
 
 88 "THE POLICY IN FAVOUR 
 
 " Such a time has come to 
 me now. If you would pro- 
 mise me that if ever another 
 woman comes to seek your 
 help, you will give it to her, 
 and try to love her for my 
 sake, I think it will help 
 me. I think I should be 
 able to keep my faith." 
 
 "Oh, I will do anything 
 you ask me to. You are so 
 good and great." 
 
 " Oh, good and great ! 
 if you knew ! Now go, dear." 
 
 " I have not kept you from 
 your work, have I ? " 
 
 " No ; I have not been 
 working lately. Good-bye, 
 dear." 
 
 The younger woman went ; 
 and the elder knelt down by
 
 OF PROTECTION ." 89 
 
 the chair, and wailed like a 
 little child when you have 
 struck it and it does not dare 
 to cry loud. 
 
 A year after ; it was early 
 spring again. 
 
 The woman sat at her desk 
 writing ; behind her the fire 
 burnt brightly. She was 
 writing a leading article on 
 the causes .which in differing 
 peoples lead to the adoption 
 of Free Trade or Protectionist 
 principles. 
 
 The woman wrote on 
 quickly. After awhile the 
 servant entered and laid a 
 pile of letters on the table. 
 "Tell the boy I shall have 
 done in fifteen minutes." She
 
 go "THE POLICY IN FAVOUR 
 
 wrote on. Then she caught 
 sight of the writing on one of 
 the letters. She put down 
 her pen, and opened it. It 
 ran so : 
 
 "DEAR FRIEND, I am 
 writing to you, because I 
 know you will rejoice to hear 
 of my great happiness. Do 
 you remember how you told 
 me that day by the fire to 
 wait, and after long, long 
 years I should see that all 
 was for the best ? That time 
 has come sooner than we 
 hoped. Last week in Rome 
 I was married to the best, 
 noblest, most large-hearted 
 of men. We are now in 
 Florence together. You don't 
 know how beautiful all life is
 
 OF PROTECTION . ' 9 1 
 
 to me. I know now that the 
 old passion was only a girl's 
 foolish dream. My husband 
 is the first man I have ever 
 truly loved. He loves me 
 and understands me as no 
 other man ever could. I am 
 thankful that my dream was 
 broken ; God had better 
 things in store for me. I 
 don't hate that woman any 
 more ; I love every one ! How 
 are you, dear ? We shall 
 come and see you as soon as 
 we arrive in England. I 
 always think of you so happy 
 in your great work and help- 
 ing other people. I don't 
 think now it is terrible to be 
 a woman ; it is lovely. 
 
 " I hope you are enjoying
 
 92 "THE POLICY IN FAVOUR 
 
 this beautiful spring weather. 
 " Yours always full of gra- 
 titude and love, 
 
 The woman read the letter: 
 then she stood up and walked 
 towards the fire. She did 
 not re-read it, but stood with 
 it open in her hand, looking 
 down into the blaze. Her 
 lips were drawn in at the 
 corners. Presently she tore 
 the letter up slowly, and 
 watched the bits floating 
 down one by one into the 
 grate. Then she went back 
 to her desk, and began to 
 write, with her mouth still 
 drawn in at the corners. 
 After awhile she laid her arm
 
 OF PROTECTION . 93 
 
 on the paper and her head 
 on her arm, and seemed to 
 go to sleep there. 
 
 Presently the servant 
 knocked ; the boy was wait- 
 ing. " Tell him to wait ten 
 minutes more." She took 
 
 up her pen " The Policy 
 
 of the Australian Colonies in 
 favour of Protection is easily 
 
 understood " she waited 
 
 " when one considers the 
 
 fact the fact " ; then 
 
 she finished the article. 
 
 Cape Town, 
 South Africa, 1892. 
 
 UNWIN BROTHERS, CHILWORTH AND LONDON.
 
 flYERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY, LOS > 
 
 QOLLEGE LIBRARY 
 
 This book is due on the last date stamped belo 1 
 
 
 
 
 
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 A 001 165 199 9 
 
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 UCLA-College Library 
 
 PR 5299 S4dr 
 
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