THE SHADRACH 
 
 AND OTHER STORIES 
 
 BY 
 
 FRANK R STOCKTON 
 
 LONDON 
 
 W H ALLEN & CO LIMITED 
 
 13 WATERLOO PLACE S\V 
 1893 
 
WYMAN AND SONS, LIMITED 
 
 PRINTERS, 
 LONDON AND REDHILL. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 THE SHADRACH ... i 
 
 ASAPH 41 
 
 MY TERMINAL MORAINE ... 107 
 
 THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELATIVE EXISTENCES ... 177 
 
 THE KNIFE THAT KILLED Po HANCY 190 
 
 THE KEY. EZEKIEL CRUMP 222 
 
 GRANDISON S QUANDARY 255 
 
 3687 
 
THE SHADRACH 
 
 AND OTHER STORIES. 
 
 THE SHADRACH. 
 
 I make a Christmas present I 
 like it to mean something, not necessarily 
 my sentiments toward the person to whom I give 
 it, but sometimes an expression of what I should 
 like that person to do or to be. In the early part 
 of a certain winter not very long ago, I found my 
 self in a position of perplexity and anxious con 
 cern regarding a Christmas present which I wished 
 to make. 
 
 The state of the case was this. There was a 
 young lady, the daughter of a neighbour and old 
 friend of my father, who had been gradually as- 
 
2 THE SHADRACH. 
 
 suming relations towards me which were not only 
 unsatisfactory to me, but were becoming more and 
 more so. Her name was Mildred Bronce. She 
 was between twenty and twenty-five years of age, 
 and as fine a woman in every way as one would be 
 likely to meet in a lifetime. She was handsome, 
 of a tender and generous disposition, a fine intelli 
 gence, and a thoroughly well-stocked mind. We 
 had known each other for a long time, and when 
 fourteen or fifteen, Mildred had been my favourite 
 companion. She was a little younger than I, and 
 I liked her better than any boy I knew. Our 
 friendship had continued through the years, but of 
 late there had been a change in it ; Mildred had 
 become very fond of me, and her fondness seemed 
 to have in it certain elements which annoyed me. 
 
 As a girl to make love to no one could be better 
 than Mildred Bronce ; but I never made love to 
 her at least not earnestly and I did not wish 
 that any permanent condition of loving should be 
 established between us. Mildred did not seem to 
 share this opinion, for every day it became plainer 
 to me that she looked upon me as a lover, and that 
 she was perfectly willing to return my affection. 
 
THE SHADRACH. 3 
 
 But I had other ideas upon the subject. Into the 
 rural town in which my family passed the greater 
 part of the year there had recently come a young 
 lady, Miss Janet Clinton, to whom my soul went 
 out of my own option. In some respects, perhaps, 
 she was not the equal of Mildred, but she was very 
 pretty, she was small, she had a lovely mouth, was 
 apparently of a clinging nature, and her dark eyes 
 looked into mine with a tingling effect that no 
 other eyes had ever produced. I was in love with 
 her because I wished to be, and the consciousness 
 of this fact caused me a proud satisfaction. This 
 affair was not the result of circumstances, but of 
 my own free will. 
 
 I wished to retain Mildred s friendship, I wished 
 to make her happy ; and with this latter intent in 
 view I wished very much that she should not dis 
 appoint herself in her anticipations of the future. 
 
 Each year it had been my habit to make Mildred 
 a Christmas present, and I was now looking for 
 something to give her which would please her and 
 suit my purpose. 
 
 When a man wishes to select a present for a 
 
 lady which, while it assures her of his kind feeling 
 
 B 2 
 
4 THE SHADRACH. 
 
 toward her, will at the same time indicate that not 
 only has he no matrimonial inclinations in her 
 direction, but that it would be entirely unwise 
 for her to have any such inclinations in his 
 direction ; that no matter with what degree of 
 fondness her heart is disposed to turn toward 
 him, his heart does not turn toward her, and that, 
 in spite of all sentiments induced by long associa 
 tion and the natural fitness of things, she need 
 never expect to be to him anything more than 
 a sister, he has, indeed, a difficult task before 
 him. But such was the task which I set for 
 myself. 
 
 Day after day I wandered through the shops. 
 I looked at odd pieces of jewellry and bric-a-brac, 
 and at many a quaint relic or bit of art work 
 which seemed to have a meaning; but nothing had 
 the meaning I wanted. As to books, I found none 
 which satisfied me ; not one which was adapted to 
 produce the exact impression that I desired. 
 
 One afternoon I was in a little basement shop 
 kept by a fellow in a long overcoat, who, so far as 
 I was able to judge, bought curiosities but never 
 sold any. For some minutes I had been looking 
 
THE SHADRACH. 5 
 
 at a beautifully decorated saucer of rare workman 
 ship for which there was no cup to match, and for 
 which the proprietor informed me no cup could 
 now be found or manufactured. There were some 
 points in the significance of an article of this sort, 
 given as a present to a lady, which fitted to my 
 purpose, but it would signify too much : I did not 
 wish to suggest to Mildred that she need never ex 
 pect to find a cup. It would be better, in fact, if I 
 gave her anything of this kind, to send her a cup 
 and saucer entirely unsuited to each other, and 
 which could not, under any conditions, be used 
 together. 
 
 I put down the saucer, and continued my search 
 among the dusty shelves and cases. 
 
 " How would you like a paper-weight ? " the 
 shopkeeper asked. " Here is something a little 
 odd," handing me a piece of dark-coloured mineral 
 nearly as big as my fist, flat on the underside and 
 of a pleasing irregularity above. Around the 
 bottom was a band of arabesque work in some 
 dingy metal, probably German silver. I smiled as 
 I took it. 
 
 " This is not good enough for a Christmas 
 
6 THE SHADRACH. 
 
 present," I said. " I want something odd, but it 
 must have some value." 
 
 " Well," said the man, " that has no real value, 
 but there is a peculiarity about it which interested 
 me when I heard of it, and so I bought it. This 
 mineral is a piece of what the iron-workers call 
 shadrach. It is a portion of the iron or iron ore 
 which passes through the smelting-furnaces with 
 out being affected by the great heat, and so they 
 have given it the name of one of the Hebrew 
 youths who was cast into the fiery furnace by 
 Nebuchadnezzar, and who came out unhurt. 
 Some people think there is a sort of magical 
 quality about this shadrach, and that it can give 
 out to human beings something of its power to 
 keep their minds cool when they arc in danger of 
 being overheated. The old gentleman who had 
 this made was subject to fits of anger, and he 
 thought this piece of shadrach helped to keep him 
 from giving way to them. Occasionally he used 
 to leave it in the house of a hot-tempered neigh 
 bour, believing that the testy individual would be 
 cooled down for a time, without knowing how the 
 change had been brought about. I bought a lot 
 
THE SHADRACH. 7 
 
 of things of the old gentleman s widow, and this 
 among them. I thought I might try it some 
 time, but I never have." 
 
 I held the shadrach in my hand, ideas concern 
 ing it rapidly flitting through my mind. Why 
 would not this be a capital thing to give to 
 Mildred? If it should, indeed, possess the quality 
 ascribed to it ; if it should be able to cool her 
 liking for me, what better present could I give 
 her ? I did not hesitate long. 
 
 " I will buy this," I said ; " but the ornamentation 
 must be of a better sort. It is now too cheap and 
 tawdry-looking." 
 
 " I can attend to that for you," said the shop 
 keeper. " I can have it set in a band of gold or 
 silver filigree-work like this, if you choose." 
 
 I agreed to this proposition, but ordered the 
 band to be made of silver, the cool tone of that 
 metal being more appropriate to the characteristics 
 of the gift than the warmer hues of gold. 
 
 When I gave my Christmas present to Mildred 
 she was pleased with it ; its oddity struck her 
 fancy. 
 
 " I don t believe anybody ever had such a paper- 
 
THK SHADRACH. 
 
 weight as that," she said, as she thanked me. " What 
 is it made of? " 
 
 I told her, and explained what shadrach was ; 
 but I did not speak of its presumed influence over 
 human beings, which, after all, might be nothing 
 but the wildest fancy. I did not feel altogether at 
 my ease, as I added that it was merely a trifle, 
 a thing of no value, except as a reminder of the 
 season. 
 
 " The fact that it is a present from you gives it 
 value," she said, as she smilingly raised her eyes to 
 mine. 
 
 I left her house we were all living in the city 
 then with a troubled conscience. What a decep 
 tion I was practising upon this noble girl, who, if 
 she did not already love me, was plainly on the 
 point of doing so. She had received my present as 
 if it indicated a warmth of feeling on my part, when, 
 in fact, it was the result of a desire for a cooler feel 
 ing on her part. 
 
 But I called my reason to my aid, and I showed 
 myself that what I had given Mildred if it should 
 prove to possess any virtue at all was, indeed, 
 a most valuable boon. It was something; which 
 
THE SHADRACH. 9 
 
 would prevent the waste of her affections, the 
 wreck of her hopes. No kindness could be truer, 
 no regard for her happiness more sincere, than the 
 motives which prompted me to give her the 
 shadrach. 
 
 I did not soon again see Mildred, but now as 
 often as possible I visited Janet. She always re 
 ceived me with a charming cordiality, and if this 
 should develop into warmer sentiments I was not 
 the man to wish to cool them. In many ways 
 Janet seemed much better suited to me than 
 Mildred. One of the greatest charms of this 
 beautiful girl was a tender trustfulness, as if I 
 were a being on whom she could lean and to 
 whom she could look up. I liked this ; it is very 
 different from Mildred s manner ; with the latter I 
 had always been well satisfied if I felt myself 
 standing on the same plane. 
 
 The weeks and months passed on, and again we 
 were all in the country ; and here I saw Mildred 
 often. Our homes were not far apart, and our 
 families were very intimate. With my oppor 
 tunities for frequent observation, I could not doubt 
 that a change had come over her. She was always 
 
io THE SHADRACH 
 
 friendly when we met, and seemed as glad to see 
 me as she was to see any other member of my 
 family, but she was not the Mildred I used to 
 know. It was plain that my existence did not 
 make the impression on her that it once made. 
 She did not seem to consider it important whether 
 I came or went ; whether I was in the room or 
 not ; whether I joined a party or stayed away. All 
 this had been very different. I knew well that 
 Mildred had been used to consider my presence 
 as a matter of much importance, and I now felt 
 sure that my Christmas shadrach was doing its 
 work. Mildred was cooling toward me. Her 
 affection, or, to put it more modestly, her tendency 
 to affection, was gently congealing into friendship. 
 This was highly gratifying to my moral nature, for 
 every day I was doing my best to warm the soul of 
 Janet. Whether or not I succeeded in this I could 
 not be sure. Janet was as tender and trustful and 
 charming as ever, but no more so than she had 
 been months before. 
 
 Sometimes I thought she was waiting for an 
 indication of an increased warmth of feeling on my 
 part before she allowed the temperature of her 
 
THE SHADRACH. n 
 
 own sentiments to rise. But for one reason and 
 another I delayed the solution of this problem. 
 Janet was very fond of company, and although we 
 saw a great deal of each other, w r e were not often 
 alone. If we two had more frequently walked, 
 driven, or rowed together, as Mildred and I used to 
 do, I think Miss Clinton would soon have had 
 every opportunity of making up her mind about 
 the fervour of my passion. 
 
 The summer weeks passed on, and there was no 
 change in the things which now principally con 
 cerned me, except that Mildred seemed to be grow 
 ing more and more indifferent to me. From having 
 seemed to care no more for me than for her other 
 friends, she now seemed to care less for me than 
 for most people. I do not mean that she showed 
 a dislike, but she treated me with a sort of in 
 difference which I did not fancy at all. This sort 
 of thing had gone too far, and there was no knowing 
 how much further it would go. It was plain enough 
 that the shadrach was overdoing the business. 
 
 I was now in a state of much mental disquietude. 
 Greatly as I desired to win the love of Janet, it 
 grieved me to think of losing the generous friend- 
 
12 THE SHADRACH. 
 
 ship of Mildred that friendship to which I had 
 been accustomed for the greater part of my life, 
 and on which, as I now discovered, I had grown to 
 depend. 
 
 In this state of mind I went to see Mildred. I 
 found her in the library writing. She received me 
 pleasantly, and was sorry her father was not at 
 home, and begged that I would excuse her finish 
 ing the note on which she was engaged, because 
 she wished to get it into the post-office before the 
 mail closed. I sat down on the other side of the 
 table, and she finished her note, after which she 
 went out to give it to a servant. 
 
 Glancing about me, I saw the shadrach. It was 
 partly under a litter of papers, instead of lying on 
 them. I took it up, and was looking at it when 
 Mildred returned. She sat down and asked me if 
 1 had heard of the changes that were to be made 
 in the time-table of the railroad. We talked a 
 little on the subject, and then I spoke of the 
 shadrach, saying carelessly that it might be 
 interesting to analyse the bit of metal ; there was 
 a little knob which might be filed off without 
 injuring it in the least, 
 
THE SHADRACH. 13 
 
 " You may take it," she said, " and make what 
 experiments you please. I do not use it much ; 
 it is unnecessarily heavy for a paper-weight." 
 
 From her tone I might have supposed that she 
 had forgotten that I had given it to her. I told her 
 that I would be very glad to borrow the paper 
 weight for a time, and, putting it into my pocket, I 
 went away, leaving her arranging her disordered 
 papers on the table, and giving quite as much 
 regard to this occupation as she had given to my 
 little visit. 
 
 I could not feel sure that the absence of the 
 shadrach would cause any diminution in the cool 
 ness of her feelings toward me, but there was 
 reason to believe that it would prevent them from 
 growing cooler. If she should keep that shadrach 
 she might in time grow to hate me. I was very 
 glad that I had taken it from her. 
 
 My mind easier on this subject, my heart turned 
 more freely toward Janet, and, going to her house 
 the next day I was delighted to find her alone. 
 She was as lovely as ever, and as cordial, but she 
 was flushed and evidently annoyed. 
 
 <l I am in a bad humour to-day," she said, " and I 
 
14 THE SHADRACH. 
 
 am glad you came to talk to me and quiet me. 
 Dr. Gilbert promised to take me to drive this after 
 noon, and we were going over to the hills where 
 they find the wild rhododendron. I am told that 
 it is still in blossom up there, and I want some 
 flowers ever so much I am going to paint them. 
 And besides, I am crazy to drive with his new 
 horses ; and now he sends me a note to say he is 
 engaged." 
 
 This communication shocked me, and I began to 
 talk to her about Dr. Gilbert. I soon found that 
 several times she had been driving with this hand 
 some young physician, but never, she said, behind 
 his new horses, nor to the rhododendron hills. 
 
 Dr. Hector Gilbert was a fine young fellow, 
 beginning practice in town, and one of my favourite 
 associates. I had never thought of him in connec 
 tion with Janet, but I could now see that he might 
 make a most dangerous rival. When a young and 
 talented doctor, enthusiastic in his studies, and 
 earnestly desirous of establishing a practice, and 
 who, if his time were not fully occupied, would 
 naturally wish that the neighbours would think- 
 that such were the case, deliberately devotes some 
 
THE SHADRACH. 15 
 
 hours on I know not how many sunny days to 
 driving a young lady into the surrounding coun 
 try, it may be supposed that he is really in love 
 with her. Moreover, judging from Janet s present 
 mood, this doctor s attentions were not without en 
 couragement. 
 
 I went home ; I considered the state of affairs ; 
 I ran my fingers through my hair ; I gazed stead 
 fastly upon the floor. Suddenly I rose. I had an in 
 spiration ; I would give the shadrach to Dr. Gilbert. 
 
 I went immediately to the doctor s office, and 
 found him there. He was not in a very good 
 humour. 
 
 " I have had two old ladies here nearly all the 
 afternoon, and they have bored me to death," he 
 said. " I could not get rid of them, because I 
 found they had made an appointment with each 
 other to visit me to-day and talk over a hospital 
 plan which I proposed some time ago, and which 
 is really very important to me, but I wish they had 
 chosen some other time to come here. What is 
 that thing ? " 
 
 " That is a bit of shadrach," I said, "made into a 
 paper-weight." And then I proceeded to explain 
 
1 6 THE SHADRACH. 
 
 what shadrach is, and what peculiar properties it 
 must possess to resist the power of heat, which 
 melts other metals apparently of the same class ; 
 and I added that I thought it might be interesting 
 to analyse a bit of it and discover what fire-proof 
 constituents it possessed. 
 
 " I should like to do that," said the doctor, 
 attentively turning over the shadrach in his hand. 
 " Can I take off a piece of it?" 
 
 " I will give it to you," said I, " and you can 
 make what use of it you please. If you do 
 analyse it, I shall be very glad indeed to hear 
 the results of your investigations." 
 
 The doctor demurred a little at taking the 
 paper-weight with such a pretty silver ring around 
 it, but I assured him that the cost of the whole 
 affair was trifling, and I should be gratified if he 
 would take it. He accepted the gift, and was 
 thanking me, when a patient arrived, and I 
 departed. 
 
 I really had no right to give away this paper 
 weight, which, in fact, belonged to Mildred, but 
 there are times when a man must keep his eyes 
 on the chief good, and not think too much about 
 
THE SHADRACH. 17 
 
 other things. Besides, it was evident that Mildred 
 did not care in the least for the bit of metal, and 
 she had virtually given it to me. 
 
 There was another point which I took into 
 consideration. It might be that the shadrach 
 might simply cool Dr. Gilbert s feelings toward 
 me, and that would be neither pleasant nor ad 
 vantageous. If I could have managed matters so 
 that Janet could have given it to him, it would 
 have been all right. But now all that I could do 
 was to wait and see what would happen. If only 
 the thing would cool the doctor in a general way, 
 that would help. He might then give more 
 thought to his practice and his hospital ladies, 
 and let other people take Janet driving. 
 
 About a week after this I met the doctor ; he 
 seemed in a hurry, but I stopped him. I had a 
 curiosity to know if he had analysed the shadrach, 
 and asked him about it. 
 
 " No," said he ; " I haven t done it. I haven t 
 had time. 1 knocked off a piece of it, and I will 
 attend to it when I get a chance. Good-day." 
 
 Of course if the man was busy he could not be 
 expected to give his mind to a trifling matter of 
 
 C 
 
i8 THE SHADRACH. 
 
 that sort, but I thought that he need not have been 
 so curt about it. I stood gazing after him as he 
 walked rapidly down the street. Before I resumed 
 my walk I saw him enter the Clinton house. 
 Things were not going on well. The shadrach had 
 not cooled Dr. Gilbert s feelings toward Janet. 
 
 But because the doctor was still warm in his 
 attentions to the girl I loved, I would not in the 
 least relax my attentions to her. I visited her as 
 often as I could find an excuse to do so. There 
 was generally someone else there, but Janet s 
 disposition was of such gracious expansiveness that 
 each one felt obliged to be satisfied with what he 
 got, much as he may have wished for something 
 different. 
 
 But one morning Janet surprised me. I met her 
 at Mildred s house, where I had gone to borrow a 
 book of reference. Although I had urged her not 
 to put herself to so much trouble, Mildred was 
 standing on a little ladder looking for the book, 
 because, she said, she knew exactly what I wanted, 
 and she was sure she could find the proper volume 
 better than I could. Janet had been sitting in a 
 window-seat reading, but when I came in she put 
 
THE SHADRACH. 19 
 
 down her book and devoted herself to conver 
 sation with me. I was a little sorry for this, because 
 Mildred was very kindly engaged in doing me a 
 service, and I really wanted to talk to her about the 
 book she was looking for. Mildred showed so 
 much of her old manner this morning that I would 
 have been very sorry to have her think that I did 
 not appreciate her returning interest in me. There 
 fore, while under other circumstances I would have 
 been delighted to talk to Janet, I did not wish to 
 give her so much of my attention then. But Janet 
 Clinton was a girl who insisted on people attending 
 to her when she wished them to do so, and having 1 
 
 o 
 
 stepped through an open door into the garden, she 
 presently called me to her. Of course I had to go. 
 " I will not keep you a minute from your fellow- 
 student," she said, " but I want to ask a favour of 
 you." And into her dark, uplifted eyes there 
 came a look of tender trustfulness clearer than any 
 I had yet seen there. " Don t you want to drive 
 me to the rhododendron hills ? " she said. " I 
 suppose the flowers are all gone by this time, but 
 I have never been there, and I should like ever so 
 
 much to go." 
 
 c 2 
 
20 THE SHADRACH. 
 
 I could not help remarking that I thought Dr. 
 Gilbert was going to take her there. 
 
 "Dr. Gilbert, indeed!" she said with a little 
 laugh. " He promised once, and didn t come, and 
 the next day he planned for it it rained. I don t 
 think doctors make very good escorts, anyway, for 
 you can t tell who is going to be sick just as you 
 are about to start on a trip. Besides, there is no 
 knowing how much botany I should have to hear, 
 and when I go on a pleasure-drive I don t care very 
 much about studying things. But of course I don t 
 want to trouble you." 
 
 "Trouble!" I exclaimed. "It will give me the 
 greatest delight to take you that drive or any 
 other, and at whatever time you please." 
 
 " You are always so good and kind," she said, 
 with her dark eyes again upraised. " And now 
 let us go in and see if Mildred has found the book." 
 I spoke the truth when I said that Janet s pro 
 position delighted me. To take a long drive with 
 that charming girl, and at the same time to feel that 
 she had chosen me as her companion, was a greater 
 joy than I had yet had reason to expect ; but it 
 would have been a more satisfying joy if she had 
 
THE SHADRACH. 21 
 
 asked me in her own house and not in Mildred s ; 
 if she had not allowed the love which I hoped was 
 growing up between her and me to interfere with 
 the revival of the old friendship between Mildred 
 and me. 
 
 But when we returned to the library Mildred was 
 sitting at a table with a book before her, opened at 
 the passage I wanted. 
 
 " I have just found it," she said with a smile. 
 " Draw up a chair, and we will look over these 
 maps together. I want you to show me how he 
 travelled when he left his ship." 
 
 " Well, if you two are going to the pole," said 
 Janet, with her prettiest smile, " I will go back to 
 my novel." 
 
 She did not seem in the least to object to my 
 geographical researches with Mildred, and if the 
 latter had even noticed my willingness to desert 
 her at the call of Janet, she did not show it. Ap 
 parently she was as much a good comrade as she 
 had ever been. This state of things was gratifying 
 in the highest degree. If I could be loved by Janet 
 and still keep Mildred as my friend, what greater 
 earthly joys could I ask ? 
 
22 THE SHADRACH. 
 
 The drive with Janet was postponed by wet 
 weather. Day after day it rained, or the skies 
 were heavy, and we both agreed that it must be 
 in the bright sunshine that we would make this 
 excursion. When we should make it, and should 
 be alone together on the rhododendron hill, I 
 intended to open my soul to Janet. 
 
 It may seem strange to others, and at the time 
 it also seemed strange to me, but there was 
 another reason besides the rainy weather which 
 prevented my declaration of love to Janet. This 
 was a certain nervous anxiety in regard to my 
 friendship for Mildred. I did not in the least 
 waver in my intention to use the best endeavours 
 to make the one my wife, but at the same time 
 I was oppressed by a certain alarm that in 
 carrying out this project I might act in such a 
 way as to wound the feelings of the other. 
 
 This disposition to consider the feelings of 
 Mildred became so strong that I began to think 
 that my own sentiments were in need of control. 
 It was not right that while making love to one 
 woman I should give so much consideration to 
 my relations with another. The idea struck me 
 
THE SHADRACH. 23 
 
 that in a measure I had shared the fate of those 
 who had thrown the Hebrew youths into the 
 fiery furnace. My heart had not been consumed 
 by the flames, but in throwing the shadrach into 
 what I supposed were Mildred s affections, it was 
 quite possible that I had been singed by them. 
 At any rate my conscience told me that under 
 the circumstances my sentiments toward Mildred 
 were too warm; in honestly making love to Janet 
 I ought to forget them entirely. 
 
 It might have been a good thing, I told myself, 
 if I had not given away the shadrach, but kept 
 it as a gift from Mildred. Very soon after I 
 reached this conclusion it became evident to me 
 that Mildred was again cooling in my direction 
 as rapidly as the mercury falls after sunset on 
 a September day. This discovery did not make 
 my mercury fall ; in fact, it brought it for a time 
 nearly to the boiling point. I could not imagine 
 what had happened. I almost neglected Janet, 
 so anxious was I to know what had made this 
 change in Mildred. 
 
 Weeks passed on, and I discovered nothing 
 except that Mildred had now become more than 
 
24 THE SHADRACH. 
 
 indifferent to me. She allowed me to see that 
 my companionship did not give her pleasure. 
 
 Janet had her drive to the rhododendron hills, 
 but she took it with Dr. Gilbert, and not with me. 
 When I heard of this it pained me, though I 
 could not help admitting that I deserved the 
 punishment ; but my surprise was almost as great 
 as my pain, for Janet had recently given me 
 reason to believe that she had a very small 
 opinion of the young doctor. In fact, she had 
 criticised him so severely that I had been obliged 
 to speak in his defence. I now found myself 
 in a most doleful quandary, and there was only 
 one thing of which I could be certain I needed 
 cooling toward Mildred if I still allowed myself 
 to hope to marry Janet. 
 
 One afternoon I was talking to Mr. Bronce in 
 his library, when, glancing towards the table used 
 by his daughter for writing purposes, I was 
 astounded to see, lying on a little pile of letters, 
 the Christmas shadrach. As soon as I could 
 get an opportunity I took it in my hand and 
 eagerly examined it. I had not been mistaken. 
 It was the paper-weight I had given Mildred, 
 
THE SHADRACH. 25 
 
 There was the silver band around it, and there 
 was the place where a little piece had been 
 knocked off by the doctor. Mildred was not 
 at home, but I determined that I would wait 
 and see her. I would dine with the Bronces ; I 
 would spend the evening ; I would stay all night ; 
 I would not leave the house until I had had this 
 mystery explained. She returned in about half 
 an hour, and greeted me in the somewhat stiff 
 manner she had adopted of late ; but when she 
 noticed my perturbed expression and saw that 
 I held the shadrach in my hand, she took a seat 
 by the table, where for some time I had been 
 waiting for her, alone. 
 
 " I suppose you want to ask me about that 
 paper-weight ? " 
 
 " Indeed I do," I replied. " How in the world 
 did you happen to get it again ? " 
 
 " Again ? " she repeated, satirically. " You may 
 well say that. I will explain it to you. Some 
 little time ago I called on Janet Clinton, and 
 on her writing-desk I saw that paper-weight. I 
 remembered it perfectly. It was the one you 
 gave me last Christmas, and afterward borrowed 
 
26 THE SHADRACH. 
 
 of me, saying that you wanted to analyse it, or 
 something of the sort. I had never used it very 
 much, and of course was willing that you should 
 take it, and make experiments with it if you 
 wanted to ; but I must say that the sight of it 
 on Janet Clinton s desk both shocked and angered 
 me. I asked her where she had got it, and she 
 told me a gentleman had given it to her. I did 
 not waste any words in inquiring who this gentle 
 man was, but I determined that she should not rest 
 under a mistake in regard to its proper owner 
 ship, and told her plainly that the person who 
 had given it to her had previously given it to 
 me ; that it was mine, and he had no right to 
 give it to anyone else. Oh, if that is the case, 
 she exclaimed, take it. I beg of you. I don t 
 care for it, and what is more, I don t care any 
 more for the man who gave it to me than I do 
 for the thing itself. So I took it and brought 
 it home with me. Now you know how I happen 
 to have it again." 
 
 For a moment I made no answer. Then I 
 asked her how long it had been since she had 
 received the shadrach from Janet Clinton. 
 
THE SHADRACH. 27 
 
 " Oh, I don t remember exactly," she said ; " it 
 was several weeks ago. 
 
 Now I knew everything ; all the mysteries of 
 the past were revealed to me. The young doctor, 
 fervid in his desire to please the woman he loved, 
 had given Janet this novel paper-weight. From 
 that moment she had begun to regard his atten 
 tions with apathy, and finally her nature was 
 one which was apt to go to extremes to dislike 
 him. Mildred repossessed herself of the shadrach 
 which she took, not as a gift from Janet, but 
 as her rightful property, presented to her by me. 
 And this horrid little object, probably with re 
 newed power, had cooled, almost frozen, indeed, 
 the sentiments of that dear girl toward me. Then, 
 too, had the spell been taken from Janet s inclina 
 tions, and she had gone to the rhododendron hills 
 with Doctor Gilbert. 
 
 One thing was certain. / must have that 
 shadrach. 
 
 " Mildred," I exclaimed, " will you not give me 
 this paper-weight ? Give it to me for my own ?" 
 
 " What do you want to do with it ? " she asked 
 sarcastically. " Analyse it again ? " 
 
28 THE SHADRACH. 
 
 " Mildred," said I, " I did not give it to Janet. 
 I gave it to Dr. Gilbert, and he must have given it 
 to her. I know I had no right to give it away at 
 all, but I did not believe that you would care ; but 
 now I beg that you will let me have it. Let me 
 have it for my own. I assure you solemnly I will 
 never give it away. It has caused trouble enough 
 already." 
 
 " I don t exactly understand what you mean 
 by trouble," she said, " but take it if you want it. 
 You are perfectly welcome." And picking up her 
 gloves and hat from the table she left me. 
 
 As I walked home my hatred of the wretched 
 piece of metal in my hand increased with every 
 step. I looked at it with disgust when I went to 
 bed that night, and when my glance lighted upon 
 it the next morning I involuntarily shrank from it, 
 as if it had been an evil thing. Over and over 
 again that day I asked myself why I should keep 
 in my possession something which would make 
 my regard for Mildred grow less and less ; which 
 would eventually make me care for her not at all ? 
 The very thought of not caring for Mildred sent a 
 pang through my heart. 
 
THE SHADRACH. 29 
 
 My feelings all prompted me to rid myself of 
 what I looked upon as a calamitous talisman, but 
 my reason interfered. If I still wished to marry 
 Janet it was my duty to welcome indifference to 
 Mildred. 
 
 In this mood I went out. to stroll, to think, to 
 decide : and that I might be ready to act on my 
 decision I put the shadrach into my pocket. 
 Without exactly intending it I walked toward the 
 Bronce place, and soon found myself on the edge 
 of a pretty pond which lay at the foot of the 
 garden. Here, in the shade of a tree, there stood 
 a bench, and on this lay a book, an ivory paper- 
 cutter in its leaves as marker. 
 
 I knew that Mildred had left that book on the 
 bench ; it was her habit to come to this place to 
 read. As she had not taken the volume with her, 
 it was probable that she intended soon to return. 
 But then the sad thought came to me that if she 
 saw me there she would not return. I picked up 
 the book ; I read the pages she had been reading. 
 As I read I felt that I could think the very 
 thoughts that she thought as she read. I was 
 seized with a yearning to be with her, to read with 
 
30 THE SHADRACH. 
 
 her, to think with her. Never had my soul gone 
 out to Mildred as at that moment, and yet, heavily 
 dangling in my pocket, I carried I could not bear 
 to think of it. Seized by a sudden impulse, I put 
 down the book ; I drew out the shadrach, and, 
 tearing off the silver band, I tossed the vile bit of 
 metal into the pond. 
 
 " There ! " I cried. " Go out of my possession, 
 out of my sight ! You shall work no charm on me. 
 Let nature take its course, and let things happen 
 as they may." Then, relieved from the weight on 
 my heart and the weight in my pocket, I went 
 home. 
 
 Nature did take its course, and in less than a 
 fortnight from that day the engagement of Janet 
 and Dr. Gilbert was announced. I had done 
 nothing to prevent this, and the news did not 
 disturb my peace of mind ; but my relations with 
 Mildred very much disturbed it. I had hoped 
 that, released from the baleful influence of the 
 shadrach, her friendly feelings toward me would 
 return, and my passion for her had now grown so 
 strong that I waited and watched, as a wrecked 
 mariner waits and watches for the sight of a sail, 
 
THE SHADRACH. 31 
 
 for a sign that she had so far softened toward me 
 that I might dare to speak to her of my love. But 
 no such sign appeared. 
 
 I now seldom visited the Bronce house ; no one 
 of that family, once my best friends, seemed to 
 care to see me. Evidently Mildred s feelings 
 toward me had extended themselves to the rest 
 of the household. This was not surprising, for 
 her family had long been accustomed to think as % 
 Mildred thought. 
 
 One day I met Mr. Bronce at the post-office, 
 and, some other gentlemen coming up, we began to 
 talk of a proposed plan to introduce a system of 
 water-works into the village, an improvement much 
 desired by many of us. 
 
 " So far as I am concerned," said Mr. Bronce, " I 
 am not now in need of anything of the sort. Since 
 I set up my steam-pump I have supplied my house 
 from the pond at the end of my garden with all 
 the water we can possibly want for every purpose." 
 
 " Do you mean," asked one of the gentlemen, 
 " that you get your drinking-water in that way ? " 
 
 " Certainly," replied Mr. Bronce. " The basin of 
 the pond is kept as clean and in as good order as 
 
32 THE SHADRACH. 
 
 any reservoir can be, and the water comes from an 
 excellent, rapid-flowing spring. I want nothing 
 better." 
 
 A chill ran through me as I listened. The 
 shadrach was in that pond. Every drop of water 
 which Mildred drank, which touched her, was 
 influenced by that demoniacal paper-weight, which, 
 without knowing what I was doing, I had thus 
 bestowed upon the whole Bronce family. 
 
 When I went home I made diligent search for 
 a stone which might be about the size and weight 
 of the shadrach, and having repaired to a retired 
 spot I practised tossing it as I had tossed the 
 bit of metal into the pond. In each instance I 
 measured the distance which I had thrown the 
 stone, and was at last enabled to make a very 
 fair estimate of the distance to which I had thrown 
 the shadrach when I had buried it under the 
 waters of the pond. 
 
 That night there was a half-moon, and between 
 eleven and twelve o clock, when everybody in our 
 village might be supposed to be in bed and asleep, 
 T made my way over the fields to the back of the 
 Bronce place, taking with me a long fish-cord 
 
 
THE SHADRACH. 33 
 
 with a knot in it, showing the average distance 
 to which I had thrown the practice stone. When 
 I reached the pond I stood as nearly as possible 
 in the place by the bench from which I had 
 hurled the shadrach, and to this spot I pegged 
 one end of the cord. I was attired in an old 
 tennis suit, and, having removed my shoes and 
 stockings, I entered the water, holding the roll 
 of cord in my hand. This I slowly unwound as 
 I advanced toward the middle of the pond, and 
 when I reached the knot I stopped, with the 
 water above my waist. 
 
 I had found the bottom of the pond very 
 smooth, and free from weeds and mud, and I 
 now began feeling about with my bare feet, as 
 I moved from side to side, describing a small arc; 
 but I discovered nothing more than an occasional 
 pebble no larger than a walnut. 
 
 Letting out some more of the cord, I advanced 
 a little farther into the centre of the pond, and 
 slowly described another arc. The water was now 
 nearly up to my armpits, but it was not cold, 
 though if it had been I do not think I should have 
 minded it in the ardour of my search. Suddenly 
 
 P 
 
34 THE SHADRACH. 
 
 I put my foot on something hard and as big as 
 my fist, but in an instant it moved away from 
 under my foot ; it must have been a turtle. This 
 occurrence made me shiver a little, but I did not 
 swerve from my purpose, and, loosing the string 
 a little more, I went farther into the pond. The 
 water was now nearly up to my chin, and there 
 was something weird, mystical, and awe-inspiring 
 in standing thus in the depths of this silent water, 
 my eyes so near its gently rippling surface, fantas 
 tically lighted by the setting moon, and tenanted 
 by nobody knew what cold and slippery creatures. 
 But from side to side I slowly moved, reaching 
 out with my feet in every direction, hoping to 
 touch the thing for which I sought. 
 
 Suddenly I set my right foot upon something 
 hard and irregular. Nervously I felt it with my 
 toes. I patted it with my bare sole. It was as 
 big as the shadrach ! It felt like the shadrach. 
 In a few moments I was almost convinced that the 
 direful paper-weight was beneath my foot. 
 
 Closing my eyes, and holding my breath, I 
 stooped down into the water, and groped on the 
 bottom with my hands. In some way I had 
 
THE SHADRACH. 35 
 
 moved while stooping, and at first I could find 
 nothing. A sensation of dread came over me as 
 I felt myself in the midst of the dark solemn 
 water around me, above me, everywhere, 
 almost suffocated, and apparently deserted even 
 by the shadrach. But just as I felt that I could 
 hold my breath no longer, my fingers touched the 
 thing that had been under my foot, and, clutch 
 ing it, I rose and thrust my head out of the w r ater. 
 I could do nothing until I had taken two or three 
 long breaths ; then, holding up the object in my 
 hand to the light of the expiring moon, I saw 
 that it was like the shadrach ; so like, indeed, that 
 I felt that it must be it. 
 
 Turning, I made my way out of the water as 
 rapidly as possible, and, dropping on my knees 
 on the ground, I tremblingly lighted the lantern 
 which I had left on the bench, and turned its light 
 on the thing I had found. There must be no 
 mistake ; if this was not the shadrach I would go 
 in again. But there was no necessity for re-enter 
 ing the pond ; it was the shadrach. 
 
 With the extinguished lantern in one hand and 
 the lump of mineral evil in the other, I hurried 
 
 D 2 
 
36 THE SHADRACH. 
 
 home. My wet clothes were sticky and chilly 
 in the night air. Several times in my haste I 
 stumbled over clods and briers, and my shoes, 
 which I had not taken time to tie, flopped up and 
 clown as I ran. But I cared for none of these 
 discomforts ; the shadrach was in my power. 
 
 Crossing a wide field I heard, not far away, the 
 tramping of hoofs, as of a horseman approaching 
 at full speed. I stopped and looked in the direc 
 tion of the sound. My eyes had now become so 
 accustomed to the dim light that I could distin 
 guish objects somewhat plainly, and I quickly 
 perceived that the animal that was galloping 
 toward me was a bull. I well knew what bull it 
 was ; this was Squire Starling s pasture-field, and 
 that was his great Alderney bull, Ramping Sir 
 John of Ramapo II. 
 
 I was well acquainted with that bull, renowned 
 throughout the neighbourhood for his savage 
 temper and his noble pedigree son of Ramping 
 Sir John of Ramapo I., whose sire was the Great 
 Rodolphin, son of Prince Maximus of Granby, one 
 of whose daughters averaged eighteen pounds of 
 butter a week, and who himself had killed two men. 
 
THE SHADRACH. 37 
 
 The bull, who had not perceived me when I 
 crossed the field before, for I had then made my 
 way with as little noise as possible, was now bent 
 on punishing my intrusion upon his domains, and 
 bellowed as he came on. I was in a position of 
 great danger. With my flopping shoes it was im 
 possible to escape by flight ; I must stand and 
 defend myself. I turned and faced the furious 
 creature, who was not twenty feet distant, and then 
 with all my strength I hurled the shadrach, which 
 I held in my right hand, directly at his shaggy 
 forehead. My ability to project a missile was con 
 siderable, for I had held, with credit, the position 
 of pitcher in a base-ball nine, and as the shadrach 
 struck the bull s head with a thud he stopped as if 
 he had suddenly run against a wall. 
 
 I do not know that actual and violent contact 
 with the physical organism of a recipient accelerates 
 the influence of a shadrach upon the mental orga 
 nism of said recipient, but I do know that the con 
 tact of my projectile with that bull s skull instantly 
 cooled the animal s fury. For a few moments he 
 stood and looked at me, and then his interest in me 
 as a man and trespasser appeared to fade away; 
 
38 THE SHADRACH. 
 
 and, moving slowly from me, Ramping Sir John of 
 Ramapo II. began to crop the grass. 
 
 I did not stop to look for the shadrach ; I con 
 sidered it safely disposed of. So long as Squire 
 Starling used that field for a pasture, connoisseurs 
 in mineral fragments would not be apt to wander 
 through it, and when it should be ploughed the 
 shadrach, to ordinary eyes no more than a common 
 stone, would be buried beneath the sod. I awoke 
 the next morning refreshed and happy, and none 
 the worse for my wet walk. 
 
 " Now," I said to myself, " nature shall truly have 
 her own way. If the uncanny comes into my life 
 and that of those I love, it shall not be brought in 
 by me." 
 
 About a week after this I dined with the Bronce 
 family. They were very cordial, and it seemed to 
 me the most natural thing in the world to be 
 sitting at their table. After dinner Mildred 
 and I walked together in the garden. It was 
 a charming evening, and we sat down on the 
 bench by the edge of the pond. I spoke to her 
 of some passages in the book I had once seen 
 there. 
 
THE SHADRACH. 39 
 
 " Oh, have you read that ? " she asked with 
 interest. 
 
 " I have seen only two pages of it," I said, " and 
 those I read in the volume you left on this bench, 
 with a paper-cutter in it for a marker. I long to 
 read more and talk with you of what I have read." 
 
 " Why, then, didn t you wait ? You might have 
 known that I would come back." 
 
 I did not tell her that I knew that because I was 
 there she would not have come. But before I left 
 the bench I discovered that hereafter, wherever I 
 might be, she was willing to come and stay. 
 
 Early in the next spring Mildred and I were 
 married, and on our wedding - trip we passed 
 through a mining district in the mountains. Here 
 we visited one of the great ironworks, and were 
 both interested in witnessing the wonderful power 
 of man, air, and fire over the stubborn king of 
 metals. 
 
 " What is this substance ? " asked Mildred of one 
 of the officials who was conducting us through the 
 works. 
 
 " That," said the man, " is what we call shad 
 " My dear," I cried, " we must hurry away this 
 
40 THE SHADRACH. 
 
 instant or we shall lose the train. Come ; quick ; 
 there is not a moment for delay." And with a 
 word of thanks to the guide I seized her hand and 
 led her, almost running, into the open air. 
 
 Mildred was amazed. 
 
 " Never before," she exclaimed, " have I seen you 
 in such a hurry. I thought the train we decided 
 to take did not leave for an hour." 
 
 " I have changed my mind," I said, " and think it 
 will be a great deal better for us to take the one 
 which leaves in ten minutes." 
 
 
ASAPH. 
 
 BOUT a hundred feet back from the main 
 street of a village in New Jersey there stood 
 a very good white house. Half way between it and 
 the sidewalk was a large chestnut tree, which had 
 been the pride of Mr. Himes, who built the house, 
 and was now the pride of Mrs. Himes, his widow, 
 who lived there. 
 
 Under the tree was a bench, and on the bench 
 were two elderly men, both smoking pipes, and each 
 one of them leaning forward with his elbows on 
 his knees. One of these, Thomas Rooper byname, 
 was a small man with grey side whiskers, a rather 
 thin face and very good clothes. His pipe was a 
 meerschaum, handsomely coloured, with a long 
 amber tip. He had bought that pipe while on a 
 visit to Philadelphia during the great Centennial 
 Exposition ; and if anyone noticed it and happened 
 
42 ASAPH. 
 
 to remark what a fine pipe it was, that person 
 would be likely to receive a detailed account of the 
 circumstances of its purchase, with an appendix 
 relating to the Main building, the Art building, the 
 Agricultural building, and many other salient points 
 of the great Exposition which commemorated the 
 centennial of our national independence. 
 
 The other man, Asaph Scantle, was of a different 
 type. He was a little older than his companion, 
 but if his hair were grey it did not show very much, 
 as his rather long locks were of a sandy hue and 
 his full face was clean shaven, at least on Wednes 
 days and Sundays. He was tall, round-shouldered, 
 and his clothes were not good, possessing very 
 evident claims to a position on the retired list. His 
 pipe consisted of a common clay bowl with a long 
 reed stem. 
 
 For some minutes the two men continued to puff 
 together as if they were playing a duet upon 
 tobacco pipes, and then Asaph, removing his reed 
 from his lips, remarked, " What you ought to do, 
 Thomas, is to marry money." 
 
 " There s sense in that," replied the other, " but 
 you wasn t the first to think of it." 
 
 Asaph, who knew very well that Mr. Rooper 
 
ASAPh. 43 
 
 never allowed anyone to suppose that he received 
 suggestions from without, took no notice of the last 
 remark, but went on : " Lookin at the matter in a 
 friendly way, it seems to me it stands to reason that 
 when the shingles on a man s house is so rotten that 
 the rain comes through into every room on the top 
 floor, and when the plaster on the ceilin is tumblin 
 down more or less all the time and the window 
 sashes is all loose, and things generally in a condition 
 that he can t let that house without spendin at 
 least a year s rent on it to git it into decent order, 
 and when a man s got to the time of life " 
 
 " There s nothin the matter with the time of 
 life," said Thomas ; " that s all right." 
 
 " What I was goin to say was," continued Asaph, 
 " that when a man gits to the time of life when he 
 knows what it is to be comfortable in his mind as 
 well as his body, and that time comes to sensible 
 people as soon as they git fairly growed up, he 
 don t want to give up his good room in the tavern 
 and all the privileges of the house and go to live on 
 his own property and have the plaster come down 
 on his own head and the rain come down on the 
 coverlet of his own bed." 
 
 " No, he don t," said Thomas ; a and what is more, 
 
44 ASAPH. 
 
 he isn t goin to do it. But what I git from the rent 
 of that house is what I have to live on ; there s no 
 gittin around that pint." 
 
 " Well, then," said Asaph, " if you don t marry 
 money, what are you goin to do ? You can t go 
 back to your old business." 
 
 " I never had but one business," said Thomas. 
 " I lived with my folks until I was a good deal 
 more than grovved up ; and when the war broke out 
 I went as sutler to the rigiment from this place ; 
 and all the money I made I put into my property 
 in the village here. That s what I ve lived on ever 
 since. There s no more war, so there s no more 
 sutlers, except away out West, where I wouldn t 
 go ; and there are no more folks, for they are all 
 dead ; and if what Mrs. Mcjimsey says is true, 
 there ll be no more tenants in my house after the 
 ist of next November. For when the Mcjimseys 
 go on account of want of general repairs, it is not to 
 be expected that anybody else will come there. 
 There s nobody in this place that can stand as 
 much as the Mcjimseys can." 
 
 " Consequently," said Asaph, deliberately filling 
 his pipe, " it stands to reason that there ain t 
 nothin for you to do but marry money." 
 
ASAPH. 45 
 
 Thomas Rooper took his pipe from his mouth 
 and sat up straight. Gazing steadfastly at his com 
 panion, he remarked, " If you think that is such a 
 good thing to do, why don t you do it yourself? 
 There can t be anybody much harder up than you 
 are." 
 
 " The law s agin my doin it," said Asaph. " A 
 man can t marry his sister." 
 
 " Are you thinking of Marietta Himes ? " asked 
 Mr. Rooper. 
 
 "That s the one I m thinkin of," said Asaph. 
 "If you can think of anybody better, I d like you 
 to mention her." 
 
 Mr. Rooper did not immediately speak. He 
 presently asked : " What do you call money ? " 
 
 " Well," said Asaph, with a little hesitation, " con- 
 siderin the circumstances, I should say that in a case 
 like this about Si, 500 a year, and a first-rate house, 
 with not a loose shingle on it and not a crack any 
 where, and a good garden and an orchard, and two 
 cows and a piece of meadow land on the other side 
 of the creek, and all the clothes a woman need 
 have, is money." 
 
 Thomas shrugged his shoulders. " Clothes ! " 
 
46 AS A PH. 
 
 he said. " If she marries she ll go out of black, 
 and then she ll have to have new ones, and lots of 
 em. That would make a big hole in her money, 
 Asaph." 
 
 The other smiled. " I always knowed you was 
 a far-seein feller, Thomas ; but it stands to reason 
 that Marietta s got a lot of clothes that was on hand 
 before she went into mournin , and she s not the kind 
 of woman to waste em. She ll be twistin em about 
 and makin em over to suit the fashions, and it won t 
 be like her to be buyin new coloured goods when 
 she s got plenty of em already." 
 
 There was now another pause in the conversation, 
 and then Mr. Rooper remarked : "Mrs. Himes must 
 be gettin on pretty well in years." 
 
 " She s not a young woman," said Asaph ; " but 
 if she was much younger she wouldn t have you, 
 and if she was much older you wouldn t have her. 
 So it strikes me she s just about the right pint." 
 
 " How old was John Himes when he died ?" asked 
 Thomas. 
 
 " I don t exactly know that ; but he was a lot 
 older than Marietta." 
 
 Thomas shook his head. " It strikes me," said 
 
ASAPH. 47 
 
 he, " that John Himes had a hearty constitution, 
 and hadn t ought to have died as soon as he did. He 
 fell away a good deal in the last years of his life." 
 
 " And considerin that he died of consumption, 
 he had a right to fall away," said Asaph. " If what 
 you are drivin at, Thomas, is that Marietta isn t a 
 good housekeeper and hasn t the right sort of 
 notions of feedin , look at me. I ve lived with 
 Marietta just about a year, and in that time I have 
 gained forty-two pounds. Now, of course, I ain t 
 unreasonable, and don t mean to say that you 
 would gain forty-two pounds in a year, cause you 
 ain t got the frame and bone to put it on ; but it 
 wouldn t surprise me a bit if you was to gain twenty 
 or even twenty-five pounds in eighteen months, 
 anyway ; and more than that you ought not to 
 ask, Thomas, considerin your height and general 
 build." 
 
 " Isn t Marietta Himes a good deal of a free 
 thinker ? " asked Thomas. 
 
 " A what ? " cried Asaph. " You mean an infidel ? " 
 
 " No," said Thomas, " I don t charge people with 
 nothin more than there s reason for ; but they do 
 say that she goes sometimes to one church and 
 
48 ASAPH. 
 
 sometimes to another, and that if there was a 
 Catholic church in this village she would go to that. 
 And who s goin to say where a woman will turn 
 up when she don t know her own mind better than 
 that ? " 
 
 Asaph coloured a little. " The place where Mari 
 etta will turn up," said he warmly, "is on a Iront 
 seat in the kingdom of heaven ; and if the people 
 that talk about her will mend their ways, they ll sec 
 that I am right. You need not trouble yourself 
 about that, Thomas. Marietta Himes is pious to 
 the heel." 
 
 Mr. Rooper now shifted himself a little on the 
 bench and crossed one leg over the other. " Now 
 look here, Asaph," he said, with a little more 
 animation than he had yet shown, " supposin all 
 you say is true, have you got any reason to think 
 that Marietta Himes ain t satisfied with things as 
 they are ? " 
 
 " Yes, I have," said Asaph. " And I don t mind 
 tellin you that the thing she s least satisfied with is 
 me. She wants a man in the house ; that is nateral. 
 She wouldn t be Marietta Himes if she didn t. When 
 I come to live with her I thought the whole business 
 
AS A PH. 49 
 
 was settled ; but it isn t. I don t suit her. I don t 
 say she s lookin for another man, but if another 
 man was to come along, and if he was the right 
 kind of a man, it s my opinion she s ready for him. 
 I wouldn t say this to everybody, but I say it to 
 you, Thomas Rooper, cause I know what kind of 
 a man you are." 
 
 Mr. Rooper did not return the compliment. " I 
 don t wonder your sister ain t satisfied with you," 
 he said, " for you go ahead of all the lazy men I 
 ever saw yet. They was sayin down at the tavern 
 yesterday, only yesterday, that you could do less 
 work in more time than anybody they ever before 
 saw." 
 
 " There s two ways of workin ," said Asaph. 
 " Some people work with their hands and some 
 with their heads." 
 
 Thomas grimly smiled. " It strikes me," said 
 he, " that the most hcadwork you do is with your 
 jaws." 
 
 Asaph was not the man to take offence readily, 
 especially when he considered it against his interest 
 to do so, and he showed no resentment at this re 
 mark. " Tain t so much my not makin myself more 
 
 
50 ASAPH. 
 
 generally useful," he said, " that Marietta objects 
 to ; though, of course, it could not be expected that 
 a man that hasn t got any interest in property 
 would keep workin at it like a man that has got 
 an interest in it, such as Marietta s husband would 
 have ; but it s my general appearance that she don t 
 like. She s told me more than once she didn t so 
 much mind my bein lazy as lookin lazy." 
 
 " I don t wonder she thinks that way," said 
 Thomas. " But look here, Asaph, do you suppose 
 that if Marietta Himes was to marry a man he 
 would really come into her property ? " 
 
 " There ain t nobody that knows my sister better 
 than I know her, and I can say, without any fear 
 of bein contradicted, that when she gives herself 
 to a man the good-will and fixtures will be in 
 cluded." 
 
 Thomas Rooper now leaned forward with his 
 elbows on his knees without smoking, and Asaph 
 Scantlc leaned forward with his elbows on his 
 knees without smoking. And thus they remained, 
 saying nothing to each other for the space of some 
 ten minutes. 
 
 Asaph was a man who truly used his head a great 
 
ASAPH. 51 
 
 deal more than he used his hands. He had always 
 been a shiftless fellow, but he was no fool, and this 
 his sister found out soon after she asked him to 
 come and make his home with her. She had not 
 done this because she wanted a man in the house, 
 for she had lived two or three years without that 
 convenience and had not felt the need of it. But 
 she heard that Asaph was in very uncomfortable 
 circumstances, and she had sent for him solely for 
 his own good. The arrangement proved to be a 
 very good one for her brother, but not a good one 
 for her. She had always known that Asaph s head 
 was his main dependence, but she was just begin 
 ning to discover that he liked to use his head so 
 that other people s hands should work for him. 
 
 " There ain t nobody comin to see your sister, is 
 there ? " asked Thomas, suddenly. 
 
 " Not a livin soul," said Asaph, "except women, 
 married folk and children. But it has always sur 
 prised me that nobody did come ; but just at this 
 minute the field s clear and the gate s open." 
 
 "Well," said Mr. Rooper, " I ll think about it" 
 
 " That s right," said Asaph, rubbing his knees 
 with his hands. " That s right. But now tell me 
 
52 ASAPH. 
 
 Thomas Rooper, supposin you get Marietta, what 
 are you goin to do for me ? " 
 
 " For you ? " exclaimed the other. " What have 
 you got to do with it ? " 
 
 "A good deal," said Asaph. "If you get 
 Marietta with her 1,500 a year, and it wouldn t 
 surprise me if it was $1,800, and her house and her 
 garden and her cattle and her field and her furniture, 
 which I didn t mention before, with not a leg loose 
 nor a cushion scratched, you will get her because I 
 proposed her to you, and because I backed you up 
 afterward. And now then, I want to know what 
 you are goin to do for me." 
 
 " What do you want ? " asked Thomas. 
 
 " The first thing I want," said Asaph, "is a suit of 
 clothes. These clothes is disgraceful." 
 
 " You are right there," said Mr. Rooper. " I won 
 der your sister lets you come around in front of the 
 house. But what do you mean by clothes ; winter 
 clothes or summer clothes ? " 
 
 " Winter," said Asaph, without hesitation. " I 
 don t count summer clothes. And when I say a 
 suit of clothes, I mean shoes and hat and under 
 clothes," 
 
AS A PH. 53 
 
 Mr. Rooper gave a sniff. " I wonder you don t 
 say overcoat," he remarked. 
 
 " I do say overcoat," replied Asaph. " A suit of 
 winter clothes is a suit of clothes that you can go 
 out into the weather in without missin nothin ." 
 
 Mr. Rooper smiled sarcastically. " Is there any 
 thing else you want ? " he asked. 
 
 " Yes," said Asaph, decidedly, " there is. I want 
 an umbrella." 
 
 " Cotton or silk ? " 
 
 Asaph hesitated. He had never had a silk um 
 brella in his hand in his life. He was afraid to 
 strike too high, and he answered, " I want a good 
 stout gingham." 
 
 Mr. Rooper nodded his head. " Very good," he 
 said. "And is that all ? " 
 
 " No," said Asaph, " it ain t all. There is one 
 more thing I want, and that is a dictionary." 
 
 The other man rose to his feet, " Upon my 
 word," he exclaimed, " I never before saw a man 
 that would sell his sister for a dictionary. And 
 what you want with a dictionary is past my con- 
 ceivin ." 
 
 " Well, it ain t past mine," said Asaph. " For 
 
54 ASAPH. 
 
 more than ten years I have wanted a dictionary. 
 If I had a dictionary I could make use of my head 
 in a way that I can t now. There is books in this 
 house, but amongst em there is no dictionary. If 
 there had been one, I d been a different man by this 
 time from what I am now, and like as not Marietta 
 wouldn t have wanted any other man in the house 
 but me." 
 
 Mr. Rooper stood looking upon the ground ; and 
 Asaph, who had also arisen, waited for him to 
 speak. " You are a graspin man, Asaph," said 
 Thomas. " But there is another thing I d like to 
 know ; if I give you them clothes, you don t want 
 them before she s married ? " 
 
 " Yes, I do," said Asaph. " If I come to the 
 weddin , I can t wear these things. I have got to 
 have them first." 
 
 Mr. Rooper gave his head a little twist. " There s 
 many a slip twixt the cup and the lip," said 
 he. 
 
 " Yes," said Asaph ; " and there s different cups 
 and different lips. But what s more, if I was to be 
 best man, which \vould be nateral, considerin I m 
 your friend and her brother, you wouldn t want me 
 
ASAPH. 55 
 
 standin up in this rig. And that s puttin it in your 
 own point of view, Thomas." 
 
 " It strikes me," said the other, " that I could get 
 a best man that would furnish his own clothes ; but 
 we will see about that. There s another thing, 
 Asaph," he said abruptly, " what are Mrs. Himes s 
 views concernin pipes ? " 
 
 This question startled and frightened Asaph. 
 He knew that his sister could not abide the smell 
 of tobacco, and that Mr. Rooper was an inveterate 
 smoker. 
 
 " That depends," said he, " on the kind of tobacco. 
 I don t mind sayin that Marietta isn t partial to 
 the kind of tobacco I smoke. But I ain t a 
 moneyed man, and I can t afford to buy nothin but 
 cheap stuff. But when it comes to a meerschaum 
 pipe and the very finest Virginia or North Carolina 
 smoking tobacco, such as a moneyed man would be 
 likely to use 
 
 At this moment there came from the house the 
 sound of a woman s voice, not loud, but clear and 
 distinct, and it said " Asaph." 
 
 This word sent through Mr. Rooper a gentle 
 thrill such as he did not remember ever having felt 
 
56 ASAPH. 
 
 before. There seemed to be in it a suggestion, a 
 sort of prophecy, of what appeared to him as an 
 undefined and chaotic bliss. He was not a fanciful 
 man, but he could not help imagining himself 
 standing alone under that chestnut tree and that 
 voice calling " Thomas." 
 
 Upon Asaph the effect was different. The inter 
 ruption was an agreeable one in one way, because 
 it cut short his attempted explanation of the to 
 bacco question ; but in another way he kn.?w that 
 it meant the swinging of an axe, and that was not 
 pleasant. 
 
 Mr. Rooper walked back to the tavern in a cogi 
 tative state of mind. " That Asaph Scantle," he 
 said to himself, " has got a headpiece, there s no 
 denying it. If it had not been for him I do not 
 believe I should have thought of his sister ; at least 
 not until the Mcjimseys had left my house, and 
 then it might have been too late." 
 
 Marietta Himes was a woman with a gentle 
 voice and an appearance and demeanour indicative 
 of a general softness of disposition, but beneath 
 this mild exterior there was a great deal of firmness 
 of purpose. Asaph had not seen very much of his 
 
ASAPH. 57 
 
 sister since she had grown up and married ; and 
 when he came to live with her he thought that he 
 was going to have things pretty much his own way. 
 But it was not long before he entirely changed his 
 mind. 
 
 Mrs. Himes was of moderate height, pleasant 
 countenance, and a figure inclined to plumpness. 
 Her dark hair, in which there was not a line of 
 gray, was brushed down smoothly on each side of 
 her face, and her dress, while plain, was extremely 
 neat. In fact, everything in the house and on the 
 place was extremely neat, except Asaph. 
 
 She was in the bright little dining-room which 
 looked out on the flower garden, preparing the 
 table for supper, placing every plate, dish, glass, and 
 cup with as much care and exactness as if a civil 
 engineer had drawn a plan on the tablecloth, with 
 places marked for the position of each article. 
 
 As she finished her work by placing a chair on 
 each side of the table, a quiet smile, the result of 
 a train of thought in which she had been indulging 
 for the past half-hour, stole over her face. She 
 passed through the kitchen, with a glance at the 
 stove to see if the tea-kettle had begun to boil, and 
 
58 ASAPH. 
 
 going out of the back door, she walked over to the 
 shed where her brother was splitting kindling 
 wood. 
 
 " Asaph," said Mrs. Himes, " if I were to give 
 you a good suit of clothes, would you promise me 
 that you would never smoke when wearing them? " 
 
 Her brother looked at her in amazement. 
 " Clothes ! " he repeated. 
 
 " Mr. Himes was about your size," said his sister, 
 " and he left a good many clothes, which are most 
 of them very good and carefully packed away, so 
 that I am sure there is not a moth hole in any one 
 of them. I have several times thought, Asaph, 
 that I might give you some of his clothes ; but it 
 did seem to me a desecration to have the clothes of 
 such a man, who was so particular and nice, filled 
 and saturated with horrible tobacco smoke which 
 he detested. But now you are getting to be so 
 awful shabby, I do not see how I can stand it any 
 longer. But one thing I will not do, I will not 
 have Mr. Himes s clothes smelling of tobacco as 
 yours do, and not only your own tobacco but Mr. 
 Rooper s." 
 
 " I think," said Asaph, " that you are not exactly 
 
ASAPH. 59 
 
 right just there. What you smell about me is my 
 smoke. Thomas Rooper never uses anything but 
 the finest scented and delicatest brands. I think 
 that if you come to get used to his tobacco smoke 
 you would like it. But as to my takin off my 
 clothes and puttin on a different suit every time I 
 want to light my pipe, that s pretty hard lines, it 
 seems to me." 
 
 "It would be a good deal easier to give up the 
 pipe," said his sister. 
 
 " I will do that," said Asaph, " when you give up 
 tea. But you know as well as I do that there s no 
 use of either of us a-tryin to change our comfort 
 able habits at our time of life." 
 
 " I kept on hoping," said Mrs. Himes, " that you 
 would feel yourself that you were not fit to be seen 
 by decent people, and that you would go to work 
 and earn at least enough money to buy yourself 
 some clothes. But as you don t seem inclined to 
 do that, I thought I would make you this offer. 
 But you must understand that I will not have you 
 smoke in Mr. Himes s clothes." 
 
 Asaph stood thinking, the head of his axe 
 resting upon the ground, a position which suited 
 
60 ASAPH. 
 
 him. He was in a little perplexity. Marietta s 
 proposition seemed to interfere somewhat with the 
 one he had made to Thomas Rooper. Here was a 
 state of affairs which required most careful con 
 sideration. "I ve been arrangin about some 
 clothes," he said presently, " for I know very well 
 I need em ; but I don t know just yet how it will 
 turn out." 
 
 "I hope, Asaph," said Marietta quickly, "that 
 you are not thinking of going into debt for cloth 
 ing, and I know that you haven t been working to 
 earn money. What arrangements have you been 
 making ? " 
 
 " That s my private affair," said Asaph, " but 
 there s no debt in it. It is all fair and square 
 cash down, so to speak ; though, of course, it s not 
 cash, but work. But, as I said before, that isn t 
 settled." 
 
 "I am afraid, Asaph," said his sister, "that if you 
 have to do the work first you will never get the 
 clothes, and so you might as well come back to my 
 offer." 
 
 Asaph came back to it and thought about it 
 very earnestly. If by any chance he could get 
 two suits of clothes, he would then feel that he 
 
ASAPH. 61 
 
 had a head worth having. "What would you say," 
 he said presently, " if when I wanted to smoke I 
 was to put on a long duster I guess Mr. Himes 
 had dusters and a nightcap and rubbers? I d 
 agree to hang the duster and the cap in the shed 
 here and never smoke without putting em on." 
 There was a deep purpose in this proposition, for, 
 enveloped in the long duster, he might sit with 
 Thomas Rooper under the chestnut tree and smoke 
 and talk and plan as long as he pleased, and his 
 companion would not know that he did not need a 
 new suit of clothes. 
 
 "Nonsense," said Mrs. Himes ; "you must make 
 up your mind to act perfectly fairly, Asaph, or else 
 say you will not accept my offer. But if you don t 
 accept it, I can t see how you can keep on living 
 with me." 
 
 "What do you mean by clothes, Marietta?" 
 he asked. 
 
 " Well, I mean a complete suit, of course," said 
 she. 
 
 " Winter or summer ? " 
 
 " I hadn t thought of that," Mrs. Himes replied, 
 " but that can be as you choose." 
 
 " Overcoat ? " asked Asaph. 
 
62 ASAPH. 
 
 " Yes," said she, " and cane and umbrella, if you 
 like, and pocket-hankerchiefs too. I will fit you 
 out completely, and shall be glad to have you look 
 ing like a decent man." 
 
 At the mention of the umbrella another line of 
 perplexity showed itself upon Asaph s brow. The 
 idea came to him that if she would add a dictionary 
 he would strike a bargain. Thomas Rooper was 
 certainly a very undecided and uncertain sort of 
 man. But then there came up the thought of 
 his pipe, and he was all at sea again. Giving 
 up smoking was almost the same as giving up 
 eating. " Marietta," said he, " I will think about 
 this." 
 
 "Very well," she answered, "but it s my opinion, 
 Asaph, that you ought not to take more than one 
 minute to think about it. However, I will give 
 you until to-morrow morning, and then if you de 
 cide that you don t care to look like a respectable 
 citizen, I must have some further talk with you 
 about our future arrangements." 
 
 " Make it to-morrow night," said Asaph. And 
 his sister consented. 
 
 The next day Asaph was unusually brisk and 
 
ASAPH. 63 
 
 active ; and very soon after breakfast he walked 
 over to the village tavern to see Mr. Rooper. 
 
 " Hello ! " exclaimed that individual, surprised 
 at his visitor s early appearance at the business 
 centre of the village. u What s started you out ? 
 Have you come after them clothes ? " 
 
 A happy thought struck Asaph. He had made 
 this visit with the intention of feeling his way to 
 wards some decision on the important subject of 
 his sister s proposition, and here a way seemed to 
 be opened to him. " Thomas," said he, taking his 
 friend aside, " I am in an awful fix. Marietta can t 
 stand my clothes any longer. If she can t stand 
 them she can t stand me, and when it comes to 
 that, you can see for yourself that I can t help 
 you." 
 
 A shade settled upon Mr. Rooper s face. During 
 the past evening he had been thinking and puffing, 
 and puffing and thinking until everybody else in 
 the tavern had gone to bed, and he had finally 
 made up his mind that, if he could do it, he would 
 marry Marietta Himes. He had never been very 
 intimate with her or her husband, but he had been 
 to meals in the house, and he remembered the 
 
64 AS A PH. 
 
 fragrant coffee and the light, puffy, well-baked 
 rolls made by Marietta s own hands ; and he 
 thought of the many differences between living in 
 that very good house with that gentle, pleasant- 
 voiced lady and his present life in the village 
 tavern. 
 
 And so, having determined that without delay 
 he would, with the advice and assistance of Asaph, 
 begin his courtship, it was natural that he should 
 feel a shock of discouragement when he heard 
 Asaph s announcement that his sister could not 
 endure him in the house any longer. To attack 
 that house and its owner without the friendly 
 offices upon which he depended was an under 
 taking for which he was not at all prepared. 
 
 " I don t wonder at her," he said, sharply, " not a 
 bit. But this puts a mighty different face on the 
 thing what we talked about yesterday." 
 
 " It needn t," said Asaph, quietly. " The clothes 
 you was goin to give me wouldn t cost a cent more 
 to-day than they would in a couple of months, say ; 
 and when I ve got em on Marietta will be glad to 
 have me around. Everything can go on just as we 
 bargained for." 
 
ASAPH. 65 
 
 Thomas shook his head. " That would be a 
 mighty resky piece of business," he said. " You 
 would be all right, but that s not sayin that I 
 would ; for it strikes me that your sister is 
 about as much a bird in the bush as any flyin 
 critter." 
 
 Asaph smiled. " If the bush was in the middle 
 of a field," said he, " and there was only one boy 
 after the bird, it would be a pretty tough job. But 
 if the bush is in the corner of two high walls, and 
 there s two boys, and one of em s got a fish-net 
 what he can throw clean over the bush, why, then 
 the chances is a good deal better. But droppin 
 figgers, Thomas, and speakin plain and straight 
 forward, as I always do - " 
 
 " About things you want to git," interrupted 
 Thomas. 
 
 " About everything," resumed Asaph. " I ll just 
 tell you this : if I don t git decent clothes now, to 
 day, or perhaps to-morrow, I have got to travel out 
 of Marietta s house. I can do it, and she knows 
 it. I can go back to Drummondville, and git my 
 board for keepin books in the store, and nobody 
 there cares what sort of clothes I wear. But when 
 
66 ASAPH. 
 
 that happens, your chances of gittin Marietta goes 
 up higher than a kite." 
 
 To the mind of Mr. Rooper this was most con 
 clusive reasoning ; but he would not admit it, and 
 he did not like it. " Why don t your sister give 
 you clothes ? " he said. " Old Himes must have 
 left some." 
 
 A thin chill like a needleful of frozen thread ran 
 down Asaph s back. " Mr. Himes s clothes ! " he 
 exclaimed. "What in the world are you talkin 
 about, Thomas Rooper? Tain t likely he had 
 many cept what he was buried in, and what s left, 
 if there is any, Marietta would no more think of 
 givin away than she would of hangin up his 
 funeral wreath for the canary bird to perch on. 
 There s a room up in the garret where she keeps 
 his special things, for she s awful particular, and if 
 there is any of his clothes up there I expect she s 
 got em framed." 
 
 " If she thinks as much of him as that," muttered 
 Mr. Rooper. 
 
 " Now don t git any sech ideas as them into 
 your head, Thomas," said Asaph, quickly. 
 " Marietta ain t a woman to rake up the past, 
 
ASAPH. 67 
 
 and you never need be afraid of her rakin up 
 Mr. Himes. All of the premises will be hern and 
 yourn, except that room in the garret, and it ain t 
 likely she ll ever ask you to go in there." 
 
 " The Lord knows I won t want to," ejaculated 
 Mr. Rooper. 
 
 The two men walked slowly to the end of a line 
 of well-used, or, rather, badly-used wooden arm 
 chairs which stood upon the tavern piazza., and 
 seated themselves. Mr. Rooper s mind was in a 
 highly perturbed condition. If he accepted 
 Asaph s present proposition he would have to 
 make a considerable outlay with a very shadowy 
 prospect of return. 
 
 "If you haven t got the ready money for the 
 clothes," said Asaph, after having given his com 
 panion some minutes for silent consideration, 
 " there ain t a man in this village what they would 
 trust sooner at the store for clothes," and then 
 after a pause he added, " or books, which, of course^ 
 they can order from town." 
 
 At this Mr. Roper simply shrugged his shoulders. 
 The question of ready money or credit did not 
 trouble him. 
 
 F2 
 
68 ASAPH. 
 
 At this moment a man in a low phaeton, drawn 
 by a stout grey horse, passed the tavern. 
 
 " Who s that ? " asked Asaph, who knew every 
 body in the village. 
 
 " That s Doctor Wicker," said Thomas. " He 
 lives over at Timberley. He tended John Himes 
 in his last sickness." 
 
 " He don t practise here, does he ? " said Asaph. 
 " I never see him." 
 
 " No ; but he was called in to consult." And 
 then the speaker dropped again into cogitation. 
 
 After a few minutes Asaph rose. He knew that 
 Thomas Rooper had a slow-working mind, and 
 thought it would be well to leave him to himself 
 for awhile. " I ll go home," said he, " and tend to 
 rny chores, and by the time you feel like comin up 
 and takin a smoke with me under the chestnut 
 tree, I reckon you will have made up your mind, 
 and we ll settle this thing. Fer if I have got to go 
 back to Drummondville, I s pose I ll have to pack 
 up this afternoon." 
 
 " If you d say pack off instead of pack up," 
 remarked the other, " you d come nearer the facts, 
 considerin the amount of your personal property. 
 But I ll be up there in an hour or two." 
 
ASAPH. 69 
 
 When Asaph came within sight of his sister s 
 house he was amazed to see a phaeton and a grey 
 horse standing in front of the gate. From this it 
 was easy to infer that the doctor was in the house. 
 What on earth could have happened ? Was any 
 thing the matter with Marietta ? And if so, why 
 did she send for a physician who lived at a 
 distance, instead of Doctor Mcllvaine, the village 
 doctor ? In a very anxious state of mind Asaph 
 reached the gate, and irresolutely went into the 
 yard. His impulse was to go to the house and see 
 what had happened : but he hesitated. He felt 
 that Marietta might object to having a com 
 parative stranger know that such an exceedingly 
 shabby fellow was her brother. And, besides, his 
 sister could not have been overtaken by any 
 sudden illness. She had always appeared per 
 fectly well, and there would have been no time 
 during his brief absence from the house to send 
 over to Timberley for a doctor. 
 
 So he sat down under the chestnut tree to con 
 sider this strange condition of affairs. " Whatever 
 it is," he said to himself, " it s nothin suddint and 
 it s bound to be chronic, and that ll skeer Thomas. 
 
70 ASAPH. 
 
 I wish I hadn t asked him to come up here. 
 The best thing for me to do will be to pretend 
 that I have been sent to get something at the 
 store, and go straight back and keep him from 
 comin up." 
 
 But Asaph was a good deal quicker to think 
 than to move, and he still sat with brows wrinkled 
 and mind beset by doubts. For a moment he 
 thought that it might be well to accept Marietta s 
 proposition and let Thomas go ; but then he 
 remembered the conditions, and he shut his mental 
 eyes at the prospect. 
 
 At that moment the gate opened and in walked 
 Thomas Rooper. He had made up his mind and 
 had come to say so ; but the sight of the phaeton 
 and grey horse caused him to postpone his in 
 tended announcement. " What s Doctor Wicker 
 doin here ? " he asked, abruptly. 
 
 " Dunno," said Asaph, as carelessly as he could 
 speak. " I don t meddle with household matters of 
 that kind. I expect it somethin the matter with 
 that girl Betsey that Marietta hires to help her. 
 She s always wrong some way or other, so that she 
 can t do her own proper work, which I know, 
 
ASAPH. 71 
 
 havin to do a good deal of it myself. I expect it s 
 rickets, like as not. Gals do have that sort of 
 thing, don t they ? " 
 
 " Never had anything to do with sick gals," said 
 Thomas, "or sick people of any sort, and don t 
 want to. But it must be somethin pretty deep- 
 seated for your sister to send all the way to 
 Timberley for a doctor." 
 
 Asaph knew very well that Mrs. Himes was too 
 economical a person to think of doing such a 
 thing as that, and he knew also that Betsey was as 
 good a specimen of rustic health as could be 
 found in the county. And therefore his com 
 panion s statement that he wanted to have nothing 
 to do with sick people had for him a saddening 
 import. 
 
 " I settled that business of yourn," said Mr. 
 Rooper, " pretty soon after you left me. I thought 
 I might as well come round and tell you about it. 
 I ll make you a fair and square offer. I ll give you 
 them clothes, though it strikes me that winter 
 goods will be pretty heavy for this time of year ; 
 but it will be on this condition : if I don t get 
 Marietta, you have got to give em back." 
 
72 ASAPH. 
 
 Asaph smiled. 
 
 " I know what you are grinnin at," said 
 Thomas; "but you needn t think that you are goin 
 to have the wearin of them clothes for two or 
 three months and then give em back, I don t go 
 in for any long courtships. What I do in that line 
 will be short and sharp." 
 
 " How short ? " asked Asaph. 
 
 " Well, this is Thursday," replied the other, " and 
 I calculate to ask her on Monday." 
 
 Asaph looked at his companion in amazement. 
 " By George ! " he exclaimed, " that won t work. 
 Why, it took Marietta more n five days to make up 
 her mind whether she would have the chicken- 
 house painted green or red, and you can t expect 
 her to be quicker than that in takin a new 
 husband. She d say No just as certain as she 
 would now if you was to go in and ask her right 
 before the doctor and Betsey. And I ll just tell 
 you plain that it wouldn t pay me to do all the 
 hustlin around and talkin and argyin and recom- 
 mendin that I d have to do just for the pleasure of 
 wearin a suit of warm clothes for four July days. 
 I tell you what it is, it won t do to spring that sort 
 
ASAPH. 73 
 
 of thing on a woman, especially when she s what 
 you might call a trained widder. You got to give 
 em time to think over the matter and to look up 
 your references. There s no use talkin about it ; 
 you must give em time, especially when the offer 
 comes from a person that nobody but me has ever 
 thought of as a marryin man." 
 
 " Humph ! " said Thomas. " That s all you know 
 about it." 
 
 " Facts is facts, and you can t git around em. 
 There isn t a woman in this village what wouldn t 
 take at least two weeks to git it into her head that 
 you was really courtin her. She would be just as 
 likely to think that you was trying to get a tenant 
 in place of the Mcjimseys. But a month of your 
 courtin and a month of my workin w^uld just 
 about make the matter all right with Marietta, and 
 then you could sail in and settle it." 
 
 " Very good," said Mr. Rooper, rising suddenly. 
 " I will court your sister for one month ; and if on 
 the i /th day of August she takes me, you can go 
 up to the store and git them clothes ; but you can t 
 do it one minute afore. Good mornin ." 
 
 Asaph, left alone, heaved a sigh. He did not 
 
74 ASAPH. 
 
 despair ; but truly, fate was heaping a great many 
 obstacles in his path. He thought it was a very 
 hard thing for a man to get his rights in this world. 
 
 Mrs. Himes sat on one end of a black hair-covered 
 sofa in the parlour, and Doctor Wicker sat on a 
 black hair-covered chair opposite to her and not 
 far away. The blinds of the window opening upon 
 the garden were drawn up ; but those on the front 
 window, which commanded a view of the chestnut 
 tree, were down. Doctor Wicker had just made a 
 proposal of marriage to Mrs. Himes, and at that 
 moment they were both sitting in silence. 
 
 The doctor, a bluff, hearty-looking man of about 
 forty-five, had been very favourably impressed by Mrs. 
 Himes when he first made her acquaintance, during 
 her husband s sickness, and since that time he had 
 seen her occasionally and had thought about her a 
 great deal. Latterly letters had passed between 
 them, and now he had come to make his declara 
 tion in person. 
 
 It was true, as her brother had said, that Marietta 
 was not quick in making up her mind. But in this 
 case she was able to act more promptly than usual 
 because she had in a great measure settled this 
 
ASAPH. 75 
 
 matter before the arrival of the doctor. She knew 
 he was going to propose, and she was very much 
 inclined to accept him. This it was which had 
 made her smile when she was setting the table the 
 afternoon before, and this it was which had prompted 
 her to make her proposition to her brother in re 
 gard to his better personal appearance. 
 
 But now she was in a condition of nervous trepi 
 dation and made no answer. The doctor thought 
 this was natural enough under the circumstances, 
 but he had no idea of the cause of it. The cause 
 of it was sitting under the chestnut tree, the bright 
 sunlight, streaming through a break in the branches 
 above, illuminating and emphasising and exagger 
 ating his extreme shabbiness. The doctor had 
 never seen Asaph, and it would have been a great 
 shock to Marietta s self-respect to have him see her 
 brother in his present aspect. 
 
 Through a crack in the blind of the front window 
 she had seen Asaph come in and sit down, and 
 she had seen Mr. Rooper arrive and had noticed 
 his departure. And now, with an anxiety which 
 made her chin tremble, she sat and hoped that 
 Asaph would get up and go away. For she knew 
 
;6 AS A PH. 
 
 that if she should say to the doctor what she was 
 perfectly willing to say then and there, he would 
 very soon depart, being a man of practical mind 
 and pressing business ; and that, going to the front 
 door with him, she would be obliged to introduce 
 him to a prospective brother-in-law whose appear 
 ance, she truly believed, would make him sick. For 
 the doctor was a man, she well knew, who was quite 
 as nice and particular about dress and personal 
 appearance as the late Mr. Himes had been. 
 
 Doctor Wicker, aware that the lady s perturba 
 tion was increasing instead of diminishing, thought 
 it wise not to press the matter at this moment. He 
 felt that he had been, perhaps, a little over-prompt 
 in making his proposition. " Madam," said he, 
 rising, " I will not ask you to give me an answer 
 now. I will go away and let you think about it 
 and will come again to-morrow." 
 
 Through the crack in the window-blind Marietta 
 saw that Asaph was still under the tree. What 
 could she do to delay the doctor ? She did not 
 offer to take leave of him, but stood looking upon 
 the floor. It seemed a shame to make so good a 
 man go all the way back to Timberley and come 
 
ASAPH. 77 
 
 again next day, just because that ragged, dirty 
 Asaph was sitting under the chestnut tree. 
 
 The doctor moved toward the door, and as she 
 followed him she glanced once more through the 
 crack in the window-blind, and, to her intense de 
 light, she saw Asaph jump up from the bench and 
 run around to the side of the house. He had heard 
 the doctor s footsteps in the hallway, and had not 
 wished to meet him. The unsatisfactory condition 
 of his outward appearance had been so strongly 
 impressed upon him of late that he had become a 
 little sensitive in regard to it when strangers were 
 concerned. But if he had only known that his ex 
 ceedingly unattractive garments had prevented his 
 sister from making a compact which would have 
 totally ruined his plans in regard to her matri 
 monial disposition and his own advantage, he would 
 have felt for those old clothes the respect and 
 gratitude with which a Roman soldier regarded the 
 shield and sword which had won him a battle. 
 
 Down the middle of the garden, at the back of 
 the house, there ran a path, and along this path 
 Asaph walked meditatively, with his hands in his 
 trousers pockets. It was a discouraging place for 
 
78 ASAPH. 
 
 him to walk, for the beds on each side of him were 
 full of weeds, which he had intended to pull out as 
 soon as he should find time for the work, but which 
 had now grown so tall and strong that they could 
 not be rooted up without injuring the plants which 
 were the legitimate occupants of the garden. 
 
 Asaph did not know it, but at this moment there 
 was not one person in the whole world who thought 
 kindly of him. His sister was so mortified by him 
 that she was in tears in the house. His crony, 
 Thomas, had gone away almost angry with him, 
 and even Betsey, whom he had falsely accused of 
 rickets, and who had often shown a pity for him 
 simply because he looked so forlorn, had steeled 
 her heart against him that morning when she found 
 he had gone away without providing her with any 
 fuel for the kitchen fire. 
 
 But he had not made a dozen turns up and 
 down the path before he became aware of the 
 feeling of Marietta. She looked out of the back 
 door and then walked rapidly toward him. 
 " Asaph," said she, " I hope you are considering 
 what I said to you yesterday, for I mean to stick 
 to my word. If you don t choose to accept my 
 
AS ATM. 79 
 
 offer, I want you to go back to Drummondville 
 early to-morrow morning. And I don t feel in the 
 least as if I were turning you out of the house, for I 
 have given you a chance to stay here and have 
 only asked you to act like a decent Christian. I 
 will not have you here disgracing my home. 
 When Doctor Wicker came to-day, and I looked 
 out and saw you with that miserable little coat 
 with the sleeves half-way up to the elbows and 
 great holes in it which you will not let anybody 
 patch, because you are too proud to wear patches, 
 and those wretched faded trousers, out at the 
 knees, and which have been turned up and hem 
 med at the bottom so often that they are six 
 inches above your shoes, and your whole scarcrow 
 appearance, I was so ashamed of you that I could 
 not keep the tears out of my eyes. To tell a 
 respectable gentleman like Doctor Wicker that 
 you were my brother was more than I could bear ; 
 and I was glad when I saw you get up and sneak 
 out of the way. I hate to talk to you in this 
 way, Asaph, but you have brought it on your 
 self." 
 
 Her brother looked at her a moment. " Do 
 
8o AS A PH. 
 
 you want me to go away before breakfast ? " he 
 said. 
 
 " No," answered Marietta, " but immediately 
 afterward." And in her mind she resolved that 
 breakfast should be very early the next morning. 
 
 If Asaph had any idea of yielding he did not 
 intend to show it until the last moment, and so 
 he changed the subject. " What s the matter with 
 Betsey?" said he. "If she s out of health you d 
 better get rid of her." 
 
 " There s nothing the matter with Betsey," an 
 swered his sister. " Doctor Wicker came to see 
 me." 
 
 " Came to see you ! " exclaimed her brother. 
 " What in the world did he clo that for ? you never 
 told me that you were ailin . Is it that sprain in 
 your ankle ? " 
 
 " Nonsense," said Marietta. " I had almost 
 recovered from that sprain when you came here. 
 There s nothing the matter with my ankle, the 
 trouble is probably with my heart." 
 
 The moment she said this she regretted it, for 
 Asaph had such a good head, and could catch 
 meanings so quickly. 
 
ASAPH. 81 
 
 " I m sorry to hear that, Marietta," said Asaph. 
 " That s a good deal more serious." 
 
 " Yes," said she. And she turned and went 
 back to the house. 
 
 Asaph continued to walk up and down the path. 
 He had not done a stroke of work that morning, 
 but he did not think of that. His sister s com 
 munication saddened him. He liked Marietta, 
 and it grieved him to hear that she had anything 
 the matter with her heart. He knew that that 
 often happened to people who looked perfectly 
 well, and there was no reason why he should have 
 suspected any disorder in her. Of course, in this 
 case, there was good reason for her sending for 
 the very best doctor to be had. It was all plain 
 enough to him now. 
 
 But as he walked and walked and walked, and 
 looked at the garden and looked at the little 
 orchard and looked at the house and the top of 
 the big chestnut tree, which showed itself above 
 the roof, a thought came into his mind which had 
 never been there before he was Marietta s heir. 
 It was a dreadful thing to think of his sister s 
 
 possible early departure from this world ; but after 
 
 G 
 
82 AS A PH. 
 
 all, life is life, reality is reality, and business is 
 business. He was Marietta s only legal heir. 
 
 Of course he had known this before, but it had 
 never seemed to be of any importance. He was 
 a good deal older than she was, and he had 
 always looked upon her as a marrying woman. 
 When he made his proposition to Mr. Rooper the 
 thought of his own heirship never came into his 
 mind. In fact, if anyone had offered him ten 
 dollars for said heirship he would have asked 
 fifteen and would have afterward agreed to split 
 the difference and take twelve and a half. 
 
 But now everything had changed. If Marietta 
 had anything the matter with her heart, there was 
 no knowing when all that he saw might be his 
 own. No sooner had he walked and thought long 
 enough for his mind to fully appreciate the altered 
 aspects of his future than he determined to in 
 stantly thrust out Mr. Rooper from all connection 
 with that future. He would go and tell him so at 
 once. 
 
 To the dismay of Betsey, who had been watch 
 ing him, expecting that he would soon stop 
 walking about and go and saw some wood with 
 
 
ASAPH. 83 
 
 which to cook the dinner, he went out of the front 
 gate and strode rapidly into the village. He had 
 some trouble in finding Mr. Rooper, who had gone 
 off to take a walk and arrange a conversation 
 with which to begin his courtship of Mrs. Himes, 
 but he overtook him under a tree by the side of 
 the creek. " Thomas," said he, " I have changed 
 my mind about that business between us. You 
 have been very hard on me, and I m not goin to 
 stand it. I can get the clothes and things I need 
 without makin myself your slave and workin 
 myself to death, and, perhaps, settin my sister 
 agin me for life by tryin to make her believe 
 that black s white, that you are the kind of hus 
 band she ought to have, and that you hate pipes 
 and never touch spirits. It would be a mean 
 thing for me to do and I won t do it. I did think 
 you were a generous-minded man with the right 
 sort of feeling for them as wanted to be your 
 friends, but I have found out that I was mistook, 
 and I m not goin to sacrifice my sister to any 
 such person. Now that s my state of mind plain 
 and square." 
 
 Thomas Rooper shrunk two inches in height. 
 
 G 2 
 
84 ASAPH. 
 
 " Asaph Scantle," he said, in a voice which seemed 
 also to have shrunk, a I don t understand you. I 
 wasn t hard on you. I only wanted to make a 
 fair bargain. If I d got her I d paid up cash on 
 delivery. You couldn t expect a man to do more 
 than that. But I tell you, Asaph, that I am 
 mighty serious about this. The more I have 
 thought about your sister the more I want her. 
 And when I tell you that I ve been a-thinkin 
 about her pretty much all night you may know, 
 that I want her a good deal. And I was 
 intendin to go to-morrow and begin to court 
 her." 
 
 " Well, you needn t," said Asaph. " It won t do 
 no good. If you don t have me to back you up 
 you might as well try to twist that tree as to move 
 her. You can t do it." 
 
 " But you don t mean to go agin me, do you, 
 Asaph ? " asked Thomas, ruefully. 
 
 " Taint necessary," replied the other. " You 
 will go agin yourself." 
 
 For a few moments Mr. Rooper remained silent. 
 He was greatly discouraged and dismayed by 
 what had been said to him, but he could not yet 
 
ASAPH. 85 
 
 give up what had become the great object of his 
 life. " Asaph," said he, presently, " it cuts me to 
 the in ards to think that you have gone back on 
 me ; but I tell you what I ll do, if you will promise 
 not to say anything agin me to Mrs. Himes, and 
 not to set yourself in any way between me and 
 her, I ll go along with you to the store now and 
 you can git that suit of clothes and the umbrella, 
 and I ll tell em to order the dictionary and hand 
 it over to you as soon as it comes. I d like you 
 to help me, but if you will only promise to stand 
 out of the way and not hinder, I ll do the fair 
 thing by you and pay in advance." 
 
 " Humph ! " said Asaph. " I do believe you 
 think you are the only man that wants Marietta." 
 
 A pang passed through the heart of Mr. 
 Rooper. He had been thinking a great deal of 
 Mrs. Himes and everything connected with her, 
 and he had even thought of that visit of Doctor 
 Wicker s. That gentleman was a widower and a 
 well-to-do and well-appearing man ; and it would 
 have been a long way for him to come just for 
 some trifling rickets in a servant girl. Being 
 really in love, his imagination was in a very 
 
86 AS A PH. 
 
 capering mood, and he began to fear that the 
 doctor had come to court Mrs. Himes. " Asaph," 
 he said quickly, " that s a good offer I make you. 
 If you take it, in less than an hour you can walk 
 home looking like a gentleman." 
 
 Asaph had taken his reed pipe from his coat 
 pocket and was filling it. As he pushed the 
 coarse tobacco into the bowl, he considered. 
 " Thomas," said he, " that ain t enough. Things 
 have changed, and it wouldn t pay me. But I 
 won t be hard on you. I m a good friend of yourn 
 and I ll tell you what I ll do. If you will give me 
 now all the things we spoke of between us and 
 I forgot to mention a cane and pocket hanker- 
 chiefs and give me, besides, that meerschaum 
 pipe of yourn, I ll promise not to hinder you, but 
 let you go ahead and git Marietta if you kin. I 
 must say it s a good deal for me to do, knowin 
 how much you ll git and how little you ll give, 
 and knowin , too, the other chances she s got if 
 she wanted em ; but I ll do it for the sake of 
 friendship." 
 
 " My meerschaum pipe ! " groaned Mr. Rooper. 
 " My Centennial Exhibition pipe ! " His tones 
 
ASAPH. 87 
 
 were so plaintive that for a moment Asaph felt a 
 little touch of remorse. But then he reflected that 
 if Thomas really did get Marietta the pipe would 
 be of no use to him, for she would not allow him 
 to smoke it. And, besides, realities were realities 
 and business was business. " That pipe may be 
 very dear to you," he said, "Thomas, but I want 
 you to remember that Marietta s very dear to 
 me." 
 
 This touched Mr. Rooper, whose heart was 
 sensitive as it had never been before. " Come 
 along, Asaph," he said. " You shall have every 
 thing, meerschaum pipe included. If anybody but 
 me is going to smoke that pipe I d like it to be my 
 brother-in-law." Thus, with amber-tipped guile 
 Mr. Rooper hoped to win over his friend to not 
 only not hinder, but to help him. 
 
 As the two men walked away, Asaph thought 
 that he was not acting an unfraternal part toward 
 Marietta, for it would not be necessary for him to 
 say or do anything to induce her to refuse so un 
 suitable a suitor as Thomas Rooper. 
 
 About fifteen minutes before dinner which had 
 been cooked with bits of wood which Betsey had 
 
88 ASAPH. 
 
 picked up here and there was ready, Asaph 
 walked into the front yard of his sister s house 
 attired in a complete suit of new clothes, thick and 
 substantial in texture, pepper-and-salt in colour, and 
 as long in the legs and arms as the most fastidious 
 could desire. He had on a new shirt and a clean 
 collar, with a handsome black silk cravat tied in a 
 great bow, and a new felt hat was on his head. On 
 his left arm he carried an overcoat, carefully folded 
 with the lining outside, and in his right hand an 
 umbrella and a cane. In his pockets were half a 
 dozen new handkerchiefs and the case containing 
 Mr. Rooper s Centennial meerschaum. 
 
 Marietta, who was in the hallway when he 
 opened the front door, scarcely knew him as he 
 approached. " Asaph ! " she exclaimed. " What 
 has happened to you ? Why, you actually look 
 like a gentleman ! " 
 
 Asaph grinned. " Do you want me to go to 
 Drummondville right after breakfast to-morrow ? " 
 he asked. 
 
 " My dear brother," said Marietta, " don t crush 
 me by talking about that. But if you could have 
 seen yourself as I saw you, and could have felt as I 
 
ASAPH. 89 
 
 felt, you would not wonder at me. You must for 
 get all that. I should be proud now to introduce 
 you as my brother to any doctor or king or presi 
 dent. But tell me how you got those beautiful 
 clothes." 
 
 Asaph was sometimes beset by an absurd regard 
 for truth, which much annoyed him. He could 
 not say that he had worked for the clothes, and he 
 did not wish his sister to think that he had run in 
 debt for them. " They re paid for, every thread 
 of em," he said. " I got em in trade. These 
 things is mine, and I don t owe no man a cent for 
 em ; and it seems to me that dinner must be 
 ready." 
 
 " And proud I am," said Marietta, who never 
 before had shown such enthusiastic affection for 
 her brother, " to sit down to the table with such a 
 nice-looking fellow as you are." 
 
 The next morning Mr. Rooper came into Mrs. 
 Himes s yard and there beheld Asaph in all the 
 glory of his new clothes sitting under the chestnut 
 tree smoking the Centennial meerschaum pipe. 
 Mr. Rooper himself was dressed in his very best 
 clothes, but he carried with him no pipe. 
 
QO AS A PH. 
 
 " Sit down," said Asaph, " and have a smoke." 
 
 " No," replied the other, " I am goin in the 
 house. I have come to see your sister." 
 
 " Goin to begin already ? " said Asaph. 
 
 " Yes," said the other, " I told you I was going 
 to begin to-day." 
 
 " Very good," said his friend, crossing his pepper- 
 and-salt legs, "and you will finish the I7th of 
 August. That s a good reasonable time." 
 
 But Mr. Rooper had no intention of courting 
 Mrs. Himes for a month. He intended to propose 
 to her that very morning. He had been turning 
 over the matter in his mind, and for several reasons 
 had come to this conclusion. In the first place, he 
 did not believe that he could trust Asaph, even for 
 a single day, not to oppose him. Furthermore, his 
 mind was in such a turmoil from the combined 
 effect of the constantly present thought that Asaph 
 was wearing his clothes, his hat, and his shoes, and 
 smoking his beloved pipe, and of the perplexities 
 and agitations consequent upon his sentiments to 
 ward Mrs. Himes, that he did not believe he could 
 bear the mental strain during another night. 
 
 Five minutes later Marietta Himes was sitting 
 
ASAPH. 91 
 
 on the horse-hair sofa in the parlour with Mr. 
 Rooper on the horse-hair chair opposite to her and 
 not very far away, and he was delivering the 
 address which he had prepared. 
 
 " Madam," said he, " I am a man that takes 
 things in this world as they comes, and is content 
 to wait until the time comes for them to come. I 
 was well acquainted with John Himes. I knowed 
 him in life and I helped lay him out. As long as 
 there was reason to suppose that the late Mr. 
 Himes I mean that the grass over the grave of 
 Mr. Himes had remained unwithered, I am not the 
 man to take one step in the direction of his shoes, 
 nor even to consider the size of em in connection 
 with the measure of my own feet. But time will 
 pass on in nater as well as in real life ; and while I 
 know very well, Mrs. Himes, that certain feelin s 
 towards them that was is like the leaves of the oak 
 tree and can t be blowed off even by the fiercest 
 tempests of affliction, still them leaves will wither 
 in the fall and turn brown and curl up at the 
 edges, though they don t depart, but stick on tight 
 as wax all winter until in the spring-time they is 
 pushed off gently without knowin it by the green 
 
92 AS A PH. 
 
 leaves which come out in real life as well as 
 nater." 
 
 When he had finished this opening Mr. Roopcr 
 breathed a little sigh of relief. He had not 
 forgotten any of it, and it pleased him. 
 
 Marietta sat and looked at him. She had a good 
 sense of humour, and, while she was naturally sur 
 prised at what had been said to her, she was 
 greatly amused by it, and really wished to hear 
 what else Thomas Rooper had to say to her. 
 
 " Now, madam," he continued, " I am not the 
 man to thrash a tree with a pole to knock the 
 leaves off before their time. But when the young 
 leaves is pushin and the old leaves is droppin 
 (not to make any allusion, of course, to any 
 shrivellin of proper respect), then I come for 
 ward, madam, not to take the place of anybody 
 else, but just as the nateral consequence of 
 the seasons, which everybody ought to expect ; 
 even such as you, madam, which I may liken to a 
 hemlock - spruce which keeps straight on in the 
 same general line of appearance without no refer 
 ence to the fall of the year, nor winter, nor summer. 
 And so, Mrs. Himes, I come here to-day to offer 
 
ASAPH. 93 
 
 to lead you agin to the altar. I have never been 
 there myself, and there ain t no woman in the 
 world that I d go with but you. I m a straight 
 forward person, and when I ve got a thing to say, I 
 say it, and now I have said it. And so I set here 
 awaitin your answer." 
 
 At this moment the shutters of the front win 
 dow, which had been closed, were opened, and 
 Asaph put in his head. " Look here, Thomas 
 Rooper," he said, " these shoes is pegged. I 
 didn t bargain for no pegged shoes ; I wanted em 
 sewed ; everything was to be first-class." 
 
 Mr. Rooper, who had been leaning forward in 
 his chair, his hands upon his knees, and his face 
 glistening with his expressed feelings as brightly 
 as the old-fashioned but shining silk hat which 
 stood on the floor by his side, turned his head, 
 grew red to the ears, and then sprang to his feet. 
 " Asaph Scantle," he cried, with extended fist, 
 " you have broke your word ; you hindered." 
 
 " No, I didn t," said Asaph, sulkily ; "but pegged 
 shoes is too much for any man to stand." And he 
 withdrew from the window, closing the shutters 
 again. 
 
94 ASAPH. 
 
 "What does this mean?" asked Mrs. Himes, 
 who had also risen. 
 
 " It means," said Thomas, speaking with diffi 
 culty, his indignation was so great, "that your 
 brother is a person of tricks and meanders beyond 
 the reach of common human calculation. I don t 
 like to say this of a man who is more or less likely 
 to be my brother-in-law, but I can t help sayin it, 
 so entirely upset am I at his goin back on me at 
 such a minute." 
 
 "Going back on you?" asked Mrs. Himes. 
 " What do you mean ? What has he promised ? " 
 
 Thomas hesitated. He did not wish to inter 
 rupt his courtship by the discussion of any new 
 question, especially this question. "If we could 
 settle what we have been talkin about, Mrs. 
 Himes," he said, " and if you would give me my 
 answer, then I could git my mind down to com 
 moner things. But swingin on a hook as I am, I 
 don t know whether my head or my heels is upper 
 most, or what s revolvin around me." 
 
 " Oh, 1 can give you your answer quickly 
 enough," she cried. " It is impossible for me to 
 marry you, so that s all settled." 
 
ASAPH, 95 
 
 " Impossible is a big word," said Mr. Rooper. 
 " Has anybody else got afore me ? " 
 
 " I am not bound to answer that question," said 
 Marietta, slightly colouring ; " but I cannot accept 
 you, Mr. Rooper." 
 
 " Then there s somebody else, of course," said 
 Thomas, gazing darkly upon the floor. " And 
 what s more, Asaph knew it ; that s just as clear 
 as daylight. That s what made him come to me 
 yesterday and go back on his first bargain." 
 
 " Now then," said Mrs. Himes, speaking very 
 decidedly, " I want to know what you mean by 
 this talk about bargains." 
 
 Mr. Rooper knit his brows. " This is mighty 
 different talk," he said, " from the kind I expected 
 when I come here. But you have an;wered 
 my question, now I ll answer yours. Asaph 
 Scantle, no longer ago than day before yester 
 day, after hearin that things wasn t goin very 
 well with me, recommended me to marry you, 
 and agreed that he would do his level best, by 
 day and by night, to help me git you, if I would 
 give him a suit of clothes, an umbrella, and a 
 dictionary." 
 
96 AS A PH. 
 
 At this Mrs. Himes gave a little gasp and sat 
 down. 
 
 " Now, I hadn t no thoughts of trad in for a 
 wife," continued Thomas, " especially in woollen 
 goods and books, but when I considered and 
 turned the matter over in my mind, and thought 
 what a woman you was, and what a life there was 
 afore me if I got you, I agreed to do it. Then he 
 wanted pay aforehand, and that I wouldn t agree 
 to, not because I thought you wasn t wuth it, but 
 because I couldn t trust him if anybody offered 
 him more before I got you. But that ain t the 
 wust of it ; yesterday he come down to see me 
 and went back on his bargain, and that, after I 
 I had spent the whole night thinkin of you and 
 what I was goin to say. And he put on such 
 high-cockalorum airs that I, bein as soft as mush 
 around the heart, just wilted and agreed to give 
 him everything he bargained for if he would 
 promise not to hinder. But he wasn t satisfied 
 with that and wouldn t come to no terms until I d 
 give him my Centennial pipe, what s been like a 
 child to me this many a year. And when he saw 
 how disgruntled I was at sich a loss, he said my 
 
ASAPH. 97 
 
 pipe might be very dear to me, but his sister was 
 jest as dear to him. And then, on top of the 
 whole thing, he pokes his head through the shutters 
 and hinders jest at the most ticklish moment." 
 
 " A dictionary and a pipe ! " ejaculated poor 
 Marietta, her eyes fixed upon the floor. 
 
 " But I m goin to make him give em all back," 
 exclaimed Thomas. " They was the price of not 
 hinderin , and he hindered." 
 
 " He shall give them back," said Marietta, rising, 
 " but you must understand, Mr. Rooper, that in no 
 way did Asaph interfere with your marrying me. 
 That was a matter with which he did have and 
 could have nothing to do. And now I wish you 
 could get away without speaking to him. I do not 
 want any quarrelling or high words here, and I will 
 see him and arrange the matter better than you 
 can do it." 
 
 "Oh, I can git away without speakin to him," 
 said Mr. Rooper, with reddened face. And so 
 saying, he strode out of the house, through the 
 front yard, and out of the gate without turning his 
 head towards Asaph, still sitting under the tree. 
 
 " Oh, ho," said the latter to himself, " she s 
 
 II 
 
98 ASAPH. 
 
 bounced him short and sharp ; and it serves him 
 right, too, after playin that trick on me. Pegged 
 shoes, indeed ! " 
 
 At this moment the word " Asaph " came from 
 the house in tones shriller and sharper and higher 
 than any in which he had ever heard it pronounced 
 before. He sprang to his feet and went to the 
 house. His sister took him into the parlour and 
 shut the door. Her eyes were red and her face 
 was pale. " Asaph," said she, " Mr. Rooper has 
 told me the whole of your infamous conduct. 
 Now I know what you meant when you said that 
 you were making arrangements to get clothes. 
 You were going to sell me for them. And when 
 you found out that I was likely to marry Doctor 
 Wicker, you put up your price and wanted a 
 dictionary and a pipe." 
 
 " No, Marietta," said Asaph, " the dictionary be 
 longed to the first bargain. If you knew how I 
 need a dictionary -" 
 
 " Be still ! " she cried. " I do not want you to 
 say a word. You have acted most shamefully 
 toward me, and I want you to go away this very 
 clay. And before you go you must give back to 
 
ASAPH. 99 
 
 Mr. Roopcr everything that you got from him. I 
 will fit you out with some of Mr. Himes s clothes 
 and make no conditions at all, only that you shall 
 go away. Come up stairs with me and I will get 
 the clothes." 
 
 The room in the garret was opened and various 
 garments which had belonged to the late Mr. 
 Himes were brought out. 
 
 " This is pretty hard on me, Marietta," said 
 Asaph, as he held up a coat, " to give up new all- 
 wool goods for things that has been worn and is 
 part cotton, if I m a judge." 
 
 Marietta said very little. She gave him what 
 clothes he needed and insisted on his putting them 
 on, making a package of the things he had re 
 ceived from Mr. Rooper and returning them to 
 that gentleman. Asaph at first grumbled, but he 
 finally obeyed with a willingness which might 
 have excited the suspicions of Marietta had she 
 not been so angry. 
 
 With an enormous package wrapped in brown 
 paper in one hand and a cane, an umbrella and a 
 very small hand-bag in the other, Asaph ap 
 proached the tavern. Mr. Rooper was sitting on 
 
 II 2 
 
ioo AS A PH. 
 
 the piazza alone. He was smoking a very com 
 mon-looking clay pipe and gazing intently into 
 the air in front of him. When his old crony 
 came and stood before the piazza he did not turn 
 his head nor his eyes. 
 
 " Thomas Rooper," said Asaph, " you have got 
 me into a very bad scrape. I have been turned 
 out of doors on account of what you said about 
 me. And where I am goin I don t know, for I 
 can t walk to Drummondville. And what s more, 
 I kept my word and you didn t. I didn t hinder 
 you ; for how could I suppose that you was goin 
 to pop the question the very minute you got inside 
 the door? And that dictionary you promised I ve 
 not got." 
 
 Thomas Rooper answered not - a word, but 
 looked steadily in front of him. 
 
 " And there s another thing," said Asaph. 
 " What are you goin to allow me for that suit 
 of clothes what I ve been wearin , what I took off 
 in your room and left there ? " 
 
 At this Mr. Rooper sprang to his feet with such 
 violence that the fire danced out of the bowl of his 
 pipe. " What is the fare to Drummondville ? " 
 he cried. 
 
AS A PH. 10 1 
 
 Asaph reflected a moment. " Three dollars and 
 fifty cents, includin supper." 
 
 " I ll give you that for them clothes," said the 
 other, and counted out the money. 
 
 Asaph took it and sighed. " You ve been 
 hard on me, Thomas," said he, " but I bear you 
 no grudge. Good-bye." 
 
 As he walked slowly towards the station Mr. 
 Scantle stopped at the store. " Has that dictionary 
 come that was ordered for me ? " he said ; and 
 when told that it could not be expected for several 
 days, he did not despair, for it was possible that 
 Thomas Rooper might be so angry that he would 
 forget to countermand the order ; in that case he 
 might yet hope to obtain the coveted book. 
 
 The package containing the Rooper winter suit 
 was heavy, and Asaph walked slowly. He did not 
 want to go to Drummondville, for he hated book 
 keeping, and his year of leisure and good living 
 had spoiled him for work and poor fare. In this 
 moody state he was very glad to stop and have a 
 little chat with Mrs. Mcjimscy, who was sitting at 
 her front window. 
 
 This good lady was the principal dressmaker of 
 the village ; and by hard work and attention to 
 
102 ASAPH. 
 
 business she made a very comfortable living. She 
 was a widow, small of stature, thin of feature, very 
 neatly dressed and pleasant to look at. Asaph 
 entered the little front yard, put his package on 
 the doorstep and stood under the window to talk 
 to her. Dressed in the clothes of the late Mr. 
 Himcs, her visitor presented such a respectable 
 appearance that Mrs. Mcjimsey was not in the 
 least ashamed to have people sec him standing 
 there, which she would have been a few days ago. 
 Indeed, she felt complimented that he should want 
 to stop. The conversation soon turned upon her 
 removal from her present abode. 
 
 " I m awfully sorry to have to go," she said ; 
 " for my time is up just in the middle of my busy 
 season, and that s goin to throw me back dread 
 fully. He hasn t done right by me, that Mr. 
 Rooper, in letting things go to rack and ruin in 
 this way, and me payin his rent so regular." 
 
 " That s true," said Asaph. " Thomas Rooper is 
 a hard man a hard man, Mrs. Mcjimsey. I can 
 sec how he would be ovcrbcarin with a lone woman 
 like you : neither your son nor your daughter bcin 
 of age yet to take your part." 
 
AS A PH. 103 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Scantlc, it s very hard." 
 
 Asaph stood for a moment looking at a little 
 bed of zinnias by the side of the doorstep. " What 
 you want, Mrs. Mcjimsey," said he, "is a man in 
 the house." 
 
 In an instant Mrs. Mcjimsey flushed pink. It 
 was such a strange thing for a gentleman to say to 
 her. 
 
 Asaph saw the flush. He had not expected 
 that result from his remark, but he was quick to 
 take advantage. of it. " Mrs. Mcjimsey," said he, 
 " you are a widow, and you are imposed upon, and 
 you need somebody to take care of you. If you 
 will put that job into my hands I will do it. I am 
 a man what works with his head, and if you will 
 let me I ll work for you. To put it square, I ask 
 you to marry me. My sister s goin to be married, 
 and I m on the pint of goin away ; for I could not 
 abear to stay in her house when strangers come 
 into it. But if you say the word, I ll stay here and 
 be yours for ever and ever more." 
 
 Mrs. Mcjimsey said not a word, but her head 
 drooped and wild thoughts ran through her brain. 
 Thoughts not wild, but well-trained and broken, 
 
104 AS A PH. 
 
 ran through Asaph s brain. The idea of going to 
 Drummondville and spending for the journey 
 thither a dollar and seventy-five cents of the 
 money he had received from Mr. Roopcr now 
 became absolutely repulsive to him. 
 
 " Mrs. Mcjimscy," said he, " I will say more. 
 Not only do I ask you to marry me, but I ask you 
 to do it now. The cvenin sun is settin , the 
 evenin birds is singin , and it seems to me, Mrs. 
 Mcjimsey, that all nater pints to this softenin hour 
 as a marryin moment. You say your son won t 
 be home from his work until supper-time, and your 
 daughter has gone out for a walk. Come with me 
 to Mr. Parker s, the Methodist minister, and let us 
 join hands at the altar there. The gardener and 
 his wife is always ready to stand up as witnesses. 
 And when your son and your daughter comes 
 home to supper, they can find their mother here 
 afore em married and settled." 
 
 " But, Mr. Scantle," exclaimed Mrs. Mcjimscy, 
 " it s so suddint. What will the neighbours say ? " 
 
 " As for bcin suddint, Mrs. Mcjimscy, I ve 
 knowcd you for nearly a year ; and now, bcin on 
 the way to leave what s been my happy home, I 
 
ASAPH. 105 
 
 couldn t keep the truth from you no longer. And 
 as for the neighbours, they needn t know that \vc 
 h ain t been engaged for months." 
 
 " It s so queer, so very queer," said the little 
 dressmaker. And her face flushed again, and 
 there were tears, not at all sorrowful ones, in her 
 eyes ; and her somewhat needle-pricked right hand 
 accidentally laid itself upon the window sill in 
 easy reach of anyone outside. 
 
 The next morning Mr. Rooper, being of a 
 practical way of thinking, turned his thoughts 
 from love and resentment to the subject of his 
 income. And he soon became convinced that it 
 would be better to keep the Mcjimseys in his 
 house, if it could be done without too great an 
 outlay for repairs. So he walked over to his 
 property. When he reached the house he was 
 almost stupefied to see Asaph in a chair in the 
 front yard, dressed in the new suit of clothes 
 which he, Thomas Rooper, had paid for, and 
 smoking the Centennial pipe. 
 
 " Good morning, Mr. Rooper," said Asaph, in a 
 loud and cheery voice. " I suppose you ve come 
 to talk to Mrs. Mcjimsey about the work you ve 
 
io6 ASAP II. 
 
 got to do here to make this house fit to live in. 
 But there ain t no Mrs. Mcjimscy. She s Mrs. 
 Scantlc now, and I m your tenant. You can 
 talk to me." 
 
 Doctor Wicker came to see Mrs. Himcs in the 
 afternoon of the day he had promised to come, 
 and early in the autumn they were married. 
 Since Asaph Scantlc had married and settled he 
 had not seen his sister nor spoken to her ; but 
 he determined that on so joyful an occasion as 
 this he would show no resentment. So he at 
 tended the wedding in the village church, dressed 
 in the suit of clothes which had belonged to the 
 late Mr. I limes. 
 
MY TERMINAL MORAINE. 
 
 MAN S birth is generally considered the 
 most important event of his existence, but 
 I truly think that what I am about to relate was 
 more important to me than my entrance into this 
 world ; because, had not these things happened, 
 I am of the opinion that my life would have been 
 of no value to me and my birth a misfortune. 
 
 My father, Joshua Cuthbert, died soon after I 
 came to my majority, leaving me what he had 
 considered a comfortable property. This consisted 
 of a large house and some forty acres of land, 
 nearly the whole of which lay upon a bluff, which 
 upon three sides descended to a little valley, 
 through which ran a gentle stream. I had no 
 brothers or sisters. My mother died when I was a 
 boy, and I, Walter Cuthbert, was left the sole 
 representative of my immediate family. 
 
io8 MY TERMINAL MORAINE. 
 
 My estate had been a comfortable one to my 
 father, because his income from the practice of his 
 profession as a physician enabled him to keep it 
 up and provide satisfactorily for himself and me. 
 I had no profession, and but a very small income, 
 the result of a few investments my father had 
 made. Left to myself, I felt no inducement to take 
 up any profession or business. My wants were 
 simple, and for a few years I lived without ex 
 periencing any inconvenience from the economies 
 which I was obliged to practice. My books, my 
 dog, my gun, and my rod made life very pleasant 
 to me, and the subject of an increase of income 
 never disturbed my mind. 
 
 But as time passed on the paternal home began 
 to present an air of neglect and even dilapidation, 
 which occasionally attracted my attention and 
 caused, as I incidentally discovered, a great deal 
 of unfavourable comment among my neighbours, 
 who thought that I should go to work and at least 
 earn money enough to put the house and grounds 
 in a condition which should not be unworthy the 
 memory of the good Dr. Cuthbcrt. In fact, I 
 began to be looked upon as a shiftless young man- 
 
MY TERMINAL MORAINE. 109 
 
 and, now and then, I found a person old enough 
 and bold enough to tell me so. 
 
 But, instead of endeavouring to find some occu 
 pation by which I might better my condition and 
 improve my estate, I fell in love, which, in the 
 opinion of my neighbours, was the very worst thing 
 that could have happened to me at this time. I 
 lived in a thrifty region, and for a man who could 
 not support himself to think of taking upon him 
 the support of a wife, especially such a wife as 
 Agnes Havelot would be, was considered more 
 than folly and looked upon as a crime. Everybody 
 knew that I was in love with Miss Havelot, for I 
 went to court her as boldly as I went to fish or 
 shoot. There was a good deal of talk about it, 
 and this finally came to the ears of Mr. Havelot, 
 my lady s father, who, thereupon, promptly ordered 
 her to have no more to do with me. 
 
 The Havelot estate, which adjoined mine, was a 
 very large one, containing hundreds and hundreds 
 of acres ; and the Havelots were rich, rich enough 
 to frighten any poor young man of marrying intent. 
 But I did not appreciate the fact that I was a poor 
 young man. I had never troubled my head about 
 
no MY TERMINAL MORAINE. 
 
 money as it regarded myself, and I now did not 
 trouble my head about it as regarded Agnes. I 
 loved her, I hoped she loved me, and all other 
 considerations were thrown aside. Mr. Havelot, 
 however, was a man of a different way of thinking. 
 It was a little time before I became convinced 
 that the decision of Agnes s father, that there 
 should be no communication between that dear 
 girl and myself, really meant anything. I had 
 never been subjected to restrictions, and I did not 
 understand how people of spirit could submit to 
 them ; but I was made to understand it when Mr. 
 Havelot, finding me wandering about his grounds, 
 very forcibly assured me that if I should make my 
 appearance there again, or if he discovered any 
 attempt on my part to communicate with his 
 daughter in any way, he would send her from home. 
 He concluded the very brief interview by stating 
 that if I had any real regard for his daughter s 
 happiness I would cease attentions which would 
 meet with the most decided disapprobation from 
 her only surviving parent and which would result 
 in exiling her from home. I begged for one more 
 interview with Miss Havelot, and if it had been 
 
MY TERMINAL MORAINE. in 
 
 granted I should have assured her of the state of my 
 affections, no matter if there were reasons to sup 
 pose that I would never see her again ; but her father 
 very sternly forbade anything of the kind, and I 
 went away crushed. 
 
 It was a very hard case, for if I played the part 
 of a bold lover, and tried to see Agnes without 
 regard to the wicked orders of her father, I should 
 certainly be discovered ; and then it would be not 
 only myself, but the poor girl, who would suffer. 
 So I determined that I would submit to the Have- 
 lot decree. No matter if I never saw her again 
 never heard the sound of her voice, it would be 
 better to have her near me, to have her breathe the 
 same air, cast up her eyes at the same sky, listen 
 to the same birds, that I breathed, looked at, and 
 listened to, than to have her far away, probably in 
 Kentucky, where I knew she had relatives, and 
 where the grass was blue and the sky probably 
 green, or at any rate would appear so to her if in 
 the least degree she felt as I did in regard to the 
 ties of home and the affinities between the sexes. 
 
 I now found myself in a most doleful and 
 even desperate condition of mind. There was 
 
H2 MY TERMINAL MORAINE. 
 
 nothing in the world which I could have for 
 which I cared. Hunting, fishing, and the rambles 
 through woods and fields that had once been so 
 delightful to me now became tasks which I seldom 
 undertook. The only occupation in which I felt 
 the slightest interest was that of sitting in a tower 
 of my house with a telescope, endeavouring to see 
 my Agnes on some portion of her father s grounds ; 
 but, although I diligently directed my glass at the 
 slightest stretch of lawn or bit of path which I 
 could discern through openings in the foliage, I 
 never caught sight of her. I knew, however, by 
 means of daily questions addressed to my cook, 
 whose daughter was a servant in the Havelot 
 house, that Agnes was yet at home. For that 
 reason I remained at home. Otherwise, 1 should 
 have become a wanderer. 
 
 About a month after I had fallen into this most 
 unhappy state, an old friend came to see me. We 
 had been school-fellows, but he differed from me 
 in almost every respect. He was full of ambition 
 and energy, and, although he was but a few years 
 older than myself, he had already made a name 
 in the world. He was a geologist, earnest and 
 
MY TERMINAL MORAINE. 113 
 
 enthusiastic in his studies and his investigations. 
 He told me frankly that the object of his visit was 
 two-fold. In the first place, he wanted to see me, 
 and, secondly, he wanted to make some geological 
 examinations on my grounds, which were situated, 
 as he informed me, upon a terminal moraine, a 
 formation which he had not yet had an oppor 
 tunity of practically investigating. 
 
 I had not known that I lived on a moraine, and 
 now that I knew it, I did not care. But Tom 
 Burton glowed with high spirits and lively zeal as 
 he told me how the great bluff on which my house 
 stood, together with the other hills and wooded 
 terraces which stretched away from it along the 
 side of the valley, had been formed by the minute 
 fragments of rock and soil, which, during ages and 
 ages, had been gradually pushed down from the 
 mountains by a great glacier which once occupied 
 the country to the north-east of my house. "Why, 
 Walter, my boy," he cried, " if I had not read it 
 all in the books I should have known for myself, 
 as soon as I came here, that there had once been 
 a glacier up there, and as it gradually moved to 
 the south-west, it had made this country what it is. 
 
ii4 MY TERMINAL MORAINE. 
 
 Have you a stream down there in that dell which 
 I see lies at right-angles with the valley and opens 
 into it? " 
 
 " No," said I ; " I wish there were one. The 
 only stream we have flows along the valley, and 
 not on my property." 
 
 Without waiting for me, Tom ran down into my 
 dell, pushed his way through the underbrush to its 
 upper end, and before long came back flushed with 
 heat and enthusiasm. 
 
 " Well, sir," he said, " that dell was once the bed 
 of a glacial stream, and you may as well clear it 
 out and plant corn there if you want to, for there 
 never will be another stream flowing through it 
 until there is another glacier out in the country 
 beyond. And now I want you to let me dig 
 about here. I want to find out what sort of stuff 
 the glacier brought down from the mountains. I 
 will hire a man and will promise you to fill up all 
 the holes I make." 
 
 I had no objection to my friend s digging as 
 much as he pleased, and for three days he busied 
 himself in getting samples of the soil of my estate. 
 Sometimes I went out and looked at him, and 
 
MY TERMINAL MORAINE. 115 
 
 gradually a little of his earnest ardour infused 
 itself into me, and with some show of interest I 
 looked into the holes he had made and glanced 
 over the mineral specimens he showed me. 
 
 " Well, Walter," said he, when he took leave of 
 me, " I am very sorry that I did not discover that 
 the glacier had raked out the bed of a gold-mine 
 from the mountains up there and brought it down 
 to you, or, at any rate, some valuable iron-ore. 
 But I am obliged to say it did not do anything of 
 the sort. But I can tell you one thing it brought 
 you, and, although it is npt of any great com 
 mercial value, I should think you could make 
 good use of it here on your place. You have one 
 of the finest deposits of gravel on this bluff that 
 I have met with, and if you were to take out a lot 
 of it and spread it over your driveways and paths, 
 it would make it a great deal pleasanter for you to 
 go about here in bad weather, and would wonder 
 fully improve your property. Good roads always 
 give an idea of thrift and prosperity." And then 
 he went away with a valise nearly full of mineral 
 specimens which he assured me were very inter- 
 
 I 2 
 
ii6 MY TERMINAL MORAINE. 
 
 My interest in geological formations died away 
 as soon as Tom Burton had departed, but what he 
 said about making gravel roads, giving the place 
 an air of thrift and prosperity, had its effect upon 
 my mind. It struck me that it would be a very 
 good thing if people in the neighbourhood, espe 
 cially the Havelots, were to perceive on my place 
 some evidences of thrift and prosperity. Most 
 palpable evidences of unthrift and impecuniosity 
 had cut me off from Agnes, and why might it not 
 be that some signs of improved circumstances 
 would remove, to a degree at least, the restrictions 
 which had been placed between us ? This was 
 but a very little thing upon which to build hopes ; 
 but ever since men and women have loved, they 
 have built grand hopes upon very slight founda 
 tions. I determined to put my roadways in 
 order. 
 
 My efforts in this direction were really evidence 
 of anything but thriftiness, for I could not in the 
 least afford to make my drives and walks resemble 
 the smooth and beautiful roads which wound over 
 the Havelot estate, although to do this was my 
 intention, and I set about the work without loss of 
 
MY TERMINAL MORAINE. 117 
 
 time. I took up this occupation with so much 
 earnestness that it seriously interfered with my 
 observations from the tower. 
 
 I hired two men and set them to work to dig a 
 gravel-pit. They made excavations at several 
 places, and very soon found what they declared to 
 be a very fine quality of road-gravel. I ordered 
 them to dig on until they had taken out what they 
 believed to be enough to cover all my roads. 
 When this had been done, I would have it pro 
 perly spread and rolled. As this promised to be 
 a very good job, the men went to work in fine 
 spirits, and evidently made up their minds that 
 the improvements I desired would require a vast 
 deal of gravel. 
 
 When they had dug a hole so deep that it 
 became difficult to throw up the gravel from the 
 bottom, I suggested that they should dig at some 
 other place. But to this they objected, declaring 
 that the gravel was getting better and better, and 
 it would be well to go on down as long as the 
 quality continued to be so good. So, at last, they 
 put a ladder into the pit, one man carrying the 
 gravel up in a hod, while the other dug it ; and 
 
nS MY TERMINAL MORAINE. 
 
 when they had gone down so deep that this was 
 no longer practicable, they rigged up a derrick and 
 windlass and drew up the gravel in a bucket. 
 
 Had I been of a more practical turn of mind 
 I might have perceived that this method of work 
 ing made the job a very long and, consequently, 
 to the labourers, a profitable one ; but no such 
 idea entered into my head, and not noticing 
 whether they were bringing up sand or gravel 
 I allowed them to proceed. 
 
 One morning I went out to the spot where 
 the excavation was being made, and found 
 that the men had built a fire on the ground near 
 the opening of the pit, and that one of them was 
 bending over it warming himself. As the month 
 was July this naturally surprised me, and I inquired 
 the reason for so strange a performance. 
 
 " Upon my soul," said the man, who was rub 
 bing his hands over the blaze, " I do not wonder 
 you arc surprised ; but it is so cold down at the 
 bottom of that pit that me fingers is almost 
 frosted ; and we haven t struck any wathcr neither, 
 which couldn t be expected, of course, a-diggin 
 down into the hill like this." 
 
J/K TERMTXAL MORAINE. 119 
 
 I looked into the hole and found it was very 
 deep. " I think it would be better to stop dig 
 ging here," said I, " and try some other place." 
 
 " I wouldn t do that just now," said the other 
 man, who was preparing to go down in the 
 bucket; "to be sure, it s a good deal more like 
 a well than a gravel -pit, but it s bigger at the 
 top than at the bottom, and there s no danger 
 of it s cavin in, and now that we ve got every 
 thing rigged up all right, it would be a pity to 
 make a change yet awhile." 
 
 So I let them go on ; but the next day, when 
 I went out again, I found that they had come 
 to the conclusion that it was time to give up 
 digging in that hole. They both declared that 
 it almost froze their feet to stand on the ground 
 where they worked at the bottom of the excava 
 tion. The slow business of drawing up the gravel 
 by means of a bucket and windlass was, therefore, 
 reluctantly given up. The men now went to work 
 to dig outward from this pit toward the edge of 
 the bluff which overlooked my little dell, and 
 gradually made a wide trench, which they 
 deepened until ?nd I am afraid to say how 
 
120 MY TERMINAL MORAINE. 
 
 long they worked before this was done they 
 could walk to the original pit from the level of 
 the dell. They then deepened the inner end 
 of the trench, wheeling out the gravel in barrows, 
 until they had made an inclined pathway from the 
 clcll to the bottom of the pit. The wheeling now 
 became difficult, and the men soon declared that 
 they were sure that they had quite gravel enough. 
 
 When they made this announcement, and I 
 had gone into some financial calculations, I found 
 that I would be obliged to put an end to my 
 operations, at least for the present, for my avail 
 able funds were gone, or would be when I had 
 paid what I owed for the work. The men were 
 very much disappointed by the sudden ending 
 of this good job, but they departed, and I was 
 left to gaze upon a vast amount of gravel of 
 which, for the present at least, I could not afford 
 to make the slightest use. 
 
 The mental despondency which had been some, 
 what lightened during my excavating operations 
 now returned, and I became rather more gloomy 
 and downcast than before. My cook declared 
 that it was of no use to prepare meals which I 
 
MY TERMINAL .MORAINE. 121 
 
 never ate, and suggested that it would save money 
 if I discharged her. As I had not paid her any 
 thing for a long time, I did not see how this 
 would benefit me. 
 
 Wandering about one day with my hat pulled 
 down over my eyes, and my hands thrust deep 
 into my pockets, I strolled into the dell and stood 
 before the wide trench which led to the pit in 
 which I had foolishly sunk the money which 
 should have supported me for months. I entered 
 this dismal passage and walked slowly and care 
 fully down the incline until I reached the bottom 
 of the original pit, where I had never been 
 before. I stood here looking up and around 
 me, and wondering how men could bring them 
 selves to dig down into such dreary depths simply 
 for the sake of a few dollars a week, when I in 
 voluntarily began to stamp my feet. They were 
 very cold, although I had not been there more 
 than a minute. I wondered at this and took up 
 some of the loose gravel in my hand. It was quit e 
 dry, but it chilled my fingers. I did not understand 
 it, and did not try to, but walked up the trench 
 and around into the dell thinking of Agnes. 
 
122 MY TERMINAL MORAINE. 
 
 I was very fond of milk, which, indeed, was 
 almost the only food I now cared for, and I was 
 consequently much disappointed at my noonday 
 meal when I found that the milk had soured and 
 was not fit to drink. 
 
 " You see, sir," said Susan, " ice is very scarce 
 and dear, and we cannot afford to buy much of 
 it. There was no freczin weather last winter, and 
 the price has gone up as high as the thermometer, 
 sir ; and so, between the two of cm, I can t keep 
 things from spoilin ." 
 
 The idea now came to me that if Susan would 
 take the milk, and anything else she wished to 
 keep cool in this hot weather, to the bottom of 
 the gravel-pit, she would find the temperature 
 there cold enough to preserve them without ice, 
 and I told her so. 
 
 The next morning Susan came to me with a 
 pleased countenance and said, " I put the butter 
 and the milk in that pit last night, and the 
 butter s just as hard and the milk s as hard as 
 if it had been kept in an ice-house. But the 
 place is as cold as an ice-house, sir, and unless 
 I am mistaken, there s ice in it. Anyway, what do 
 you call that ? " And she took from a little basket 
 
MY TERMINAL MORAINE. 123 
 
 a piece of greyish ice as large as my fist. " When 
 I found it was so cold down there, sir/ she said, 
 " I thought I would dig a little myself and see 
 what made it so ; and I took a fire-shovel and 
 hachet, and, when I had scraped away some of 
 the gravel, I came to something hard and chopped 
 off this piece of it, which is real ice sir, or I know 
 nothing about it. Perhaps there used to be an 
 ice-house there, and you might get some of it if 
 you dug, though why anyone should put it down 
 so deep and then cover it up, I m sure I don t 
 know. But as long as there s any there, I think 
 we should get it out, even if there s only a little 
 of it ; for I cannot take everything down to that 
 pit, and we might as well have it in the re 
 frigerator." 
 
 This seemed to me like very good sense, and 
 if I had had a man I should have ordered him 
 to go down to the pit and dig up any lumps of 
 ice he might find and bring them to the house. 
 But I had no man, and I therefore became im 
 pressed with the opinion that if I did not want to 
 drink sour milk for the rest of the summer, it 
 might be a good thing for me to go down there 
 and dig out some of the ice myself. So with 
 
124 MY TERMINAL MORAINE. 
 
 pick-axe and shovel I went to the bottom of the 
 pit and set myself to work. 
 
 A few inches below the surface I found that my 
 shovel struck something hard, and, clearing away 
 the gravel from this for two or three square feet, I 
 looked down upon a solid mass of ice. It was 
 dirty and begrimed, but it was truly ice. With my 
 pick I detached some large pieces of it. These, with 
 some discomfort, I carried out into the dell where 
 Susan might come with her basket and get them. 
 
 For several days Susan and I took out ice from 
 pit, and then I thought that perhaps Tom Burton 
 might feel some interest in this frozen deposit in 
 my terminal moraine, and so I wrote to him about 
 it. He did not answer my letter, but instead 
 arrived himself the next afternoon. 
 
 " Ice at the bottom of a gravel-pit," said he, " is 
 a thing I never heard of. Will you lend me a spade 
 and a pick-axe ? " 
 
 When Tom came out of that pit it was too cold a 
 place for me to go with him and watch his proceed 
 ings I saw him come running towards the house. 
 
 " Walter," he shouted, " we must hire all the men 
 we can find and dig, dig, dig. If I am not mis- 
 
MY TERMINAL MORAINE. 125 
 
 taken, something has happened on your place 
 that is wonderful almost beyond belief. But we 
 must not stop to talk. We must dig, dig, dig ; 
 dig all day and dig all night. Don t think 
 of the cost. I ll attend to that. I ll get the money. 
 What we must do is to find men and set them to 
 work." 
 
 "What s the matter?" said I. "What has 
 happened ? " 
 
 " I haven t time to talk about it now ! besides, I 
 don t want to, for fear that I should find that I am 
 mistaken. But get on your hat, my dear fellow, 
 and let s go over to the town for men." 
 
 The next day there w r ere eight men working 
 under the direction of my friend Burton, and 
 although they did not work at night as he wished 
 them to do, they laboured steadfastly for ten days 
 or more before Tom was ready to announce what 
 it was he had hoped to discover, and whether or 
 not he had found it. For a day or two I watched 
 the workmen from time to time, but after that I 
 kept away, preferring to await the result of my 
 friend s operations. He evidently expected to find 
 something worth having, and whether he was 
 
126 MY TERMINAL MORAINE. 
 
 successful or not, it suited me better to know the 
 truth all at once and not by degrees. 
 
 On the morning of the eleventh day Tom came 
 into the room where I was reading and sat down 
 near me. His face was pale, his eyes glittering. 
 " Old friend," said he, and as he spoke I noticed 
 that his voice was a little husky, although it was 
 plain enough that his emotion was not occasioned 
 by bad fortune" my good old friend, I have found 
 out what made the bottom of your gravel-pit so 
 uncomfortably cold. You need not doubt what I 
 am going to tell you, for my excavations have been 
 complete and thorough enough to make me sure 
 of what I say. Don t you remember that I told 
 you that ages ago there was a vast glacier in the 
 country which stretches from here to the mountains? 
 Well, sir, the foot of that glacier must have reached 
 further this way than is generally supposed. At 
 any rate a portion of it did extend in this direction 
 as far as this bit of the world which is now yours. 
 This end, or spur of the glacier, nearly a quarter of 
 a mile in width, I should say, and pushing before it 
 a portion of the terminal moraine on which you 
 live, came slowly toward the valley, until suddenly 
 
MY TERMINAL MORAINE. 127 
 
 it detached itself from the main glacier and disap 
 peared from sight. That is to say, my boy " and 
 as he spoke Tom sprang to his feet, too excited to 
 sit any longer " it descended to the bowels of the 
 earth, at least for a considerable distance in that 
 direction. Now you want to know how this hap 
 pened. Well, I ll tell you. In this part of the 
 country there are scattered about here and there 
 great caves. Geologists know one or two of them, 
 and it is certain that there are others undiscovered. 
 Well, sir, your glacier spur discovered one of them, 
 and when it had lain over the top of it for an age 
 or two, and had grown bigger and bigger, and 
 heavier and heavier, it at last burst through the 
 rock roof of the cave, snapping itself from the rest 
 of the glacier and falling in one vast mass to the 
 bottom of the subterranean abyss. Walter, it is 
 there now. The rest of the glacier came steadily 
 down ; the moraines were forced before it ; they 
 covered up this glacier spur, this broken fragment, 
 and by the time the climate changed and the 
 average of temperature rose above that of the 
 glacial period, this vast sunken mass of ice was 
 packed away below the surface of the earth, out of 
 
128 MY TERMINAL MORAINE. 
 
 the reach of the action of friction, or heat, or 
 moisture, or anything else which might destroy it. 
 And through all the long procession of centuries 
 that broken end of the glacier has been lying in 
 your terminal moraine. It is there now. It is 
 yours, Walter Cuthbert. It is an ice mine. It is 
 wealth, and so far as I can make out, it is nearly 
 all upon your land. To you is the possession, but 
 to me is the glory of the discovery. A bit of the 
 glacial period kept in a cave for us ! It is too 
 wonderful to believe ! Walter, have you any 
 brandy ? " 
 
 It may well be supposed that by this time I was 
 thoroughly awakened to the importance and the 
 amazing character of my friend s discovery, and I 
 hurried with him to the scene of operations. There 
 he explained everything and showed me how, by 
 digging away a portion of the face of the bluff, he 
 had found that this vast fragment of the glacier, 
 which had been so miraculously preserved, ended 
 in an irregularly perpendicular wall, which extended 
 downward he knew not how far, and the edge of it 
 on its upper side had been touched by my work 
 men in digging their pit. " It was the gradual 
 
MY TERMINAL MORAINE. 129 
 
 melting of the upper end of this glacier," said 
 Tom, " probably more elevated than the lower end, 
 that made your clell. I wondered why the depres 
 sion did not extend further up toward the spot 
 where the foot of the glacier was supposed to have 
 been. This end of the fragment, being sunk in 
 deeper and afterward covered up more completely, 
 probably never melted at all." 
 
 " It is amazing astounding," said I ; " but what 
 of it, now that we have found it ? " 
 
 " What of it ? " cried Tom, and his whole form 
 trembled as he spoke. " You have here a source 
 of wealth, of opulence which shall endure for the 
 rest of your days. Here, at your very door, where 
 it can be taken out and transported with the least 
 possible trouble, is ice enough to supply the town, 
 the county, yes, I might say, the State, for hundreds 
 of years. No, sir, I cannot go into supper. I can 
 not eat. I leave to you the business and practical 
 part of this affair. I go to report upon its scien 
 tific features." 
 
 " Agnes," I exclaimed, as I walked to the house 
 with my hands clasped and my eyes raised to the 
 sky, " the glacial period has given thco to me ! " 
 
130 MY TERMINAL MORAINE. 
 
 This did not immediately follow, although I 
 went that very night to Mr. Havelot and declared 
 to him that I was now rich enough to marry his 
 daughter. He laughed at me in a manner which 
 was very annoying, and made certain remarks which 
 indicated that he thought it probable that it was 
 not the roof of the cave, but my mind, which had 
 given way under the influence of undue pressure. 
 
 The contemptuous manner in which I had been 
 received aroused within me a very unusual state of 
 mind. While talking to Mr. Havelot I heard not 
 far away in some part of the house a voice singing. 
 It was the voice of Agnes, and I believed she sang 
 so that I could hear her. But as her sweet tones 
 reached my ear there came to me at the same time 
 the harsh, contemptuous words of her father. I 
 left the house determined to crush that man to the 
 earth beneath a superincumbent mass of ice or 
 the evidence of the results of the ownership of such 
 a mass which would make him groan and weep 
 as he apologised to me for his scornful and dis 
 respectful utterances and at the same time offered 
 me the hand of his daughter. 
 
 When the discovery of the ice-mine, as it grew 
 
MY TERMINAL MORAINE. 131 
 
 to be called, became generally known, my grounds 
 were crowded by sightseers, and reporters of news 
 papers were more plentiful than squirrels. But the 
 latter were referred to Burton, who would gladly 
 talk to them as long as they could afford to listen, 
 and I felt myself at last compelled to shut my gates 
 to the first. 
 
 I had offers of capital to develop this novel source 
 of wealth, and I accepted enough of this assistance 
 to enable me to begin operations on a moderate 
 scale. It was considered wise not to uncover any 
 portion of the glacier spur, but to construct an in 
 clined shaft down to its wall-like end, and from 
 this tunnel into the great mass. Immediately the 
 leading ice company of the neighbouring town 
 contracted with me for all the ice I could furnish, 
 and the flood-gates of affluence began slowly to 
 rise. 
 
 The earliest, and certainly one of the greatest, 
 benefits which came to me from this bequest from 
 the unhistoric past was the new energy and vigour 
 with which my mind and body were now infused. 
 My old, careless method of life and my recent 
 
 melancholy, despairing mood were gone, and I now 
 
 K 2 
 
132 MY TERMINAL MORAINE. 
 
 began to employ myself upon the main object of 
 my life with an energy and enthusiasm almost 
 equal to that of my friend Tom Burton. This 
 present object of my life was to prepare my home 
 for Agnes. 
 
 The great piles of gravel which my men had dug 
 from the well-like pit were spread upon the road 
 ways and rolled smooth and hard ; my lawn was 
 mowed ; my flower-beds and borders put in order ; 
 useless bushes and undergrowth cut out and cleared 
 away ; my out-buildings were repaired, and grounds 
 around my house rapidly assumed their old ap 
 pearance of neatness and beauty. 
 
 Ice was very scarce that summer, and, as the 
 waggons wound away from the opening of the 
 shaft which led down to the glacier, carrying their 
 loads to the nearest railway station, so money came 
 to me ; not in large sums at first, for preparations 
 had not yet been perfected for taking out the ice in 
 great quantities, but enough to enable me to go on 
 with my work as rapidly as I could plan it. I set 
 about renovating and brightening and newly fur 
 nishing my house. Whatever I thought that Agnes 
 would like I bought and put into it. I tried to put 
 
MY TERMINAL MORAINE. 133 
 
 myself in her place as I selected the paper-hangings 
 and the materials with which to cover the furniture. 
 
 Sometimes, while thus employed selecting orna 
 ments or useful articles for my house, and using as 
 far as was possible the taste and judgment of 
 another instead of my own, the idea came to me 
 that perhaps Agnes had never heard of my miracu 
 lous good fortune. Certainly her father would not 
 be likely to inform her, and perhaps she still thought 
 of me, if she thought at all, as the poor young man 
 from whom she had been obliged to part because 
 he was poor. 
 
 But whether she knew that I was growing rich, 
 or whether she thought I was becoming poorer and 
 poorer, I thought only of the day when I could go 
 to her father and tell him that I was able to take 
 his daughter and place her in a home as beautiful 
 as that in which she now lived, and maintain her 
 with all the comforts and luxuries which he could 
 give her. 
 
 One day I asked my faithful cook, who also 
 acted as my housekeeper and general supervisor, 
 to assist me in making out a list of china which I 
 intended to purchase. 
 
134 MY TERMINAL MORAINE. 
 
 " Are you thinking of buying china, sir?" she 
 asked. " We have now quite as much as \vc really 
 need." 
 
 " Oh, yes," said I, " I shall get complete sets of 
 everything than can be required for a properly fur 
 nished household." 
 
 Susan gave a little sigh. " You arc spcndin a 
 lot of money, sir, and some of it for things that 
 a single gentleman would not be likely to care very 
 much about ; and if you was to take it into your 
 head to travel and stay away for a year or two, 
 there s a good many things you ve bought that 
 would look shabby when you come back, no matter 
 how careful I might be in dustin cm and keepin 
 em covered." 
 
 " But I have no idea of travelling," said I. 
 " There s no place so pleasant as this to me." 
 
 Susan was silent for a few moments, and then she 
 said : " I know very well why you arc doing this, and 
 I feel it my bounden duty to say to you that there s 
 a chance of it s being no use. I do not speak 
 without good reason, and I would not do it if I 
 didn t think that it might make trouble lighter to 
 you when it comes." 
 
J/T TERMIXAT. MORAIXE. 135 
 
 " What arc you talking about, Susan ? What do 
 you mean ? " 
 
 " Well, sir, this is what I mean : It was only last 
 night that my daughter Jane was in Mr. Havelot s 
 
 IT> J O J 
 
 dining-room after dinner was over, and Mr. Have- 
 lot and a friend of his were sitting there, smoking 
 their cigars and drinking their coffee. She went 
 in and came out again as she was busy takin away 
 the dishes, and they paid no attention to her, but 
 went on talkin without knowin , most likely, she 
 was there. Mr. Havelot and the gentleman were 
 talking about you, and Jane she heard Mr. Havelot 
 say as plain as anything, and she said she couldn t 
 be mistaken, that even if your nonsensical ice-mine 
 proved to be worth anything, he would never let 
 his daughter marry an iceman. He spoke most 
 disrespectfully of icemen, sir, and said that it would 
 make him sick to have a son-in-law whose business 
 it was to sell ice to butchers, and hotels, and grog 
 shops, and pork-packers, and all that sort of people ; 
 and that he would as soon have his daughter marry 
 the man who supplied a hotel with sausages as the 
 one who supplied it with ice to keep those sausages 
 from spoiling. You sec, sir, Mr. Havelot lives on 
 
136 MY TERMINAL MORAINE. 
 
 his property as his father did before him, and he is 
 a very proud man, with a heart as hard and cold as 
 that ice down under your land ; and it s borne in 
 on me very strong, sir, that it would be a bad thing 
 for you to keep on thinkin that you are getting 
 this house all ready to bring Miss Havelot to when 
 you have married her. For if Mr. Havelot keeps 
 on livin , which there s every chance of his doin , it 
 may be many a weary year before you get Miss 
 Agnes, if ever you get her. And havin said that, 
 sir, I say no more, and I would not have said this 
 much if I hadn t felt it my boundcn duty to your 
 father s son to warn him that most likely he was 
 workin for what he might never get, and so keep 
 him from breakin his heart when he found out the 
 truth all of a sudden." 
 
 With that Susan left me, without offering any 
 assistance in making out a list of china. This was 
 a terrible story ; but, after all, it was founded only 
 upon servants gossip. In this country even proud, 
 rich men like Mr. Havelot did not have such absurd 
 ideas regarding the source of wealth. Money is 
 money, and whether it be derived from the ordi 
 nary products of the earth, from which came much 
 
MY TERMINAL MORAINE. 157 
 
 of Mr. Havclot s revenue, or from an extraordinary 
 project such as my glacier spur, it truly could not 
 matter so far as concerned the standing in society 
 of its possessor. What utter absurdity was this 
 which Susan had told me ! If I were to q;o to Mr. 
 
 o 
 
 Havelot and tell him that I would not marry his 
 daughter because he supplied brewers and bakers 
 with the products of his fields, would he not con 
 sider me an idiot ? I determined to pay no atten 
 tion to the idle tale. But, alas ! determinations of 
 that sort are often of little avail. I did pay atten 
 tion to it, and my spirits drooped. 
 
 The tunnel into the glacier spur had now attained 
 considerable length, and the ice in the interior 
 was found to be of much finer quality than 
 that first met with, which was of a greyish 
 hue and somewhat inclined to crumble. When 
 the workmen reached a grade of ice as good 
 as they could expect, they began to enlarge the 
 tunnel into a chamber, and from this they proposed 
 to extend tunnels in various directions after the 
 fashion of a coal-mine. The ice was hauled out on 
 sledges through the tunnel and then carried up a 
 wooden railway to the mouth of the shaft. 
 
138 MY TERMINAL MORAINE, 
 
 It was comparatively easy to walk down 
 the shaft and enter the tunnel, and \vhcn it hap 
 pened that the men were not at work I allowed 
 visitors to go down and view this wonderful ice- 
 cavern. The walls of the chamber appeared 
 semi-transparent, and the light of candles or lan 
 terns gave the whole scene a weird and beautiful 
 aspect. It was almost possible to imagine oneself 
 surrounded by limpid waters, which might at any 
 moment rush upon him and engulf him. 
 
 Every day or two Tom Burton came with a party 
 of scientific visitors, and had I chosen to stop the 
 work of taking out ice, admitted the public and 
 charged a price for admission, I might have made 
 almost as much money as I at that time derived 
 from the sale of the ice. But such a method of 
 profit was repugnant to me. 
 
 For several days after Susan s communication 
 to me I worked on in my various operations, en 
 deavouring to banish from my mind the idle non 
 sense she had spoken of; but one of its effects 
 upon me was to make me feel that I ought not to 
 allow hopes so important to rest upon uncertainties. 
 So I determined that as soon as my house and 
 
MY TERMINAL MORAINE. 139 
 
 grounds should be in a condition with which I 
 should for the time be satisfied, I would go boldly 
 to Mr. Havelot, and, casting out of my recollection 
 everything 1 that Susa.n had said, invite him to visit 
 me and sec for himself the results of the discovery 
 of which he had spoken with such derisive con 
 tempt. This would be a straightforward and 
 business-like answer to his foolish objections to me, 
 and I believed that in his heart the old gentleman 
 would properly appreciate my action. 
 
 About this time there came to my place Aaron 
 Boycc, an elderly farmer of the neighbourhood, 
 and, finding me outside, he seized the opportunity 
 to have a chat with me. 
 
 "I tell you what it is, Mr. Cuthbert," said he, 
 " the people in this neighbourhood hasn t give you 
 credit for what s in you. The way you have fixed 
 up this place, and the short time you have took to 
 do it, is enough to show us now what sort of a man 
 you are ; and I tell you, sir, we re proud of you 
 for a neighbour. I don t believe there s another 
 gentleman in this county of your age that could 
 have done what you have done in so short a time. 
 I expect now you will be thinking of getting 
 
140 MY TERMINAL MORAINE. 
 
 married and startin housckccpin in a regular 
 fashion. That comes just as natural as to set 
 hens in the spring. By the way, have you heard 
 that old Mr. Havclot s thinkin of goin abroad ? 
 I didn t believe he would ever do that again, 
 because he s gcttin pretty well on in years, but old 
 men will do queer things as well as young ones." 
 
 " Going abroad ! " I cried. " Does he intend to 
 take his daughter with him ? " 
 
 Mr. Aaron Boyce smiled grimly. He was a 
 great old gossip, and he had already obtained the 
 information he wanted. " Yes," he said, " I ve heard 
 it was on her account he s going. She s been kind 
 of weakly lately, they tell me, and hasn t took to 
 her food, and the doctors has said that what she 
 wants is a sea-voyage and a change to foreign 
 parts." 
 
 Going abroad ! Foreign parts ! This was more 
 terrible than anything I had imagined. I would 
 go to Mr. Havelot that very evening, the only 
 time which I would be certain to find him at 
 home, and talk to him in a way which would be 
 sure to bring him to his senses, if he had any. 
 And if I should find that he had no sense of 
 
MY TERMINAL MORAINE. 141 
 
 propriety or justice, no sense of his duty to his 
 fellow-man and to his offspring, then I would 
 begin a bold fight for Agnes, a fight which I would 
 not give up until, with her own lips, she told me 
 that it would be useless. I would follow her to 
 Kentucky, to Europe, to the uttermost ends of the 
 earth. I could do it now. The frozen deposits in 
 my terminal moraine would furnish me with the 
 means. I walked away and left the old farmer 
 standing grinning. No doubt my improvements 
 and renovations had been the subject of gossip in 
 the neighbourhood, and he had come over to see 
 if he could find out anything definite in regard to 
 the object of them. He had succeeded, but he 
 had done more ; he had nerved me to instantly 
 begin the conquest of Agnes, whether by diplo 
 macy or war. 
 
 I was so anxious to begin this conquest that I 
 could scarcely wait for the evening to come. At 
 the noon-hour, when the ice-works were deserted, 
 I walked down the shaft and into the ice-chamber 
 to see what had been done since my last visit. I 
 decided to insist that operations upon a larger 
 scale should be immediately begun, in order that I 
 
142 MY TERMINAL MORAINE. 
 
 might have plenty of money with which to carry 
 on my contemplated campaign. Whether it was 
 one of peace or war, I should want all the money 
 I could get. 
 
 I took with me a lantern and went round the 
 chamber, which was now twenty-five or thirty feet 
 in diameter, examining the new inroads which had 
 been made upon its walls. There was a tunnel 
 commenced opposite the one by which the cham 
 ber was entered, but it had not been opened more 
 than a dozen feet, and it seemed to me that the 
 men had not been working with any very great 
 energy. I wanted to see a continuous stream of 
 ice-blocks from that chamber to the mouth of the 
 shaft. 
 
 While grumbling thus I heard behind me a 
 sudden noise like thunder and the crashing of 
 walls, and, turning quickly, I saw that a portion of 
 the roof of the chamber had fallen in. Nor had it 
 ceased to fall. As I gazed, several great masses 
 of ice came down from above and piled themselves 
 upon that which had already fallen. 
 
 Startled and frightened, I sprang toward the 
 opening of the entrance tunnel ; but, alas ! I 
 found that that was the point where the roof had 
 
MY TERMINAL MORAINE. 143 
 
 given way, and between me and the outer world 
 was a wall of solid ice, through which it would be 
 as impossible for me to break as if it were a 
 barrier of rock. With the quick instinct which 
 comes to men in danger, I glanced about to see if 
 the workmen had left their tools ; but there were 
 none. They had been taken outside. Then I 
 stood and gazed stupidly at the mass of fallen ice, 
 which, even as I looked upon it, was cracking and 
 snapping, pressed down by the weight above it, 
 and forming itself into an impervious barrier with 
 out crevice or open seam. 
 
 Then I madly shouted. But of what avail were 
 shouts down there in the depths of the earth ? I 
 soon ceased this useless expenditure of strength, 
 and, with my lantern in my hand, began to walk 
 around the chamber, throwing the light upon the 
 walls and the roof. I became impressed with the 
 fear that the whole cavity might cave in at once 
 and bury me here in a tomb of ice. But I saw no 
 cracks, nor any sign of further disaster. But why 
 think of anything more ? Was not this enough ? 
 For, before that ice-barrier could be cleared away, 
 would I not freeze to death ? 
 
 I now continued to walk, not because I expected 
 
144 W TERMINAL MORAINE. 
 
 to find anything or do anything, but simply to 
 keep myself warm by action. As long as I could 
 move about I believed that there was no imme 
 diate danger of succumbing to the intense cold ; 
 for, when a young man, travelling in Switzerland, 
 I had been in the cave of a glacier, and it was 
 not cold enough to prevent some old women from 
 sitting there to play the zither for the sake of a 
 few coppers from visitors. I could not expect to 
 be able to continue walking until I should be 
 rescued, and if I sat down, or by chance slept from 
 exhaustion, I must perish. 
 
 The more I thought of it, the more sure I 
 became that in any case I must perish. A man 
 in a block of ice could have no chance of life. 
 And Agnes ! Oh, heavens ! what demon of the ice 
 had leagued with old Havelot to shut me up in 
 this frozen prison ? For a long time I continued 
 to walk, beat my body with my arms, and stamp 
 my feet. The instinct of life was strong within 
 me. I would live as long as I could, and think of 
 A<ines. When I should be frozen I could not 
 
 o 
 
 think of her. 
 
 Sometimes I stopped and listened. I was sure 
 
MY TERMINAL MORAINE. 145 
 
 I could hear noises, but I could not tell whether 
 they were above me or not. In the centre of the 
 ice-barrier, about four feet from the ground, was 
 a vast block of the frozen substance which was 
 unusually clear and seemed to have nothing on 
 the other side of it ; for through it I could see 
 flickers of light, as though people \vere going 
 about with lanterns. It was quite certain that the 
 accident had been discovered, for, had not the 
 thundering noise been heard by persons outside, 
 the workmen would have seen what had happened 
 as soon as they came into the tunnel to begin 
 their afternoon operations. 
 
 At first I wondered why they did not set to 
 work with a will and cut away this barrier and let 
 me out. But there suddenly came to my mind a 
 reason for this lack of energy which was more 
 chilling than the glistening walls around jnc : 
 Why should they suppose that I was in the ice- 
 chamber ? I was not in the habit of coming here 
 very often, but I was in the habit of wandering off 
 by myself at all hours of the day. This thought 
 made me feel that I might as well lie down on 
 the floor of this awful cave and die at once. The 
 
140 MY TERMINAL MORAINE. 
 
 workmen might think it unsafe to mine any further 
 in this part of the glacier, and begin operations at 
 some other point. I did sit down for a moment, 
 and then I rose involuntarily and began my weary 
 round. Suddenly I thought of looking at my 
 watch. It was nearly five o clock. I had been 
 more than four hours in that dreadful place, and I 
 did not believe that I could continue to exercise 
 my limbs very much longer. The lights I had 
 seen had ceased. It was quite plain that the 
 workmen had no idea that anyone was imprisoned 
 in the cave. 
 
 But soon after I had come to this conclusion I 
 saw through the clear block of ice a speck of light, 
 and it became stronger and stronger, until I believed 
 it to be close to the other side of the block. There 
 it remained stationary ; but there seemed to be 
 other points of light which moved about in a 
 strange way, and near it. Now I stood by the 
 block watching. When my feet became very cold 
 I stamped them ; but there I stood fascinated, for 
 what I saw was truly surprising. A large coal of 
 fire appeared on the other side of the block ; then 
 it suddenly vanished and was succeeded by another 
 
MY TERMINAL MORAINE. 147 
 
 coal. This disappeared, and another took its place, 
 each one seeming to come nearer and nearer to 
 me. Again and again did these coals appear. 
 They reached the centre of the block ; they ap 
 proached my side of it. At last one was so near 
 to me that I thought it was about to break through, 
 but it vanished. Then there came a few quick 
 thuds and the end of a piece of iron protruded 
 from the block. This was withdrawn, and through 
 the aperture there came a voice, which said, " Mr. 
 Cuthbert, are you in there?" It was the voice 
 of Agnes ! 
 
 Weak and cold as I was, fire and energy rushed 
 through me at these words. " Yes," I exclaimed, 
 my mouth to the hole ; " Agnes, is that you ?" 
 
 "Wait a minute," came from the other side of 
 the aperture. " I must make it bigger. I must 
 keep it from closing up." 
 
 Again came the coals of fire, running backward 
 and forward through the long hole in the block of 
 ice. I could see now what they were. They were 
 irons used by plumbers for melting solder and 
 that sort of thing, and Agnes was probably heating 
 
 them in a little furnace outside, and withdrawing 
 
 L 2 
 
148 MY TERMINAL MORAINE. 
 
 them as fast as they cooled. It was not long 
 before the aperture was very much enlarged ; and 
 then there came grating through it a long tin tube 
 nearly two inches in diameter, which almost, but 
 not quite, reached my side of the block. 
 
 Now came again the voice of Agnes : " Oh, Mr. 
 Cuthbert, are you truly there ? Are you crushed ? 
 Are you wounded ? Are you nearly frozen ? Are 
 you starved ? Tell me quickly if you are yet 
 safe." 
 
 Had I stood in a palace padded with the softest 
 silk and filled with spicy odours from a thousand 
 rose-gardens, I could not have been better satisfied 
 with my surroundings than I was at that moment. 
 Agnes was not two feet away ! She was telling me 
 that she cared for me ! In a very few words I 
 assured her that I was uninjured. Then I was on 
 the point of telling her I loved her, for I believed 
 that not a moment should be lost in making this 
 avowal. I could not die without her knowing that. 
 But the appearance of a mass of paper at the 
 other end of the tube prevented the expression of 
 my sentiments. This was slowly pushed on until 
 I could reach it. Then there came the words : 
 
MY TERMINAL MORAINE. 149 
 
 " Mr. Cuthbcrt, these are sandwiches. Eat them 
 immediately and walk about while you are doing 
 it. You must keep yourself warm until the men 
 get to you." 
 
 Obedient to the slightest wish of this dear crea 
 ture, I went twice round the cave, devouring the 
 sandwiches as I walked. They were the most 
 delicious food that I had ever tasted. They were 
 given to me by Agnes. I came back to the open 
 ing. I could not immediately begin my avowal. 
 I must ask a question first. " Can they get to 
 me ? " I inquired. " Is anybody trying to do that ? 
 Arc they working there by you ? I do not hear 
 them at all." 
 
 " Oh, no," she answered ; " they are not working 
 here. They are on top of the bluff, trying to dig 
 down to you. They were afraid to meddle with 
 the ice here for fear that more of it might come 
 down and crush you and the men, too. Oh, there 
 has been dreadful excitement since it was found 
 that you were in there ! " 
 
 " How could they know I was here ? " I asked. 
 
 " It was your old Susan who first thought of it 
 She saw you walking towards the shaft about 
 
150 MY TERMINAL MORAINE. 
 
 noon, and then she remembered that she had not 
 seen you again ; and when they came into the 
 tunnel here they found one of the lanterns gone 
 and the big stick you generally carry lying where 
 the lantern had been. Then it was known that 
 you must be inside. Oh, then there was an awful 
 time ! The foreman of the icemen examined 
 everything, and said they must dig down to you 
 from above. He put his men to work ; but they 
 could do very little, for they had hardly any 
 spades. Then they sent into town for help, and 
 over to the new park for the Italians working 
 there. From the way these men set to work you 
 might have thought that they would dig away the 
 whole bluff in about five minutes; but they didn t. 
 Nobody seemed to know what to do, or how to get 
 to work ; and the hole they made when they did 
 begin was filled up with men almost as fast as they 
 threw out the stones and gravel. I don t believe 
 anything would have been done properly if your 
 friend, Mr. Burton, hadn t happened to come with 
 two scientific gentlemen, and since that he has 
 been directing everything. You can t think what 
 a splendid fellow he is ! I fairly adored him when 
 
MY TERMINAL MORAINE. 151 
 
 I saw him giving his orders and making everybody 
 skip around in the right way." 
 
 " Tom is a very good man," said I ; " but it is 
 his business to direct that sort of work, and it is 
 not surprising that he knows how to do it. But, 
 Agnes, they may never get down to me, and we do 
 not know that this roof may not cave in upon me 
 at any moment ; and before this or anything else 
 happens I want to tell you " 
 
 " Mr. Cuthbert," said Agnes, " is there plenty of 
 oil jn your lantern ? It would be dreadful if it 
 were to go out and leave you there in the dark, I 
 thought of that and brought you a little bottle of 
 kerosene so that you can fill it. I am going to 
 push the bottle through now, if you please." And 
 with this a large phial, cork-end foremost, came 
 slowly through the tube, propelled by one of the 
 soldering-irons. Then came Agnes s voice : " Please 
 fill your lantern immediately, because if it goes out 
 you cannot find it in the dark ; and then walk 
 several times around the cave, for you have been 
 standing still too long already." 
 
 I obeyed these injunctions, but in two or three 
 minutes was again at the end of the tube. "Agnes," 
 
152 MY TERMINAL MORAINE. 
 
 said I, "how did you happen to come here? Did 
 you contrive in your own mind this method of 
 communicating with me ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes ; I did," she said. ." Everybody said 
 that this mass of ice must not be meddled with, 
 but I knew very well it would not hurt it to make 
 a hole through it." 
 
 " But how did you happen to be here ?" I asked. 
 
 " Oh, I ran over as soon as I heard of the acci 
 dent. Everybody ran here. The whole neighbour 
 hood is on top of the bluff; but nobody wanted to 
 come into the tunnel, because they were afraid that 
 more of it might fall in. So I was able to work 
 here all by myself, and I am very glad of it. I 
 saw the soldering-iron and the little furnace outside 
 of your house where the plumbers had been using 
 them, and I brought them here myself. Then I 
 thought that a simple hole through the ice might 
 soon freeze up again, and if you were alive inside 
 I could not do anything to help you ; and so I ran 
 home and got my diploma-case, that had had one 
 end melted out of it, and I brought that to stick in 
 the hole. I m so glad that it is long enough, or 
 almost." 
 
MY TERMINAL MORAINE. 153 
 
 " Oh, Agnes," I cried, " you thought of all this 
 for me ? " 
 
 " Why, of course, Mr. Cuthbert," she answered, 
 before I had a chance to say anything more. "You 
 were in great danger of perishing before the men 
 got to you, and nobody seemed to think of any way 
 to give you immediate relief. And don t you think 
 that a collegiate education is a good thing for girls 
 at least, that it was for me." 
 
 " Agnes," I exclaimed, " please let me speak. I 
 want to tell you, I must tell you 
 
 But the voice of Agnes was clearer than mine, 
 and it overpowered my words. " Mr. Cuthbert," 
 she said, " we cannot both speak through this tube 
 at the same time in opposite directions. I have 
 here a bottle of water for you, but I am very much 
 afraid it will not go through the diploma-case." 
 
 " Oh, I don t want any water," I said. " I can 
 eat ice if I am thirsty. What I want is to tell 
 you " 
 
 " Mr. Cuthbert," said she, " you must not cat 
 that ice. Water that was frozen countless ages ago 
 may be very different from the water of modern 
 times, and might not agree with you. Don t touch 
 
154 MY TERMINAL MORAINE. 
 
 it, please. I am going to push the bottle through 
 if I can. I tried to think of everything that you 
 might need, and brought them all at once ; because 
 if I could not keep the hole open, I wanted to get 
 them to you without losing a minute." 
 
 Now the bottle came slowly through. It was a 
 small beer bottle, I think, and several times I was 
 afraid it was going to stick fast and cut off com 
 munication between me and the outer world ; that 
 is to say, between me and Agnes. But at last the 
 cork and the neck appeared, and I pulled it through. 
 I did not drink any of it, but immediately applied 
 my mouth to the tube. 
 
 " Agnes," I said, " my dear Agnes, you really 
 must not prevent me from speaking. I can 
 not delay another minute. This is an awful 
 position for me to be in, and as you don t seem to 
 realise 
 
 " But I do realise, Mr. Cuthbcrt, that if you don t 
 walk about you will certainly freeze before you can 
 be rescued. Between every two or three words you 
 want to take at least one turn around that place. 
 How dreadful it would be if you were suddenly to 
 become benumbed and stiff! Everybody is think- 
 
MY TERMINAL MORAINE. 155 
 
 ing of that. The best diggers that Mr. Burton had 
 were three coloured men ; but after they had gone 
 down nothing like as deep as a well, they came up 
 frightened, and said they would not dig another 
 shovelful for the whole world. Perhaps you don t 
 know it, but there s a story about the neighbourhood 
 that the negro hell is under your property. You 
 know many of the coloured people expect to be 
 everlastingly punished with ice and not with 
 fire " 
 
 Agnes," I interrupted, " I am punished with ice 
 and fire both. Please let me tell you 
 
 " I was going on to say, Mr. Cuthbcrt," she 
 interrupted, " that when the Italians heard why the 
 coloured men had come out of the hole they would 
 not go in either, for they are just as afraid of ever 
 lasting ice as the negroes are, and were sure that 
 if the bottom came out of that hole they would 
 fall into a frozen lower world. So there was 
 nothing to do but to send for paupers, and they 
 are working now. You know paupers have to do 
 what they arc told without regard to their beliefs. 
 They got a dozen of them from the poorhousc. 
 Somebody said they just threw them into the 
 
156 MY TERMINAL MORAINE. 
 
 hole. Now I must stop talking, for it is time for 
 you to walk around again. Would you like 
 another sandwich ? " 
 
 " Agnes," said I, endeavouring to speak calmly, 
 " all I want is to be able to tell you 
 
 " And when you walk, Mr. Cuthbcrt, you had 
 better keep around the edge of the chamber, for 
 there is no knowing when they may come through. 
 Mr. Burton and the foreman of the icemen 
 measured the bluff so that they say the hole they 
 are making is exactly over the middle of the 
 chamber you arc in, and if you walk around the 
 edge the pieces may not fall on you." 
 
 " If you don t listen to me, Agnes," I said, " I ll 
 go and sit anywhere, everywhere, where death 
 may come to me quickest. Your coldness is 
 worse than the coldness of the cave. I cannot 
 bear it." 
 
 u But, Mr. Cuthbert," said Agnes, speaking, I 
 thought, with some agitation, " I have been listen 
 ing to you, and what more can you possibly have 
 to say ? If there is anything you want, let me 
 know. I will run and get it for you." 
 
 " There is no need that you should go away to 
 
MY TERMINAL MORAINE. 157 
 
 get what I want," I said. " It is there with you. 
 It is you." 
 
 " Mr. Cuthbert," said Agnes, in a very low voice, 
 but so distinctly that I could hear every word, 
 " don t you think it would be better for you to give 
 your whole mind to keeping yourself warm and 
 strong ? For if you let yourself get benumbed you 
 may sink down and freeze." 
 
 " Agnes," I said, " I will not move from this little 
 hole until I have told you that I love you, that I 
 have no reason to care for life or rescue unless you 
 return my love, unless you are willing to be mine. 
 Speak quickly to me, Agnes, because I may not be 
 rescued, and may never know whether my love for 
 you is returned or not." 
 
 At this moment there was a tremendous crash 
 behind me, and, turning, I saw a mass of broken 
 ice upon the floor of the cave, with a cloud of dust 
 and smaller fragments still falling. And then with 
 a great scratching and scraping, and a howl loud 
 enough to waken the echoes of all the lower 
 regions, down came a red-headed drunken shoe 
 maker. I cannot say that he was drunk at that 
 moment, but I knew the man the moment I saw 
 
158 MY TERMINAL MORAINE. 
 
 his carroty poll, and it was drink which had sent 
 him to the poor-house. 
 
 But the sprawling and howling cobbler did not 
 reach the floor. A rope had been fastened around 
 his waist to prevent a fall in case the bottom of 
 the pit should suddenly give way, and he hung 
 dangling in mid-air with white face and distended 
 eyes, cursing and swearing and vociferously en 
 treating to be pulled up. But before he received 
 any answer from above, or I could speak to him, 
 there came through the hole in the roof of the cave 
 a shower of stones and gravel, and with them a 
 frantic Italian, his legs and arms outspread, his 
 face wild with terror. 
 
 Just as he appeared in view he grasped the rope 
 of the cobbler, and, though in a moment he came 
 down heavily upon the floor of the chamber, this 
 broke his fall, and he did not appear to be hurt. 
 Instantly he crouched low and almost upon all 
 fours, and began to run around the chamber, keep 
 ing close to the walls and screaming, I suppose to 
 preserve him from the torments of the frozen 
 damned. 
 
 In the midst of this hubbub came the voice of 
 
MY TERMINAL MORAINE. 159 
 
 Agnes through the hole : " Oh, Mr. Cuthbcrt, what 
 has happened ? Are you alive ? " 
 
 I was so disappointed by the appearance of these 
 wretched interlopers at the moment it was about 
 to be decided whether my life should it last for 
 years, or but for a few minutes was to be black 
 or bright, and I was so shaken and startled by the 
 manner of their entry upon the scene, that I could 
 not immediately shape the words necessary to 
 inform Agnes what had happened. But, collecting 
 my faculties, I was about to speak, when suddenly, 
 with the force of the hind leg of a mule, I was 
 pushed away from the aperture, and the demoniac 
 Italian clapped his great mouth to the end of the 
 tube and roared through it a volume of oaths and 
 supplications. I attempted to thrust aside the 
 w r retched being, but I might as well have tried to 
 move the ice barrier itself. He had perceived 
 that someone outside was talking to me, and in 
 his frenzy he was imploring that someone should 
 let him out. 
 
 While still endeavouring to move the man, I 
 was seized by the arm, and turning, beheld the 
 pallid face of the shoemaker. They had let him 
 
6o MY TERMINAL MORAINE. 
 
 down so that he reached the floor. He tried to 
 fall on his knees before me, but the rope was 
 so short that he was able to go only part of 
 the way down, and presented a most ludicrous 
 appearance, with his toes scraping the icy floor 
 and his arms thrown out as if he were paddling 
 like a tadpole. " Oh, have mercy upon me, sir," 
 he said, " and help me get out of this dreadful 
 place. If you go to the hole and call up it s 
 you, they will pull me up ; but if they get you 
 out first they will never think of me. I am a poor 
 pauper, sir, but I never did nothin to be packed in 
 ice before I am dead." 
 
 Noticing that the Italian had left the end of the 
 aperture in the block of ice, and that he was now 
 shouting up the open shaft, I ran to the channel 
 of communication which my Agnes had opened 
 for me, and called through it ; but the dear girl 
 had gone. 
 
 The end of a ladder now appeared at the 
 opening in the roof ; and this was let down until it 
 reached the floor. I started toward it, but before 
 I had gone half the distance the frightened shoe 
 maker and the maniac Italian sprang upon it, and, 
 
MY TERMINAL MORAINE. 161 
 
 with shrieks and oaths, began a maddening fight 
 for possession of the ladder. They might quickly 
 have gone up one after the other, but each had no 
 thought but to be first ; and as one seized the 
 rounds he was pulled away by the other, until 
 I feared the ladder would be torn to pieces. The 
 shoemaker finally pushed his way up a little 
 distance, when the Italian sprang upon his back, 
 endeavouring to climb over him ; and so on they 
 went up the shaft, fighting, swearing, kicking, 
 scratching, shaking and wrenching the ladder, 
 which had been tied to another one in order 
 to increase its length, so that it was in danger of 
 breaking, and tearing at each other in a fashion 
 which made it wonderful that they did not both 
 tumble headlong downward. They went on up, 
 so completely filling the shaft with their struggling 
 forms and their wild cries that I could not see or 
 hear anything, and was afraid, in fact, to look up 
 toward the outer air. 
 
 As I was afterward informed, the Italian, who 
 had slipped into the hole by accident, ran away 
 like a frightened hare the moment he got his feet 
 
 on firm ground, and the shoemaker sat down and 
 
 M 
 
162 MY TERMINAL MORAINE. 
 
 swooned. By this performance he obtained from 
 a benevolent bystander a drink of whisky, the 
 first he had had since he was committed to the 
 poorhouse. 
 
 But a voice soon came down the shaft calling to 
 me. I recognised it as that of Tom Burton, and 
 replied that I was safe, and that I was coming up 
 the ladder. But in my attempt to climb, I found 
 that I was unable to do so. Chilled and stiffened 
 by the cold and weakened by fatigue and excite 
 ment, I believe I never should have been able to 
 leave that ice-chamber if my faithful friend had 
 not come down the ladder and vigorously assisted 
 me to reach the outer air. 
 
 Seated on the ground, my back against a great 
 oak-tree, I was quickly surrounded by a crowd of 
 my neighbours, the workmen and the people who 
 had been drawn to the spot by the news of the 
 strange accident to gaze at me as if I were some 
 unknown being excavated from the bowels of the 
 earth. I was sipping some brandy-and-water 
 which Burton had handed me, \vhen Aaron Boyce 
 pushed himself in front of me. 
 
 " Well, sir," he said, <4 1 am mighty glad you got 
 
MY TERMINAL MORAINE. 163 
 
 out of that scrape. I m bound to say I didn t 
 expect you would. I have been sure all along that 
 it wasn t right to meddle with things that go agin 
 Nature, and I haven t any doubt that you ll see 
 that for yourself and fill up all them tunnels 
 and shafts you ve made. The ice that comes on 
 ponds and rivers was good enough for our fore 
 fathers, and it ought to be good enough for us. 
 And as for this cold stuff you find in your gravel 
 pit, I don t believe it s ice at all ; and if it is, like 
 as not it s made of some sort of pizen stuff that 
 freezes easier than water. For everybody knows 
 that water don t freeze in a well, and if it don t do 
 that, why should it do it in any kind of a hole in 
 the ground ? So perhaps its just as well that you 
 did git shut up there, sir, and find out for yourself 
 what a dangerous thing it is to fool with Nature 
 and try to get ice from the bottom of the ground 
 instead of the top of the water." 
 
 This speech made me angry, for I knew that old 
 Boyce was a man who was always glad to get 
 hold of anything which had gone wrong and to 
 try to make it worse ; but I was too weak to 
 
 answer him. 
 
 M 2 
 
164 MY TERMINAL MORAINE. 
 
 This, however, would not have been necessary, 
 for Tom Burton turned upon him. " Idiot," said he, 
 " if that is your way of thinking, you might as well 
 say that if a well caves in you should never again 
 dig for water, or that nobody should have a cellar 
 under his house for fear that the house should fall 
 into it. There s no more danger of the ice beneath 
 us ever giving way again than there is that this 
 bluff should crumble under our feet. That break 
 in the roof of the ice-tunnel was caused by my 
 digging away the face of the bluff very near that 
 spot. The high temperature of the outer air 
 weakened the ice, and it fell. But down here, 
 under this ground and secure from the influences 
 of the heat of the outer air, the mass of ice is more 
 solid than rock. We will build a brick arch over 
 the place where the accident happened, and then 
 there will not be a safer mine on this continent 
 than this ice-mine will be." 
 
 This was a wise and diplomatic speech from 
 Burton, and it proved to be of great service to me ; 
 for the men who had been taking out ice had been 
 a good deal frightened by the fall of the tunnel, and 
 when it was proved that what Burton had said in 
 
MY TERMINAL MORAINE. 165 
 
 regard to the cause of the weakening of the ice was 
 entirely correct, they became willing to go to work 
 again. 
 
 I now began to feel stronger and better, and, 
 rising to my feet, I glanced here and there into the 
 crowd, hoping to catch a sight of Agnes. But I was 
 not very much surprised at not seeing her, because 
 she would naturally shrink from forcing herself into 
 the midst of this motley company ; but I felt that 
 I must go and look for her without the loss of a 
 minute, for if she should return to her father s house 
 I might not be able to see her again. 
 
 On the outskirts of the crowd I met Susan, who 
 was almost overpowered with joy at seeing me safe 
 again. I shook her by the hand, but, without 
 replying to her warm-hearted protestations of 
 thankfulness and delight, I asked her if she had 
 seen Miss Havelot. 
 
 " Miss Agnes ! " she exclaimed. " Why, no, sir ; 
 I expect she s at home ; and if she did come here 
 with the rest of the neighbours I didn t see her ; for 
 when I found out what had happened, sir, I was so 
 weak that I sat down in the kitchen all of a lump, 
 and have just had strength enough to come out." 
 
166 MY TERMINAL MORAINE. 
 
 " Oh, I know she was here," I cried ; " I am sure 
 of that, and I do hope she s not gone home again." 
 
 " Know she was here ! " exclaimed Susan. "Why, 
 how on earth could you know that ? " 
 
 I did not reply that it was not on the earth but 
 under it that I became aware of the fact, but hurried 
 toward the Havelot house, hoping to overtake 
 Agnes if she had gone that way. But I did not see 
 her, and suddenly a startling idea struck me, and I 
 turned and ran home as fast as I could go. When 
 I reached my grounds I went directly to the mouth 
 of the shaft. There was nobody there, for the 
 crowd was collected into a solid mass on the top 
 of the bluff, listening to a lecture from Tom Burton, 
 who deemed it well to promote the growth of 
 interest and healthy opinion in regard to his won 
 derful discovery and my valuable possession. I 
 hurried down the shaft, and near the end of it, just 
 before it joined the ice-tunnel, I beheld Agnes 
 sitting upon the wooden track. She was not 
 unconscious, for as I approached she slightly turned 
 her head. I sprang toward her ; I kneeled beside 
 her ; I took her in my arms. " Oh, Agnes, dearest 
 Agnes," I cried, "what is the matter? What has 
 
MY TERMINAL MORAINE. 167 
 
 happened to you ? Has a piece of ice fallen upon 
 you ? Have you slipped and hurt yourself? " 
 
 She turned her beautiful eyes up toward me and 
 for a moment did not speak. Then she said : 
 "And they got you out? And you are in your 
 right mind ? " 
 
 " Right mind ! " I exclaimed. " I have never been 
 out of my mind. What are you thinking of? " 
 
 " Oh, you must have been," she said, " when you 
 screamed at me in that horrible way. I was so 
 frightened that I fell back, and I must have fainted." 
 
 Tremulous as I was with love and anxiety, I 
 could not help laughing. " Oh, my dear Agnes, I 
 did not scream at you. That was a crazed Italian 
 who fell through the hole that they dug." Then I 
 told her what had happened. 
 
 She heaved a gentle sigh. " I am so glad to hear 
 that," she said. " There was one thing that I was 
 thinking about just before you came and which 
 gave me a little bit of comfort : the words and yells 
 I heard were dreadfully oniony, and somehow or 
 other I could not connect that sort of thine with 
 
 you. 
 
 It now struck me that during this conversation I 
 
168 MY TERMINAL MORAINE. 
 
 had been holding my dear girl in my arms, and she 
 had not shown the slightest sign of resistance or 
 disapprobation. This made my heart beat high. 
 " Oh, Agnes," I said, " I truly believe you love me, 
 or you would not have been here, you would not 
 have done for me all that you did. Why did you 
 not answer me when I spoke to you through that 
 wall of ice, through the hole your dear love had 
 made in it ? Why, when I was in such a terrible 
 situation, not knowing whether I was to die or live, 
 did you not comfort my heart with one sweet 
 word ? " 
 
 "Oh, Walter," she answered, "it wasn t at all 
 necessary for you to say all that you did say, for I 
 had suspected it before, and as soon as you began 
 to call me Agnes I knew, of course, how you felt 
 about it. And, besides, it really was necessary 
 that you should move about to keep yourself from 
 freezing. But the great reason for my not encourag 
 ing you to go on talking in that way was that I 
 was afraid people might come into the tunnel, and 
 as, of course, you would not know that they were 
 there, you would go on making love to me through 
 my diploma-case, and you know I should have 
 perished with shame if I had had to stand there 
 
MY TERMINAL MORAINE. 169 
 
 with that old Mr. Boyce, and I don t know who 
 
 else, listening to your words, which were very sweet 
 
 to me, Walter, but which would have sounded 
 
 awfully funny to them." 
 
 When she said that my words had been sweet 
 
 to her I dropped the consideration of all other 
 
 subjects. 
 
 When, about ten minutes afterward, \ve came out 
 
 of the shaft we were met by Susan. 
 
 " Bless my soul and body, Mr. Cuthbert ! " she 
 exclaimed. " Did you find that young lady down 
 there in the centre of the earth ? It seems to me 
 as if everything that you want comes to you out of 
 the ground. But I have been looking for you to 
 tell you that Mr. Havelot has been here after his 
 daughter, and I m sure if he had known where 
 she was, he would have been scared out of his 
 wits." 
 
 " Father here ! " exclaimed Agnes. " Where is 
 he now ? " 
 
 " I think he has gone home, miss. Indeed, I m 
 sure of it ; for my daughter Jennie, who was over 
 here the same as all the other people in the county, 
 I truly believe told him and I was proud she had 
 the spirit to speak up that way to him that your 
 
i/o MY TERMINAL MORAINE. 
 
 heart was almost broke when you heard about Mr. 
 Cuthbert being shut up in the ice, and that most 
 likely you was in your own room a-cryin your eyes 
 out. When he heard that he stood lookin all 
 around the place, and then he asked me if he might 
 go in the house ; and when I told him he was most 
 welcome, he went in. I offered to show him about, 
 which he said was no use, that he had been there 
 often enough ; and he went everywhere, I truly 
 believe, except in the garret and the cellar. And 
 after he got through with that he went out to the 
 barn and then walked home." 
 
 " I must go to him immediately," said Agnes. 
 
 " But not alone," said I. And together we 
 walked through the woods, over the little field and 
 across the Havelot lawn to the house. We were 
 told the old gentleman was in his library, and to 
 gether we entered the room. 
 
 Mr. Havelot was sitting by a table on which 
 were lying several open volumes of an encyclo 
 paedia. When he turned and saw us, he closed his 
 book, pushed back his chair, "and took off his spec 
 tacles. " Upon my word, sir," he cried ; " and so 
 the first thing you do after they pull you out of the 
 earth is to come here and break my commands." 
 
MY TERMINAL MORAINE. 171 
 
 " I came on the invitation of your daughter, sir." 
 
 " And what right has she to invite you, I d like 
 to know?" 
 
 " She has every right, for to her I owe my exis 
 tence." 
 
 " What rabid nonsense ! " exclaimed the old 
 gentleman. " People don t owe their existence to 
 the silly creatures they fall in love with." 
 
 " I assure you I am correct, sir." And then I 
 related to him what his daughter had done, and 
 how through her angelic agency my rescuers had 
 found me a living being instead of a frozen corpse. 
 
 " Stuff! " said Mr. Havelot. " People can live in 
 a temperature of thirty-two degrees above zero all 
 winter. Out in Minnesota they think that s hot. 
 And you gave him victuals and drink through your 
 diploma-case ! Well, miss, I told you that if you 
 tried to roast chestnuts in that diploma-case the 
 bottom would come out." 
 
 " But you see, father," said Agnes, earnestly, 
 "the reason I did that was because when I roast 
 them in anything shallow they popped into the fire, 
 but they could not jump out of the diploma-case." 
 
 " Well, something else seems to have jumped out 
 of it," said the old gentleman, " and something 
 
172 MY TERMINAL MORAINE. 
 
 with which I am not satisfied. I have been looking 
 over these books, sir, and have read the articles on 
 ice, glaciers and caves, and I find no record of any 
 thing in the whole history of the world which in 
 the least resembles the cock-and-bull story I am 
 told about the butt-end of a glacier which tumbled 
 into a cave in your ground, and has been lying 
 there through all the geological ages, and the eras of 
 formation, and periods of animate existence down 
 to the days of Noah, and Moses, and Methuselah, 
 and Rameses II., and Alexander the Great, and 
 Martin Luther, and John Wesley to this day, for 
 you to dig out and sell to the Williamstown Ice 
 Company." 
 
 " But that s what happened, sir," said I. 
 
 "And besides, father," added Agnes, "the gold 
 and silver that people take out of mines may have 
 been in the ground as long as that ice has been." 
 
 " Bosh ! " said Mr. Havelot. " The cases are not 
 at all similar. It is simply impossible that a piece 
 of a glacier should have fallen into a cave and been 
 preserved in that way. The temperature of caves 
 is always above the freezing-point, and that ice 
 would have melted a million years before you were 
 born." 
 
MY TERMINAL MORAINE, 173 
 
 " But, father," said Agnes, " the temperature of 
 caves filled with ice must be very much lower than 
 that of common caves." 
 
 " And apart from that," I added, " the ice is still 
 there, sir." 
 
 " That doesn t make the slightest difference," he 
 replied. " It s against all reason and common- 
 sense that such a thing could have happened. 
 Even if there ever was a glacier in this part of the 
 country, and if the lower portion of it did stick 
 out over an immense hole in the ground, that pro 
 truding end would never have broken off and 
 tumbled in. Glaciers are too thick and massive 
 for that." 
 
 " But the glacier is there, sir," said I, " in spite 
 of your own reasoning." 
 
 " And then again," continued the old gentleman, 
 " if there had been a cave and a projecting spur 
 the ice would have gradually melted and dripped 
 into the cave, and we would have had a lake and 
 not an ice-mine. It is a perfect absurdity." 
 
 " But it s there, notwithstanding," said I. 
 
 " And you cannot subvert facts, you know 
 father," added Agnes. 
 
 " Confound facts ! " he cried. " I base my argu- 
 
174 MY TERMINAL MORAINE. 
 
 ments on sober, cool-headed reason ; and there s 
 nothing that can withstand reason. The thing s 
 impossible, and, therefore, it has never happened. 
 I went over to your place, sir, when I heard of 
 the accident, for the misfortunes of my neighbours 
 interest me, no matter what may be my opinion 
 of them, and when I found that you had been ex 
 tricated from your ridiculous predicament, I went 
 through your house, and I was pleased to find it 
 in as good or better condition than I had known 
 it in the days of your respected father. I was 
 glad to see the improvement in your circum 
 stances ; but when I am told, sir, that your 
 apparent prosperity rests upon such an absurdity 
 as a glacier in a gravel-hill, I can but smile with 
 contempt, sir." 
 
 I was getting a little tired of this. " But the 
 glacier is there, sir," I said, " and I am taking out 
 ice every day, and have reason to believe that I 
 can continue to take it out for the rest of my life. 
 With such facts as these before me, I am bound 
 to say, sir, that I don t care in the least about 
 reason." 
 
 " And I am here, father," said Agnes, coming 
 
MY TERMINAL MORAINE. 175 
 
 close to me, " and here I want to continue for the 
 rest of my days." 
 
 The old gentleman looked at her. " And, I 
 suppose," he said, "that you, too, don t in the 
 least care about reason ? " 
 
 " Not a bit," said Agnes. 
 
 "Well," said Mr. Havelot, rising,"! have done 
 all I can to make you two listen to reason, and I 
 can do no more. I despair of making sensible 
 human beings of you, and so you might as well 
 go on acting like a couple of ninny-hammers." 
 
 " Do ninny-hammers marry and settle on the 
 property adjoining yours, sir ? " I asked. 
 
 " Yes ; I suppose they do," he said. " And 
 when the aboriginal icehouse, or whatever the 
 ridiculous thing is that they have discovered, 
 gives out. I suppose that they can come to a 
 reasonable man and ask him for a little money to 
 buy bread and butter. 
 
 Two years have passed, and Agnes and the 
 glacier are still mine ; great blocks of ice now 
 flow in almost a continuous stream from the mine 
 to the railroad-station, and in a smaller, but quite 
 as continuous stream an income flows in upon 
 
176 MY TERMINAL MORAINE. 
 
 Agnes and me ; and from one of the experimental 
 excavations made by Tom Burton on the bluff 
 comes a stream of ice-cold water running in a 
 sparkling brook a-down my dell. On fine morn 
 ings before I am up, I am credibly informed that 
 Aaron Boyce may generally be found, in season 
 and out of season, endeavouring to catch the trout 
 with which I am trying to stock that ice-cold 
 stream. The diploma- case, which I caused to be 
 carefully removed from the ice-barrier which had 
 imprisoned me, now hangs in my study and holds 
 our marriage certificate. 
 
 Near the line-fence which separates his property 
 from mine, Mr. Havelot has sunk a wide shaft. 
 If the glacier spur under your land was a quarter 
 of a mile wide," he says to me, u it was probably at 
 least half a mile long ; and if that were the case, 
 the upper end of it extends into my place, and I 
 may be able to strike it." He has a good deal of 
 money, this worthy Mr. Havelot, but he would be 
 very glad to increase his riches, whether they are 
 based upon sound reason or ridiculous facts. As 
 for Agnes and myself, no facts or any reason could 
 make us happier than our ardent love and our 
 frigid fortune. 
 
THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELATIVE 
 EXISTENCES. 
 
 1 
 
 a certain summer, not long gone, my friend 
 < Bentley and I found ourselves in a little 
 hamlet which overlooked a placid valley, through 
 which a river gently moved, winding its way 
 through green stretches until it turned the end of a 
 line of low hills and was lost to view. Beyond this 
 river, far away, but visible from the door of the 
 cottage where we dwelt, there lay a city. Through 
 the mists which floated over the valley we could 
 see the outlines of steeples and tall roofs ; and 
 buildings of a character which indicated thrift and 
 business stretched themselves down to the opposite 
 edge of the river. The more distant parts of the 
 city, evidently a small one, lost themselves in the 
 hazy summer atmosphere. 
 
 Bentley was young, fair-haired, and a poet ; I 
 
 N 
 
i?H THE PHILOSOPHY OF 
 
 was a philosopher, or trying to be one. We were 
 good friends, and had come down into this peaceful 
 region to work together. Although we had fled 
 from the bustle and distractions of the town, the 
 appearance in this rural region of a city, which, so 
 far as we could observe, exerted no influence on the 
 quiet character of the valley in which it lay, aroused 
 our interest. No craft plied up and down the river; 
 there were no bridges from shore to shore ; there 
 were none of those scattered and half-squalid 
 habitations which generally are found on the out 
 skirts of a city ; there came to us no distant sound 
 of bells ; and not the smallest wreath of smoke rose 
 from any of the buildings. 
 
 In answer to our inquiries our landlord told us 
 that the city over the river had been built by one 
 man, who was a visionary, and who had a great deal 
 more money than common-sense. " It is not as big 
 a town as you would think, sirs," he said, " because 
 the general mistiness of things in this valley makes 
 them look larger than they are. Those hills, for 
 instance, when you get to them are not as high as 
 they look to be from here. But the town is big 
 enough, and a good deal too big ; for it ruined its 
 
RELATIVE EXISTENCES 179 
 
 builder and owner, who when he came to die had 
 not money enough left to put up a decent tomb 
 stone at the head of his grave. He had a queer 
 idea that he would like to have his town all finished 
 before anybody lived in it, and so he kept on working 
 and spending money year after year and year after 
 year until the city was done and he had not a cent 
 left. During all the time that the place was build 
 ing hundreds of people came to him to buy houses 
 or to hire them, but he would not listen to anything 
 of the kind. No one must live in his town till it 
 was all done. Even his workmen were obliged to 
 go away at night to lodge. It is a town, sirs, I am 
 told, in which nobody has slept for even a night. 
 There are streets there, and places of business, and 
 churches, and public halls, and everything that a 
 town full of inhabitants could need ; but it is all 
 empty and deserted, and has been so as far back as 
 I can remember, and I came to this region when I 
 was a little boy." 
 
 " And there is no one to guard the place ? " v/e 
 asked ; " no one to protect it from wandering 
 vagrants who might choose to take possession of 
 
 the buildings ? " 
 
 N 2 
 
i8o THE PHILOSOPHY OF 
 
 " There are not many vagrants in this part of the 
 country," he said ; " and if there were, they would 
 not go over to that city. It is haunted." 
 
 " By what ? " we asked. 
 
 " Well, sirs, I can scarcely tell you ; queer beings 
 that are not flesh and blood, and that is all I know 
 about it. A good many people living hereabouts 
 have visited that place once in their lives, but I 
 know of no one who has gone there a second time." 
 
 " And travellers," I said ; " are they not excited 
 by curiosity to explore that strange uninhabited 
 city?" 
 
 " Oh, yes," our host replied ; " almost all visitors 
 to the valley go over to that queer city generally 
 in small parties, for it is not a place in which one 
 wishes to walk about alone. Sometimes they see 
 things, and sometimes they don t. But I never 
 knew any man or woman show a fancy for living 
 there, although it is a very good town." 
 
 This was said at supper-time, and, as it was the 
 period of full moon, Bentley and I decided that we 
 would visit the haunted city that evening. Our 
 host endeavoured to dissuade us, saying that no one 
 ever went over there at night ; but as we were not 
 
RELATIVE EXISTENCES. 181 
 
 to be deterred, he told us where we would find his 
 small boat tied to a stake on the river bank. We 
 soon crossed the river, and landed at a broad, but 
 low, stone pier, at the land end of which a line of 
 tall grasses waved in the gentle night wind as if 
 they were sentinels warning us from entering the 
 silent city. We pushed through these, and walked 
 up a street fairly wide, and so well paved that we 
 noticed none of the weeds and other growths which 
 generally denote desertion or little use. By the 
 bright light of the moon we could see that the ar- 
 
 o o 
 
 chitecture was simple, and of a character highly 
 gratifying to the eye. All the buildings were of 
 stone and of good size. We were greatly excited 
 and interested, and proposed to continue our walks 
 until the moon should set, and to return on the 
 following morning " to live here, perhaps," said 
 Bentley. " What could be so romantic and yet so 
 real ? What could conduce better to the marriage 
 of verse and philosophy ? " But as he said this we 
 saw around the corner of a cross-street some forms 
 as of people hurrying away. 
 
 " The spectres," said my companion, laying his 
 hand on my arm. 
 
182 THE PHILOSOPHY OF 
 
 " Vagrants, more likely," I answered, " who 
 have taken advantage of the superstition of the 
 region to appropriate this comfort and beauty to 
 themselves." 
 
 " If that be so," said Bentley, " we must have a 
 care for our lives." 
 
 We proceeded cautiously, and soon saw other 
 forms fleeing before us and disappearing, as we 
 supposed, around corners and into houses. And 
 now suddenly finding ourselves upon the edge of 
 a wide, open public square, we saw in the dim 
 light for a tall steeple obscured the moon the 
 forms of vehicles, horses, and men moving here 
 and there. But before, in our astonishment, we 
 could say a word one to the other, the moon 
 moved past the steeple, and in its bright light we 
 could see none of the signs of life and traffic which 
 had just astonished us. 
 
 Timidly, with hearts beating fast, but with not 
 one thought of turning back, nor any fear of 
 vagrants, for we were now sure that what we 
 had seen was not flesh and blood, and therefore 
 harmless, we crossed the open space and entered 
 a street down which the moon shone clearly. 
 
RELATIVE EXISTENCES. 183 
 
 Here and there we saw dim figures, which quickly 
 disappeared ; but, approaching a low stone bal 
 cony in front of one of the houses, we were sur 
 prised to see, sitting thereon and leaning over a 
 book which lay open upon the top of the carved 
 parapet, the figure of a woman who did not appear 
 to notice us. 
 
 "That is a real person," whispered Bentley, "and 
 it does not see us." 
 
 " No," I replied ; " it is like the others. Let us 
 go near it." 
 
 We drew near to the balcony and stood before 
 it. At this the figure raised its head and looked 
 at us. It was beautiful, it was young ; but its 
 substance seemed to be of an ethereal quality 
 which we had never seen or known of. With its 
 full, soft eyes fixed upon us it spoke : 
 
 " Why are you here ? " it asked. " I have said 
 to myself that the next time I saw any of you I 
 would ask you why you come to trouble us. 
 Cannot you live content in your own realms and 
 spheres, knowing, as you must know, how timid 
 we are, and how you frighten us and make us 
 unhappy? In all this city there is, I believe, not 
 
1 84 THE PHILOSOPHY OF 
 
 one of us except myself who does not flee and 
 hide from you whenever you cruelly come here, 
 Even I would do that, had not I declared to my 
 self that I would see you and speak to you, and 
 endeavour to prevail upon you to leave us in peace." 
 
 The clear, frank tones of the speaker gave 
 me courage. " We are two men," I answered, 
 " strangers in this region, and living for the time 
 in the beautiful country on the other side of the 
 river. Having heard of this quiet city, we have 
 come to see it for ourselves. We had supposed it 
 to be uninhabited, but now that we find that this 
 is not the case, we would assure you from our 
 hearts that we do not wish to disturb or annoy 
 anyone who lives here. We simply came as 
 honest travellers to view the city." 
 
 The figure now seated herself again, and as her 
 countenance was nearer to us, we could see that it 
 was filled with pensive thought. For a moment 
 she looked at us without speaking. " Men ! " she 
 said. " And so I have been right. For a long 
 time I have believed that the beings who some 
 times come here, filling us with dread and awe, are 
 men," 
 
RELATIVE EXISTENCES. 185 
 
 " And you," I exclaimed " who are you, and 
 who are these forms that we have seen, these 
 strange inhabitants of this city ? " 
 
 She gently smiled as she answered : " We are 
 the ghosts of the future. We are the people who 
 are to live in this city generations hence. But all 
 of us do not know that, principally because we do 
 not think about it and study about it enough to 
 know it. And it is generally believed that the 
 men and women who sometimes come here are 
 ghosts who haunt the place." 
 
 " And that is why you are terrified and flee from 
 us?" I exclaimed. "You think we are ghosts from 
 another world ? " 
 
 "Yes," she replied; "that is what is thought, and 
 what I used to think." 
 
 " And you," I asked, " are spirits of human 
 beings yet to be ? " 
 
 " Yes," she answered ; " but not for a long time. 
 Generations of men, I know not how many, must 
 pass away before we are men and women." 
 
 " Heavens ! " exclaimed Bentley, clasping his 
 hands and raising his eyes to the sky, " I shall be 
 a spirit before you are a woman." 
 
1 86 THE PHILOSOPHY OF 
 
 " Perhaps," she said again, with a sweet smile 
 upon her face, "you may live to be very, very old." 
 
 But Bentley shook his head. This did not con 
 sole him. For some minutes I stood in con 
 templation, gazing upon the stone pavement 
 beneath rny feet. " And this," I ejaculated, " is 
 a city inhabited by the ghosts of the future, who 
 believe men and women to be phantoms and 
 spectres." 
 
 She bowed her head. 
 
 " But how is it," I asked, " that you discovered 
 that you are spirits and we mortal men ? " 
 
 " There are so few of us who think of such 
 things," she answered, " so few who study, ponder, 
 and reflect. I am fond of study, and I love 
 philosophy ; and from the reading of many books 
 I have learned much. From the book which I 
 have here I have learned most ; and from its 
 teachings I have gradually come to the belief, 
 which you tell me is the true one, that we are 
 spirits and you men." 
 
 " And what book is that ? " I asked. 
 
 " It is The Philosophy of Relative Existences, 
 by Rupert Vance." 
 
RELATIVE EXISTENCES. 187 
 
 " Ye gods ! " I exclaimed, springing upon the 
 balcony, "that is my book, and I am Rupert 
 Vance." I stepped toward the volume to seize it, 
 but she raised her hand. 
 
 " You cannot touch it," she said. " It is the 
 ghost of a book. And did you write it ? " 
 
 "Write it? No," I said ; " I am writing it. It 
 is not yet finished." 
 
 " But here it is," she said, turning over the last 
 pages. " As a spirit book it is finished. It is very 
 successful ; it is held in high estimation by intelli 
 gent thinkers ; it is a standard work." 
 
 I stood trembling with emotion. " High esti 
 mation ! " I said. " A standard work ! " 
 
 " Oh, yes," she replied, with animation ; " and it 
 well deserves its great success, especially in its 
 conclusion. I have read it twice." 
 
 " But let me see these concluding pages," I 
 exclaimed. " Let me look upon what I am to 
 write." 
 
 She smiled, and shook her head, and closed the 
 book. " I would like to do that," she said, "but if 
 you are really a man you must not know what you 
 arc going to do." 
 
1 88 THE PHILOSOPHY OF 
 
 " Oh, tell me, tell me," cried Bentley from below, 
 " do you know a book called Stellar Studies, by 
 Arthur Bentley ? It is a book of poems." 
 
 The figure gazed at him. " No," it said pre 
 sently ; " I never heard of it." 
 
 I stood trembling. Had the youthful figure 
 before me been flesh and blood, had the book been 
 a real one, I would have torn it from her. 
 
 " O wise and lovely being ! " I exclaimed, falling 
 on my knees before her, " be also benign and 
 generous. Let me but see the last page of my 
 book. If I have been of benefit to your world ; 
 more than all, if I have been of benefit to you, let 
 me see, I implore you let me see how it is that I 
 have done it." 
 
 She rose with the book in her hand. " You 
 have only to wait until you have done it," she said, 
 and then you will know all that you could see 
 here." I started to my feet, and stood alone upon 
 the balcony. 
 
 " I AM sorry," said Bentley, as we walked toward 
 the pier where we had left our boat, "that we 
 talked only to that ghost girl, and that the other 
 
RELATIVE EXISTENCES. 189 
 
 spirits were all afraid of us. Persons whose souls 
 are choked up with philosophy are not apt to care 
 much for poetry ; and even if my book is to be 
 widely known, it is easy to see that she may not 
 have heard of it." 
 
 I walked triumphant. The moon, almost 
 touching the horizon, beamed like red gold. " My 
 dear friend," said I, v I have always told you that 
 you should put more philosophy into your poetry. 
 That would make it live." 
 
 " And I have always told you," said he, " that 
 you should not put so much poetry into your 
 philosophy. It misleads people." 
 
 " It didn t mislead that ghost girl," said I. 
 
 " How do you know ? " said he. " Perhaps she 
 is wrong, and the other inhabitants of the city are 
 right, and we may be the ghosts after all. Such 
 things, you know, are only relative. Anyway," he 
 continued, after a little pause, " I wish I knew that 
 those ghosts were now reading the poem I am 
 going to begin to-morrow." 
 
THE KNIFE THAT KILLED FO 
 HANCY. 
 
 HANCY was the chief of a band of Da- 
 coit robbers, those outlaws who for years 
 have ravished portions of British Burmah, killing, 
 stealing, and burning, and regarding not whether 
 the sufferers were their own people or white- 
 skinned foreigners. Prominent among these mid 
 night assassins and robbers was Po Hancy. But he 
 came to his just reward at last, being trapped and 
 killed by two native spies, and the knife by which 
 his head was severed from his body lay on my library 
 table. It had been sent to me by a missionary 
 friend to whom it had been brought as a trophy of 
 the superior valour of the loyal and somewhat 
 civilised natives over that of the outlaws of the 
 jungle. It was a rude weapon, with a heavy blade 
 nearly nine inches long, enclosed in a wooden 
 
THE KNIFE THAI KILLED PO HANCY. 191 
 
 sheath, and with a beautifully polished handle ot 
 bone-like wood. On the point of the blade and on 
 its sides were great blotches of rust, caused by the 
 blood of Po Hancy. 
 
 This formidable weapon, with its history, was 
 very interesting to me. I could sympathise with 
 the joyful satisfaction with which the little band of 
 missionaries had looked upon the knife as a blessed 
 sleep-giver, an assurance that they no longer lie 
 awake on account of rumours of the approach of 
 that bloodthirsty and inconvertible heathen and 
 his band. 
 
 More than that, it had another interest for me. 
 It made me think of the man who had come to his 
 death by it. The idea struck me that Po Hancy 
 and I were as different from each other as two 
 human beings could possibly be. To arrange our 
 differences in a tabulated statement would be a 
 work of a good deal of time and very little value, 
 but there was one dissimilarity between us that 
 particularly impressed itself upon me. I had heard 
 a good deal of this tiger-like Dacoit, crawling 
 through the jungles for ten, fifteen, or twenty miles, 
 leaping down rocks with foothold as silent and 
 
192 THE KNIFE THAT KILLED PO HANCY. 
 
 certain as that of a cat, and bounding upon his 
 victims with a strength and swiftness of an untiring 
 beast of prey. 
 
 How different was I a languid, soft-fleshed, 
 almost middle-aged lawyer, tired out by sedentary 
 work by night and by day, to whom a walk of 
 half-a-mile was weariness, and a climb to my office 
 on the fifth floor of a lofty building was a backache. 
 As a young man I had been somewhat athletic, 
 but years of too much work of one kind, and too 
 little of another, had made activity a memory, and 
 wholesome exercise a discomfort. Po Hancy was 
 a specimen of perfect animal life, and of the most 
 imperfect life of the mind and soul. My body 
 resembled his mind and soul ; of my mind and 
 soul I will say nothing, being of a modest dis 
 position. 
 
 Po Hancy was gone, utterly departed and anni 
 hilated with the exception of the atoms of dried 
 blood which might yet remain in the blotches of 
 rust upon this ugly knife-blade. Strangely enough, 
 it was possible that something which helped to 
 make up that fierce Dacoit, some portions, minute 
 though they might be, of his very self, might lie here 
 
THE KNIFE THAT KILLED PO HAXCY. 193 
 
 before me in my library, by my prayer book, and a 
 recent letter from my mother in a home of high 
 civilisation on the other side the world from the 
 Burmese jungle. 
 
 As I sat thinking of these things I took out my 
 pocket-knife, and began to scratch the spots of rust 
 upon the blade, and succeeding in detaching a little 
 of the fine dust from the iron, oxidised by means 
 of Po Hancy s life currents. There was so little of 
 it, that I had to moisten the end of my knife-blade 
 in order to take it up, and carefully look at it. 
 Of course to the eye it was like any other iron 
 rust, but to my mind it was far different. If there 
 really were still atoms of blood on it, it was all, or 
 nearly all, that remained above earth of the 
 famous Fo Hancy. 
 
 Involuntarily I balanced my penknife on my 
 finger, as if to weigh this infinitesimal remnant of 
 savage mortality, when suddenly the knife slipped, 
 and, in endeavouring to catch it, the point ran into 
 the thumb of my left hand, inflicting a slight 
 wound. For a moment I was frightened. Here 
 was an example of the folly of playing with edged 
 tools, especially those that had belonged to savage 
 
194 THE KNIFE THAT KILLED PO HANCY. 
 
 heathens. This knife of the slayer of the Dacoit 
 might have been poisoned, and here I had wounded 
 myself with the point of my own knife, to which 
 adhered the dust I had scraped from it. It was 
 horrible to think that in a few hours I might perish 
 by the same knife that slew that ferocious murderer. 
 
 After a time, however, I calmed myself, for I 
 had never heard that the Burmese used poisoned 
 weapons, and when several days had passed with 
 out my having felt any evil effects from the wound, 
 which soon healed, I felt perfectly safe. In fact, 
 instead of there being any injurious result from the cut 
 (or the not inconsiderable nervous shock consequent 
 upon it), I found myself in better health than usual, 
 and one afternoon I walked across the Common, 
 through the Public Garden, and four or five blocks 
 beyond, to my home, and did not feel the least 
 fatigue. I had had no experience of this kind for 
 two or three years. 
 
 During the next few weeks, many of my friends 
 remarked that my health was certainly improving, 
 and there could be no doubt that they were correct. 
 I began to take walks that were moderately long. 
 I played billiards, that used to tire me so much 
 
THE KNIFE THAT KILLED PO HANCY. 195 
 
 that I seldom played a whole game. And what 
 surprised everybody, and myself quite as much, I 
 joined an athletic club. This numbered among its 
 members a dozen or more of my friends, nearly all 
 of whom, at one time or another, had pressed me 
 to join the club, assuring me that it was the best 
 thing I could do, if I wished to regain my old 
 strength and activity, but I had always refused. 
 The very idea of gymnastic exercise was disagree 
 able to me, and I was annoyed at their persistence 
 in advising it. 
 
 Now they were astonished at my change of 
 opinion, and some of them were inclined to ridicule 
 me, suggesting some very easy and mild methods 
 of exercise suitable for a small boy beginner. But 
 they stopped that sort of chaff when I raised a 
 vaulting bar several inches higher than the last 
 performer had left it, and then went over it without 
 touching, and when, seizing a trapeze bar, I drew 
 up my body, and threw myself around it with the 
 ease of a circus man, some of them remembered 
 that I used to do that sort of thing, but that I 
 could return to it now, after all these years of desk 
 work, amazed them. 
 
 O 2 
 
196 THE KNIFE THA T KILLED PO HANCY. 
 
 I kept up my gymnastic exercises nearly every 
 day, and as the club was to give a public exhibition 
 early in the autumn, I felt inclined to take part in 
 it. All my love for athletic sport had returned. 
 But, in spite of my undoubted activity, there were a 
 good many men in the club who were greatly my 
 superiors in athletic feats, and there was no reason 
 to suppose that I would achieve any especial dis 
 tinction in the public games. The conviction of 
 this somewhat dampened my desire to become a 
 contestant on so important an occasion, and I sat 
 down one evening to consider the matter. " In 
 the first place," I said to myself, " how did I regain 
 all my old strength and activity? I have not 
 altered my method of living, my diet is the same, 
 I have had no change of air." At this moment 
 my eye fell on the knife that killed Po Hancy, 
 which still lay upon my table. " By George ! " I 
 exclaimed, springing to my feet, " could it have 
 been that ? " 
 
 My face flushed and my whole form glowed as I 
 remembered how I had fancied I had poisoned 
 myself by introducing into my veins the stuff I 
 had scraped from the Burmese knife. And now, 
 
THE KNIFE THAT KILLED PO HANCY. 197 
 
 could it be? Was it by any means possible that I 
 had accidentally inoculated myself with some of 
 the blood of Po Hancy, and in so doing had intro 
 duced into my system some of his savage vigour 
 and agility ! 
 
 The more I thought of this the more strongly I 
 became convinced that it was so. I am a scientist 
 in an amateur way, and I take a great interest in 
 experiments such as those performed by Brown- 
 Sequard and Dr. Koch. If certain physical at 
 tributes of one class of living beings could be 
 communicated to another by inoculation or hyper- 
 dermic injection, why should not another physical 
 attribute be transmitted in the same way? I could 
 see no reason why this should not be so, and, in 
 fact, I believed myself a proof that the thing could 
 be done. 
 
 Now, if I possessed some of the high physical 
 qualities of the defunct Po Hancy, why should I 
 not possess them to a greater degree ? What he 
 had in perfection was what I lacked. If I could 
 get what he no longer needed, and what, indeed, I 
 would gladly have deprived him of, whether I had 
 been able to get it or not, why should I not have it? 
 
198 THE KNIFE THAT KILLED PO HANCY. 
 
 There was really nothing to object to in this propo 
 sition, and I determined to make an experiment. 
 
 Rubbing some glycerine over the blood spots 
 upon the Dacoit knife, I scraped vigorously until I 
 accumulated a little mass of the gummy substance. 
 Then baring my left arm, and excoriating a little 
 spot on it, as if I were about to vaccinate myself, 
 I rubbed in the compound. " Now," said I, wrap 
 ping a handkerchief around my arm, "we shall see 
 what we shall see." 
 
 The next morning, our waitress, who was just 
 entering the breakfast-room, saw what she did see. 
 She saw me come in at another door, look at the 
 table set ready for the family breakfast with a large 
 bouquet, a foot and a half high, in the centre of 
 the table, run a few steps, and then bound entirely 
 over said table, bouquet and all, and come down 
 upon the other side with an elastic thud as if I had 
 been made of india-rubber. She screamed, and 
 although I had not touched anything, stood ex 
 pecting a crash. 
 
 " Merciful me, sir," she exclaimed, when she 
 found nothing was about to happen, " I never did 
 see anybody so supple." 
 
THE KNIFE THAJ* KILLED PO HANCY. 199 
 
 When my two sisters came down with me they 
 made up the family, for my mother was in Europe 
 I had to tell them about this jump, for I did not 
 want the girl to do it. 
 
 " I have noticed, Harry," said Amelia, " that you 
 have changed very much of late. You are as 
 springy as a jack-in-a-box, and you used to be so 
 pokey and stiff. I think you ought not to do that 
 sort of thing in the house. Suppose you had swept 
 everything off this table, what a lot of damage you 
 would have done. And I have had to have the 
 stair-carpet stretched and replaced because you 
 will persist in going up three steps at a time, and 
 getting it all out of shape." 
 
 " I am very glad that Harry is feeling so strong 
 and well," said Jenny, " and I am going to teach 
 him to play tennis." 
 
 I laughed internally as I thought of a man with 
 my nimble power playing a baby game like tennis. 
 
 The inoculation with the blood of Fo Hancy 
 was undoubtedly a success. I could feel strength 
 and vigour bounding through my veins ; without 
 hesitation I announced myself as a candidate for 
 athletic honours in the approaching games. 
 
200 THE KNIFE THAT KILLED PQ HANCY. 
 
 I will not here relate the feats I performed on 
 the great field of our club. In contests of hurling, 
 lifting, and all that I took no part, but in running, 
 jumping, vaulting, bounding, I excelled all com 
 petitors and broke several records. Had Po 
 Hancy been in my place he might have done 
 better, but without the influence of Po Hancy s 
 wild blood no one on the grounds could have 
 done as well. This is what I said to myself as 
 the crowd roared out its applause, and my friends 
 gathered around me to shake my hand. 
 
 Not only was my whole habit of life changed, 
 but the changes went on. I was not content to be 
 able to bound like a tiger, and run like a deer, but 
 I wanted to do these things. Several times when 
 coming home from my office in the evening I was 
 stopped by policemen, who wanted to know what 
 I was running away from. I had some difficulty 
 in persuading them that I ran purely from a love 
 of exercise, and they advised against such speed 
 in the public streets. Late at night I used to 
 have grand runs on the Common, but this did not 
 suit me very well. There were sometimes ob 
 servers, and the place was too open. I liked better 
 
THE KNIFE THAT KILLED PO HANCY. 201 
 
 the public gardens, which afterwards became my 
 nightly exercise ground. 
 
 With a pair of soft tennis-shoes on my feet, it 
 was my delight to steal swiftly around masses of 
 shrubbery, dart up avenues, slip before the eyes of 
 astonished policemen, and vanish into the shade, 
 to bound into the branches of some heavily-foliaged 
 tree and watch the guardian of the peace stalking 
 below me, and then when he had passed to drop 
 noiselessly down, to track him over the whole of his 
 beat, without his suspecting that my soft falling 
 footsteps followed his. 
 
 I did not pay much attention to my business, as 
 had been my custom, and I indulged in exercise 
 and long walks even in the day-time, when I 
 should have been at my office. I felt a great desire 
 to hunt ; I do not mean to follow the hounds in 
 their courses about the Boston suburbs, but to 
 tramp through the wild woods and kill things with 
 a rifle. As there was little scope for this sort of 
 sport in the coast country of Massachusetts, I 
 wanted to take a trip to the lower part of Florida, 
 for it was too late in the season to go far west. In 
 the forest down there I was sure I could still find 
 
202 THE KNIFE THAT KILLED PO HANCY. 
 
 wild game, and if a wandering Seminole Indian 
 happened to interfere with me, or a reckless alli 
 gator hunter picked a quarrel with me, I felt that 
 I would be very well able to take care of myself. 
 
 My law partners, however, objected very strongly 
 to my leaving town in the midst of our busiest 
 season, and I was obliged to postpone rny con 
 templated trip. One of the members of our firm 
 jocosely remarked to me that so far as business 
 was concerned I was a better man when I was 
 not so well. And my sisters, who used to object 
 to walking with me because I was so much given 
 to going slowly and stopping often, now declined 
 to accompany me because I strode so rapidly that 
 it tired them to keep up with me. In fact, in the 
 whole of Boston I did not know anyone who shared 
 my fancies for what might be called super-exercise, 
 and I was obliged to be content with my own 
 company in my morning bounces and my evening 
 spins. 
 
 But it must not be supposed that I lost at this 
 time my desire for companionship ; in truth a 
 novel desire of that sort sprung up within me. A 
 distant relative of my mother, who had always 
 
THE KNIFE THAT KILLED PO HANCY. 203 
 
 been accustomed to spend some weeks with us in 
 the autumn, now came to make her annual visit. 
 This was a lady of thirty or thereabouts, by the 
 name of Susan Mooney. She was the kindest, 
 gentlest, quietest, softest woman in the world. 
 Her disposition was so tender that if one spoke 
 to her of trouble or pain the tears would almost 
 always come into her eyes. 
 
 My sisters were sorry that Susan had made her 
 visit this year during the absence of our mother, 
 for although they liked her and loved her, they did 
 not find her a congenial companion. They were 
 lively girls, fond of society, while she was the 
 quietest of the quiet, and fond of home. Conse 
 quently they were well pleased when they found 
 that I seemed to fancy Susan s company, for that 
 relieved them of the burden. But after a week or 
 two, their feelings changed, and they told me they 
 thought I was giving entirely too much of my time 
 to Susan. My family had come to look upon me 
 as a bachelor who would never think of marrying, 
 and it would have surprised them to see me pay 
 ing marked attention to any lady. But when my 
 sisters saw me paying attention so very marked 
 
20 4 THE KNIFE THAT KILLED PO HANCY. 
 
 indeed to Susan Mooney, they were not only 
 surprised but offended. 
 
 "If you are going to marry anybody," said 
 Amelia, " do take someone who is suitable for 
 you. Mother is very fond of Susan, and we like 
 her, but she would never do for a wife for you. 
 She is nothing but a bag of milk." 
 
 I looked at them and smiled. It was true that 
 I had taken Susan to the theatre or concerts, 
 evening after evening, although I had been in the 
 habit of declining to go to such places with my 
 sisters ; that I made her take long walks with me : 
 that I spent hours with her when I should have 
 been in my office, and that lately she had been 
 seen to flush a little when I came into the room 
 where she was. 
 
 " Susan Mooney," said I, " is exactly the kind 
 of girl or lady that I like. She is so gentle, so 
 
 docile, so submissive, that " 
 
 " Submissive ! " snapped Jenny, i( I should think 
 so. She has not the least bit of will of her own. 
 You would become a perfect tyrant with a wife 
 like that. I believe she would grow to tremble 
 when she heard your footstep." 
 
FHE KNIFE THAJ^ KILLED PO HANCY. 205 
 
 " I do not say," I answered, " that I am going to 
 marry Susan, nor that I am going to marry any 
 body, but if I ever do take a wife, I want one who 
 will tremble when she hears my footstep." 
 
 They both laughed. " For a mild-mannered 
 man," cried Amelia, " you talk bigger than anyone 
 I ever heard. The idea that anyone could ever 
 tremble at your footstep is ridiculous." 
 
 I made no answer. It was well that they could 
 not analyze the blood that now ran in my veins. 
 To me Susan Mooney was attractive to a degree 
 that no other woman had been. I would not 
 cease my attentions to her, but, perhaps, since my 
 sisters seemed so observant, I would be more wary 
 about them. 
 
 I had used to be somewhat of a submissive 
 person myself, but I was such no longer. I did 
 not always state my determination to do things 
 against the opinions and wishes of others, but the 
 determination was never altered. I grew to like 
 to put myself in opposition, especially if the other 
 party did not know how I stood. This, I flattered 
 myself, might be a good thing for a lawyer, but it 
 was very different from my old methods of thought 
 
206 THE KNIFE THAT KILLED PO HANCY. 
 
 and action. I also felt occasional desires to put 
 myself in physical opposition to someone. I did 
 not feel quarrelsome, but if I had seen a reason 
 able opportunity of obtruding my physical superi 
 ority on a fellow being, I should have been glad to 
 avail myself of it. Civilised society does not offer 
 chances of this sort sufficiently often to satisfy Po 
 Hanic cravings. 
 
 One evening as I was sitting in my library and 
 study on the third floor, I heard a slight noise 
 downstairs, as if from the opening of a door. I 
 knew that the rest of the family had all retired, and 
 I naturally thought that a burglar was trying to 
 enter the house. The moment this idea came 
 into my mind, my whole body thrilled with a warm 
 ecstasy. I slipped off my shoes, and stole to the 
 top of the stairs and listened I heard the noise 
 again ! Darting back into my room, I buttoned 
 my dark coat tight round my neck to conceal my 
 white collar, and then, seizing the knife that killed 
 Po Hancy, I silently glided down the stairway. 
 My eyes must have glistened with the expectant 
 joy of meeting a burglar. What transporting 
 delight it would be to steal upon the rascal and 
 
THE KNIFE THAT KILLED PO HANCY. 207 
 
 slay him with one blow. It is so seldom that one 
 gets an opportunity to legitimately slay a rascal 
 or, indeed, anyone. I do not say that I could 
 have decoyed a burglar into the house for the pur 
 pose of slaying him, but if one were really here of 
 his own accord, how gladly would I exercise my 
 legal rights. 
 
 Down the stairs I went, bending low, with eyes 
 peering into the dark, with ears stretched to catch 
 the slightest sound, and with the knife that killed 
 Po Hancy half raised in my right hand. I went 
 through all the rooms on the first floor, I descended 
 into the cellar, feeling my way about in the dark 
 ness, and stopping at intervals to listen. I even 
 penetrated to the back of the coal bin, and I 
 remember thinking with pride how I stepped so 
 carefully as to scarcely disturb the coals that were 
 piled about me. 
 
 Suddenly I heard the same noise that I had 
 noticed before. It was above me, and with a 
 quick and silent bound I was at the top of the 
 cellar stairs. Here I found what had made the 
 noise ; it was a door at this spot which had been 
 left open. I noticed that it was not fastened when 
 
208 THE KNIFE THAT KILLED PO HANCY. 
 
 I came down, but thought nothing of it. A venti 
 lating window was near by, and when a puff of 
 wind came into this window the door was opened 
 a little way and then slowly swung back of its own 
 inclination. 
 
 When I discovered the facts of the case I could 
 almost have cried. I felt that I had sustained a 
 cruel disappointment. Chagrined and depressed, 
 I walked slowly into the dining-room and sat 
 down, debating with myself whether or not I 
 would care to put on my hat and take a long 
 night run. While sitting thus I heard someone 
 coming down the stairs with slow and deliberate 
 footsteps. I knew those footsteps ; they were 
 those of Mary Carpenter, our good old house 
 keeper. Ashamed that she should find me sitting 
 in the dark, I got up and began to look for 
 matches, but before I found them she entered, 
 carrying a lighted candle. 
 
 " Mercy on me, Mr. Harry ! " she exclaimed, 
 " what on earth are you doing here in the dark ? I 
 just remembered that I did not fasten the top cellar 
 door, and I came down to do it. Are you sick?" 
 
 " No," I answered ; " I am hungry, and I came 
 
THE KNIFE THA T KILLED PO HANCY. 209 
 
 down to get some pie. I was just going to strike 
 a light." 
 
 " Well, well ! " exclaimed the good Mary, " that 
 
 is just like you, Mr. Harry. When you were a 
 
 boy, and even a young man, you were always 
 
 wanting to eat pie at night, and there were some 
 
 that said that you would have had better health if 
 
 you had not done so much of it. But for my part, 
 
 I can t see any harm in eating good wholesome 
 
 pie, when a body feels hungry for it. I have not 
 
 heard you say you wanted some pie for a long 
 
 while, and it seems like good old times to give you 
 
 some after everybody else is in bed. Now, it is 
 
 lucky that I made to-day with my own hands the 
 
 first pumpkin pies of the season. I ll get one and 
 
 cut you a piece. Goodness gracious, Mr. Harry ! 
 
 you didn t mean to cut one of my pies with that 
 
 horrible knife, did you? If you did I am truly 
 
 glad that I came down in time to stop you. A 
 
 heathen knife in a Christian pie is something I 
 
 never heard of yet, and I hope never to. It would 
 
 poison it." 
 
 In a few minutes the good Mary placed before 
 me a noble specimen of her pastry cooking. 
 
210 THE KNIFE THAT KILLED PO HANCY. 
 
 " There," said she, " is a pumpkin pic fit for a 
 king, only kings never get them ; and I suppose 
 they would call it a pudding in England, if they 
 had it at all. It s a good inch and a half thick, 
 the way you always liked them, and I am sure a 
 piece of it will not hurt you." 
 
 She cut a generous segment of the pie and gave 
 it to me on a plate. She was delighted to see 
 with what pleasure I ate it, and when I asked for 
 another piece she was surprised, but gave it to me. 
 
 When I asked for a third piece she demurred a 
 little, but in spite of her really earnest protesta 
 tions I helped myself to more, and eventually 
 finished the whole pie, which was of a size suf 
 ficient for an ordinary family. 
 
 " Well, well," said Mary, as she took away my 
 plate and the empty pie-dish, " this beats anything 
 you ever did when you were a boy. I only hope 
 that you won t feel badly in the night ; but if you 
 do, come to my door and knock. It won t take 
 me a minute to mix some peppermint for you, or 
 give you anything else you need." 
 
 I did not wonder that the good Mary was 
 astonished at the midnight appetite of a Po 
 
THE KNIFE THAT KILLED PO HANCY. 211 
 
 Hancy. I began to fear, however, that I had 
 been imprudent in letting this appetite run away 
 with me, and felt very glad that there was some 
 one in the house who knew what to do for victims 
 of unreasonable voracity. However, there was no 
 occasion for her services, for I went to bed and 
 slept the sleep of an infant. In the morning when 
 I awoke, fresh and clear-headed, with a wholesome 
 appetite for my breakfast, I felt what it was to 
 possess the digestion of a Dacoit. 
 
 The wonderful physical powers with which I 
 felt myself endowed were sources of the greatest 
 satisfaction to me ; but they began to have their 
 drawbacks, and after a time they caused me great 
 mental uneasiness. Because I knew myself per 
 fectly able to do certain things which I ought not 
 to do, I wished to do them. For instance, there 
 was a stout man of German Jewish aspect, who, 
 before my Po Hanic days, had been in the habit 
 of going home from his business about the same 
 time that I did, and frequently took the street car 
 in which I was riding. This man, if it were 
 possible, always seated himself next to me, think 
 ing, I imagined, that as I was rather a slender 
 
 P 2 
 
212 THE KNIFE THAT KILLED PO HANCY. 
 
 man, he would have a better chance of crowding 
 me, and getting more than his share of room in 
 case the car became full. And when this oppor 
 tunity was afforded him he always availed himself 
 of it to the utmost. I sometimes remonstrated 
 with him, and sometimes tried to crowd him a 
 little, but neither course was of any service, and it 
 not unfrequently happened that I got up and 
 stood on the platform to avoid this unsavoury 
 persecutor. 
 
 As I now thought of this man, my blood boiled 
 within me. I did not, at this time, ride in street 
 cars, for I felt no need of them, but I felt greatly 
 tempted to get into one at the hour I usually left 
 my office, in the hope that the stout man would 
 enter and sit beside me. If this should happen 
 and he should dare to push or elbow me, I would 
 spring upon him and hurl him out of the door of 
 the car, no matter how rapidly it might be moving. 
 I ground my teeth in savage anticipation of the joy 
 I would take in thus avenging myself for all his 
 former insults. But my common sense and my 
 familiarity with the common law showed me that 
 this would be a very foolish thing to do, certain to 
 
THE KNIFE THAT KILLED PO HANCY. 213 
 
 bring me into trouble, and even ridicule, which 
 would be worse. My uncivilised instincts were so 
 strong that frequently I was obliged, figuratively, 
 to put my hand upon my own shoulder to prevent 
 myself from entering a car in which there was a 
 chance of encountering the stout German. 
 
 There were other novel and perhaps aboriginal 
 cravings which came upon me at this time. One 
 of these was an abnormal longing to possess desir 
 able objects. For instance, in a jeweller s window 
 which I frequently passed, there was a handsome 
 brooch which attracted my favourable attention. 
 It was composed of a large stone of the moonstone 
 order, artissically surrounded by brilliants. It 
 struck me that this would be a most appropriate 
 ornament for the gentle Susan, and several times 
 I stood looking at it and planning how I might get 
 it for her, without resort to the usual methods of 
 exchange. A strong tap on the window pane, a 
 quick snatch, and then a series of dartings and 
 doublings, along a route which I had marked out 
 in my mind, around a corner, up an alley, over 
 the fences of two back yards that I had noted, into 
 a small street, where I would change my soft, 
 
2i 4 THE KNIFE THAT KILLED PO HANCY. 
 
 light coloured felt hat for a dark travelling cap 
 which I would have in my pocket. Then a rush 
 into a crowded thoroughfare, and a leisurely walk 
 home. But this scheme did not altogether please 
 me ; I would have better liked, in the dark hours of 
 the morning, to climb a tree which stood before the 
 jeweller s shop, to go out on a limb until it bent 
 down to the level of the transom window over the 
 top of the door, to open this, slip in, pocket the 
 brooch, climb up to the transom, listen, drop out 
 side, and noiselessly glide away. 
 
 I had entirely too many fancies of this kind, and 
 when away from my temptations, my mind was 
 seriously troubled by the thoughts of the dangers 
 to which I was exposed ; this robber blood was 
 making a different man of me, a man who ran the 
 risk of ending his life in a prison. I used to 
 ponder for hours upon my alarming condition. 
 Sometimes I thought of myself as another Mr. 
 Hyde, but alas ! my case was worse than that. I 
 was not sometimes good, and sometimes bad ; I 
 was under an influence which was steadfast and of 
 increasing power, the effects of which, my reason 
 told me, must be permanent. When a Christian 
 
THE KNIFE THA T KILLED PO HA /YC Y. 215 
 
 gentleman puts Dacoit blood into his veins there is 
 no way of his getting it out again, except by letting 
 out all of his blood, a remedy I did not fancy. 
 How earnestly I wished Po Hancy had been con 
 verted before he had been killed. 
 
 But had the robber chief repented and lived a 
 proper life, he would not have been killed, and I 
 would have had no knife with his blood on it, and 
 my present physical perfection would never have 
 come to me. When I looked upon the matter in 
 this light I asked myself whether I would have 
 been satisfied had it been so, and I could not bring 
 myself to answer " yes." After all it was my vanity 
 that had brought this terrible peril upon me. Had 
 I been contented with the little prick my knife had 
 given me I might have been no more than the 
 active, healthy gentleman I had always wished to 
 be. But that foolish desire to shine in the athletic 
 games had not only given me an excess of strength, 
 but also the impulses of a jungle sneak. 
 
 When troubled thus, my greatest relief was the 
 society of Susan Mooney. The flow of her gentle 
 soul was so unrippled that it seldom failed to 
 soothe me. Feeling the great good she was to me 
 
2i6 THE KNIFE THA T KILLED PO HANCY. 
 
 I now made up my mind to marry her, and it 
 delighted me to think that in doing so I would not 
 be troubled by the ordinary antecedents of matri 
 mony. I would simply inform her that she was to 
 be my wife, then all she would have to do was to 
 set herself to the task of getting ready for the cere 
 mony. But I could not always avail myself of the 
 soothings of Susan, and the agitation of my mind 
 became more harassing and frequent. 
 
 Early one evening I was sitting alone in my 
 study, torn by a desire to take a long walk in the 
 suburbs, and restrained by a fear that if I did so I 
 should be induced to forget that I was not a 
 prowling Dacoit. Suddenly I heard a cry below 
 stairs ; it was the voice of my dear Susan, in terror 
 and pain. In ten seconds I had bounded down to 
 the drawing-room, where, between my two sisters I 
 found the fair Susan almost fainting, with one of 
 her white hands reddened with her blood, and in 
 her lap the knife that killed Fo Hancy. The 
 situation quickly explained ; that afternoon Jenny 
 had brought down the knife to show a visitor 
 interested in such things, and now Susan had been 
 playing with it and had cut her finger ! 
 
THE KNIFE THAT KILLED PO HANCY. 217 
 
 The wound was not a serious one, and the 
 sufferer was soon cared for and conducted to her 
 room. I took the knife upstairs, determined to 
 lock it up securely. But as I was about to replace 
 it in its sheath I noticed that the blade was dis 
 coloured in several places with fresh blood the 
 blood of Susan still moist. 
 
 I sat for some ten minutes earnestly gazing upon 
 the knife-blade. What a contrast the blood of Po 
 Hancy, the blood of Susan Mooney. As I pon 
 dered, a thought, seemingly filled with the light of 
 salvation, dawned upon me. I bared my right arm, 
 and with my penknife scratched the skin for the 
 space of over an inch in diameter. On this I 
 rubbed the moist blood of Susan, as much of it as 
 I could get from the great knife-blade, and which 
 exceeded in quantity that which I had obtained 
 from the rust spots. I trembled when this deed 
 was finished, I did not dare to think what might 
 happen, but I hoped. 
 
 The. next day my right arm was very sore and I 
 could not write. I felt sure that no one with 
 Dacoit blood in his veins should be allowed to 
 perform an operation of the nature of vaccination. 
 
2i8 THE KNIFE THAT KILLED PO HANCY. 
 
 As my disability, the cause of which I did not 
 explain to anyone, gave a reason for a little vaca 
 tion, I went off to the Berkshire hills. The gay 
 season of Stockbridge and Lennox had not yet 
 come to an end, and the life there interested me 
 very much. It was a pleasant change ; for 
 years I had mingled very little in fashionable 
 society. I met a good many friends and acquaint 
 ances, all glad to have me with them, but surprised 
 as well as pleased at my willingness to enter into all 
 the festive doings of the region. In fact, I agreed to 
 whatever was proposed to me, except when two of 
 my fellow members of the athletic club asked me 
 to join them in a long tramp. This I declined, 
 mainly for the reason that they had planned to 
 start very early in the morning, before sunrise, and 
 I would not give up the delightful and tranquillising 
 hours of sleep which immediately precede a late 
 breakfast. 
 
 At the close of the day after my return I rode 
 home from my office in a street car. At the 
 corner where I had been in the habit of expecting 
 him, the stout German got in. There was an 
 empty place next to me, large enough for an or- 
 
THE KNIFE THAT KILLED PO HAA CY. 219 
 
 dinary person, but not large enough for him. He 
 came directly toward me and endeavoured to 
 squeeze himself into the vacancy. As he did so I 
 moved as far as possible away from him, in order 
 to give him the room he desired. 
 
 That evening my sister Amelia took me aside. 
 " Harry," said she, " I have something very serious to 
 say to you. Susan has had a letter from mother 
 begging her to stay here until her return. Now, 
 this will keep her with us a month longer at least, 
 and I think this is a very deplorable thing." 
 
 "Why so?" I asked. 
 
 " Because it will give you an opportunity to 
 carry on your absurd courtship of her, and that 
 cannot fail to end in your marrying her, and I 
 should like to know, Harry, what could be more de 
 plorable than that ? In fact, Jenny and I have 
 made up our minds that we will not stand it. 
 Mother may consent to live in the house with that 
 simple Susan as your wife, but we never will. 
 
 " My dear sister," said I, " you and Jenny need 
 not trouble yourselves on that subject. I do not 
 in the least desire to marry Susan Mooney. She 
 is a good woman, very good, but she is not the 
 
220 THE KNIFE THAT KILLED PO HANCY. 
 
 sort of person I would want for a wife. I should 
 think you could see that for yourselves. The life 
 of a hard-working man like myself is monotonous 
 enough without Susan. But now that you have 
 spoken of marriage I will say that I met two 
 ladies, one in Stockbridge and the other at Lennox, 
 either of which would make me a good wife. I 
 rather prefer the Lennox girl, Miss Camilla Sun- 
 derland. Do you know her ? " 
 
 " Camilla Sunderland ! " exclaimed my sister. 
 " She is a leading belle, a dazzling star of the 
 season. She goes everywhere, does everything, 
 driving four-in-hand, plays tennis matches, is devo 
 ted to balls, theatre parties why, my dear Harry, I 
 should think you could not exist with a wife like 
 that." 
 
 " Miss Sunderland," said Cleaning back in a soft 
 armchair, " would be just the wife I dream of. I 
 am sure I prefer her to the lady at Stockbridge. I 
 am not disposed, as you know, to take part to any 
 great extent in the exciting life of the fashionable 
 world, but I should wish to feel that through my 
 wife I had a part in it." 
 
 " Well ! " exclaimed Amelia, " you may never 
 
THE KNIFE THAT KILLED PO HANCY. 221 
 
 get Camilla* Sunderland, but I am truly glad that 
 you have given up all thoughts of Susan. But, 
 Harry, a very great change must have come over 
 you ; it was not long ago that you told me you 
 wanted a wife who would tremble at your tread." 
 
 I made a gesture of languid disapprobation. 
 " Dear girl," said I, "I should despise a woman who 
 would tremble at my tread." 
 
 I have not yet married Miss Sunderland, partly 
 because it is difficult for a man of my quiet and 
 slow turn of mind to follow and find her in the 
 mazes and intricacies of the fashionable life in 
 which she exists, and partly because my sisters 
 have succeeded in making me doubt her acceptance 
 of my addresses in case I should get the opportu 
 nity of offering them to her. But I want her, and 
 until she is married to somebody else, I shall con 
 tinue to hope. 
 
 As for the knife that killed Po Hancy, I threw 
 it into the Charles River. It was a dangerous 
 knife. 
 
THE REV. EZEKIEL CRUMP. 
 
 was one o clock on a bright October day, and 
 Mr. Nathan Rinkle had just sat down to 
 dinner, with Mrs. Nicely Lent on the other side of 
 the table. The day was warm for the season, and 
 Mr. Rinkle, having been very busy since early 
 morning, had a good appetite. But he had barely 
 made one deep cut into the leg of mutton before 
 him when the door opened, and a boy with an old 
 straw hat on his head came in. He hesitated for 
 a moment as if he thought he should make some 
 apology for breaking in upon the sanctity of the 
 dinner hour, and then he said : 
 
 " I ve just come to tell you that I think the 
 Rev rend Ezekiel Crump is dyin . He s all 
 doubled up." 
 
 " Gracious ! " exclaimed Mr. Rinkle, suddenly 
 pushing back his chair, " I must go out this 
 
THE REV. EZEKIEL CRUMP. 223 
 
 minute. It s the heat. I didn t count on its being 
 so extra warm to-day." And with this he clapped 
 on his hat and left the house. 
 
 " Oh, dear ! " exclaimed Mrs. Lent, as she gazed 
 at the table she had arranged with so much care, 
 " I suppose I might as well put these things by the 
 fire to keep em warm. There s no knowin when 
 he ll be back. I wish that boy Joe had kept away 
 until dinner was over. But I suppose it couldn t 
 be helped. It would never do to let the Rev. 
 Ezekiel die." 
 
 Nathan Rinkle was a florist, and the Rev. 
 Ezekiel Crump was a new and fine pelargonium 
 which had been originated by Mr. Rinkle himself, 
 and which he had named for the reverend gentle 
 man who had married his father and mother, and 
 baptised him. Mr. Rinkle had often said that this 
 good man s name would be given to the finest new 
 flower he should ever grow ; and as he did not 
 believe he should produce anything better than 
 this pelargonium, the name was given to it. 
 
 Nathan was a tall, slim, muscular bachelor of 
 about forty, industrious and devoted to his pro 
 fession, and a respected member of society in the 
 
224 THE REV. EZEKIEL CRUMP. 
 
 country region in which he lived. Mrs. Lent, a 
 well-nurtured lady, whose age hovered around 
 thirty-five, was the widow of Mr. Rinklc s former 
 partner. The house belonged to Mr. Rinkle, and 
 he, with Joshua Lent and his wife, lived in it very 
 pleasantly and profitably for five or six years. 
 When Joshua died three years ago this autumn, 
 Nathan was not the man to turn his widow out of 
 doors ; so Mrs. Lent, who now owned a certain 
 share in the business, remained as housekeeper and 
 general domestic manager. And, thus far, the 
 arrangement had been found pleasant and profit 
 able to all parties concerned. 
 
 It was half an hour before Mr. Rinkle returned 
 from the greenhouse, and as Mrs. Lent had seen 
 him coming, the dinner was again on the table 
 when he entered. 
 
 " It wasn t as bad as Joe thought it was," he 
 said, as he took his seat at the table, " but it was 
 bad enough. I think I have been too careful with 
 that plant, a little too careful. I ve been sparing 
 with the water on it. I didn t want it to bloom too 
 fast. I wanted the three sprays I left on it to be 
 absolutely perfect for the flower show to-morrow 
 
THE REV. EZEKIEL CRUMP. 225 
 
 and I was so busy this morning getting the other 
 things ready I didn t look at the Rev. Ezekiel, 
 and as he was in a pretty hot place for such a day, 
 and too dry about the roots, he began to wilt. But 
 I think he is all right now. I ve given him a good 
 soaking, and put him in the shade, and he began 
 to brighten up before I left him. I tell you, Mrs. 
 Lent, that gave me a real shock." 
 
 " As well it might," said the sympathetic 
 Nicely. 
 
 That afternoon Mrs. Lent went out to the green 
 houses to look at the wonderful new pelargonium. 
 She found the reverend gentleman fully restored to 
 health, strength, and beauty, and she felt quite 
 convinced that never had the eye of man rested 
 upon so grand and glorious a pelargonium. And, 
 furthermore, there could be no imaginable reason 
 to doubt that on the morrow Mr. Rinkle would 
 receive a first prize. 
 
 When Mr. Rinkle with his lantern came in from 
 the greenhouses that evening, he told Mrs. Lent 
 that he should go out several times during the 
 night to see if everything was all right ; and that 
 he should leave very early the next morning for 
 
 Q 
 
226 THE REV. E7EK1EL CRUMP. 
 
 the town, about ten miles away, w r hcre the flower 
 show was to be held. 
 
 " I m going to send Joe off with one waggon at 
 daylight, and then, as soon as I can get off, I shall 
 follow with the other, which won t be more than 
 half full ; so I am going to stop at the Widow 
 Sharp s and take along the plants she s got to 
 show, for she hasn t any way of getting them there 
 herself." 
 
 " Do you mean," asked Nicely, anxiously, " that 
 you are going before breakfast ? " 
 
 " Oh yes," said Nathan, " and as I ve got to stop 
 at the Widow Sharp s any way I ll breakfast there." 
 
 " And I suppose, of course, that you ll take the 
 Rev. Ezekiel with you ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, indeed," answered Nathan, " you may 
 be sure I will take charge of that plant. That 
 pelargonium is going to make a commotion at 
 the show, I can tell you. I ve got a lot of young 
 plants of it, but I didn t expect I d have one bloom 
 this year. This one is a little spindling, it is true, 
 but he s got three sprays of flowers which are finer 
 than anybody has ever yet seen on a pelargonium 
 plant." 
 
THE REV. EZEKIEL CRUMP. 227 
 
 " I m so glad you are able to exhibit it so much 
 sooner than you expected," said Mrs. Lent. " That 
 ought to be a good thing for you." 
 
 " I ve no doubt it will be," said Nathan, taking 
 up his candle. " I ll leave Gottlieb Stein in charge 
 of the greenhouses to-morrow, and I ll tell him to 
 come up to the house now and then to see if you 
 want anything. He ll come at seven o clock and 
 I ll see him before I go. Good night." 
 
 In the early dawn of the next morning the boy 
 Joe started for the show with the grey mare and a 
 well-loaded wagon ; and at seven o clock Nathan 
 Rinkle began to be impatient for the coming of his 
 chief assistant, Gottlieb Stein, who lived about a 
 mile away. He wanted him to put the brown horse 
 to the covered waggon, in a back corner of which 
 the Rev. Ezekiel was to travel, carefully protected 
 from the cool morning air ; and he had many 
 directions to give his assistant for the conduct of 
 his establishment during the day. It was seldom 
 that Gottlieb was late in coming to his work, and 
 Nathan was much annoyed that he should happen 
 to be so on this important occasion. 
 
 After fuming and fretting for at least a quarter 
 
 Q 2 
 
228 THE REV. EZEKIEL CRUMP. 
 
 of an hour as he walked up and down the princi- 
 ] il greenhouse, gathering together the plants he 
 meant to take to the show, the thought struck him 
 that possibly Gottlieb might have forgotten what 
 was to be the great business of the day and had 
 gone to work in some of the other houses. So he 
 hastily ran out to look for him. He opened the 
 doors of two other greenhouses, looked in and 
 called, but the man was not in either of them ; 
 then he ran over to the violet-house, which was 
 newer than the other houses and at some distance 
 from them. Mr. Rinkle did not find there the man 
 he wanted to see, but he found something he did 
 not want to see, and that was that a number of the 
 violet beds were very much in need of water. 
 
 " Confound it ! " he ejaculated, " here is a piece 
 of forgetfulness. And while I m waiting for that 
 fellow I might as well freshen up these beds," and 
 taking up a watering-pot, he proceeded to the 
 cistern. 
 
 This reservoir, supplied with rain water from the 
 roof, was simply a wide hole, about nine feet deep, 
 in the central part of the house. It had been dug 
 in a bed of clay, and the inside of it had not yet 
 
THE REV. EZEKIEL CRUMP. 229 
 
 been walled up or cemented, for as Mr. Rinkle had 
 found its clay sides and bottom impervious to 
 water, and it made a very good cistern as it was, he 
 had postponed finishing it for the present. As the 
 cistern was yet uncovered, no pump had been 
 placed in it, and Gottlieb had found it easy enough 
 to draw water from it by means of a bucket and 
 rope. So now, as he had to take Gottlieb s place, 
 Nathan Rinkle crouched down to the edge of the 
 cistern and lowered the bucket. Gottlieb Stein 
 was a heavy-footed man, and had crouched at that 
 spot so often that the earth was a little depressed 
 and inclined cistern-ward, and Mr. Rinkle s over 
 shoes being wet with the morning dew, were 
 slippery. In consequence, before the bucket was 
 half-way down, Mr. Rinkle slipped into the cistern 
 himself, and arrived with a great splash at the 
 bottom. 
 
 Plunged thus suddenly into darkness and water, 
 the good gardener s surprise almost took away his 
 breath. Fortunately he came down in a stand 
 ing position, and as soon as he was able to 
 command his senses he discovered that, although a 
 good deal jarred, he had not been hurt. He also 
 
230 THE REV. EZEKIEL CRUMP. 
 
 discovered, to his great surprise, that the water was 
 very low, and that it did not come up to the top of 
 the rubber overshoes which he wore to protect the 
 well-blacked boots he had put on for the flower 
 show. The season had been dry, and but little rain 
 had run into the cistern, and it might be that the 
 difficulty of dipping with a bucket in two or three 
 inches of water would explain Gottlieb s remissness 
 in the matter of watering the violets. 
 
 Nathan s first impulse was to wade around the 
 sides of the cistern and endeavour to find some 
 means of climbing out. This was instinctively 
 natural but impossible. The walls, although not 
 quite perpendicular, were smooth and slippery. 
 
 Then, at the top of his voice, Nathan began to 
 call for help, but after indulging in this exercise for 
 some time he was forced to admit to himself that it 
 was useless. The door of the violet-house was shut, 
 and as it was at a considerable distance from any 
 other building, it was not at all likely that he could 
 make anybody hear him until Gottlieb, not finding 
 his employer anywhere else, should come to that 
 building to look for him. 
 
 Nathan s anger more than filled the cistern. He 
 
THE RE I . EZEKIEL CRUMP. 231 
 
 was not a swearing man, but if the dilatory Gottlieb 
 could have heard the threats of his employer and 
 could have seen the clenched fist he shook in the 
 air, he would probably have been afraid to go to 
 his assistance. But as he could do nothing but 
 wait, Nathan thought he might as well w^ait as 
 comfortably as possible, so he laid hold of the 
 bucket, and, turning it bottom upwards, sat down 
 upon it. He drew his coat tails over his knees, and 
 as his feet were protected by his overshoes, he was 
 enabled thus to sit without getting wet. 
 
 It was not cold in the cistern, for the air was 
 tempered by the greenhouse temperature above, 
 and although it was very damp, Mr. Rinkle did not 
 mind that. He had passed so many years of his 
 life in moist glasshouses, going from their heat out 
 into the cold and dampness of the outer air without 
 any change of clothing, that his skin had become 
 tough and hardened, and he never thought of such 
 a thing as taking cold. As he sat thus and con 
 sidered his misfortunes, he was still very angry, but 
 he did not despair. Even if Gottlieb did not make 
 his appearance until eight o clock, it would still be 
 time enough for him to start with his flowers for 
 
232 THE REV. EZEKIEL CRUMP. 
 
 the show ; and so he sat and sat until, as his sleep 
 had been very broken the night before, he fell into 
 a doze. With his hands folded in his lap, and his 
 chin on his breast, he slept as he had often done 
 during the night watches in his greenhouses. 
 
 While Mr. Rinkle slept Mrs. Nicely Lent was at 
 work in her kitchen. She was a pleasant-looking 
 woman, of a cheerful temperament, and yet as she 
 worked she heaved a little sigh. Her breakfast 
 was over and she \\<as preparing the mincemeat for 
 the first mince pie of the season, and was doing it 
 with great care, for Mr. Rinkle was fond of mince 
 pies, and would gladly welcome this unexpected 
 harbinger of the season of good eating. 
 
 Moreover, it was Mrs. Lent s birthday, and she 
 saw no better way of celebrating it than by making 
 something good for Mr. Rinkle. It was quite 
 certain that no one would think of making anything 
 good for her. In no way was it a very joyful anni 
 versary, for it is lonelier to be lonely on one s birth 
 day than on any other day. Even her little maid 
 Elizabeth was absent on a visit to her parents, and 
 Gottlieb, whose own good nature even if Mr. 
 Rinkle had not told him to do so would have 
 
THE REV. EZEKIEL CRUM1\ 233 
 
 prompted him to come to the house to see if he 
 were needed, had not made his appearance. 
 
 "I suppose," thought Mrs. Lent, "that Mr. 
 Rinkle had a good breakfast at Mrs. Sharp s, for 
 she expected him, and it may be for she is quite 
 forward enough for that sort of thing that she has 
 
 o o 
 
 persuaded him to take her to the flower show." 
 And here there came a little sigh. " But if he s 
 done that he s done it," she reflected, " and there s 
 no help for it. But I shall put off dinner, and 
 won t have it until he comes home. And then he 
 shall have his mince pie nice and hot as he likes 
 it." 
 
 She was turning over the mincemeat with a fork, 
 looking for such pieces of suet as might be large 
 enough to pick out. " Mince pies do not agree with 
 him very well," she said to herself, "but he is very 
 fond of them, and I will take out as much suet as 
 I can and put in a little more brandy. I don t 
 think he will notice it, and it will make it more 
 wholesome." 
 
 Her fork now brought up a large raisin, and she 
 held it for a moment, thinking it might be better to 
 cut it in half before putting it back. Mr. Rinkle 
 
234 THE REV. EZEKIEL CRUMP. 
 
 was very fond of raisins, but to agree with him they 
 ought to be thoroughly cooked. Nicely Lent was 
 a woman who had tender sympathies and pleasant 
 memories, and as she sat with the raisin still on her 
 fork, she thought of other birthdays that had been 
 so different from this. She did not mind on 
 ordinary mornings being left alone in the house, 
 but this morning it was indeed depressing to be 
 there without a soul to speak to her. She could 
 imagine Mr. Rinklc in all the brightness and glad 
 ness of the flower show ; she could hear the 
 delightful admiration provoked by the Rev. 
 Ezekiel Crump, in whom she felt almost a maternal 
 pride, and she thought with a pang that, perhaps, 
 the Widow Sharp was at that moment making 
 herself officious by dilating to the bystanders upon 
 the merits of this grand pelargonium. And here 
 was she, sitting alone in her kitchen. As she 
 thought thus a large tear trickled down her cheek 
 and dropped upon the raisin. 
 
 This aroused her to a sense of the present. It 
 would not do to put a raisin that had been cried 
 on into a pie, and she was about to throw it away. 
 But she hesitated ; that tear had been evoked by 
 
THE REV. EZEKIEL CRUMP. 235 
 
 sweet memories of the past. It seemed like a 
 sacrilege to throw it away. She took the raisin 
 gently from the fork, and going to the window, 
 made a little hole in the mould of a pot of mignon 
 ette, which Mr. Rinkle had given her, and buried 
 the raisin therein. It suited her to think that the 
 little rootlets of the mignonette would take up that 
 tear. She put her nose to the delicate blossoms of 
 the plant, and then she returned to her work. 
 
 If Mrs. Lent had known that the day before had 
 been Gottlieb Stein s birthday, and that he was 
 now in bed at home, sleeping off the effects of 
 a large supper, which had been given in honour of 
 the anniversary to some chosen friends, she would 
 have hastened to the greenhouses to see if they 
 needed any attention in regard to warmth or 
 ventilation ; and she would have discovered Mr. 
 Rinkle s sorry plight, and her hands would have 
 borne him a ladder. 
 
 If Mr. Rinkle had known of Gottlieb s birthday 
 supper and its consequences, he would not so 
 frequently and with such drowsy content have 
 renewed his naps, thinking each time he half 
 opened his eyes that they had been closed but 
 
236 THE REV. EZEK1EL CRUMP. 
 
 a minute or two, and not imagining that his nature 
 was repaying itself the several hours of sleep 
 of which he had deprived it the night before. 
 
 It was nearly noon when, along a path which led 
 from a handsome house upon a hillside half-a- 
 mile away, a young lady appeared walking briskly 
 toward the Rinkle greenhouses. A more charming 
 girl is seldom seen on a bright October morning, 
 or, indeed, upon any other morning. 
 
 At this same time there walked along the crest 
 of the hills on the other side of the narrow valley 
 in which the greenhouses lay, a young man with a 
 stick under his arm, who had started out for 
 a long country tramp. But as he turned his head 
 to gaze upon the bright autumnal scenery beneath 
 him, he suddenly stopped. 
 
 " Upon my word ! " he exclaimed aloud, " I 
 believe that is Clara. Yes, truly it is. She is 
 going down to Nathan Rinkle s greenhouses. 
 What glorious good luck. I wonder if I can get 
 there before her." 
 
 There was really no doubt upon this subject, for 
 the young man ran down the hill, vaulted over a 
 fence, crossed a brook, and hurrying through the 
 
THE REV. EZEKIEL CRUMP. 237 
 
 Rinkle apple orchard, reached the nearest green 
 house in a surprisingly short time. He had been 
 there for nearly five minutes, walking up and 
 down, smelling some flowers without perceiving 
 their scent, and looking at others without noticing 
 their colour, when the door opened and the young 
 lady entered. His astute mind had rightly divined 
 that she would go into the house first reached by 
 the path. 
 
 With outstretched hand he advanced to meet 
 her, and took no pains to conceal his delight 
 in doing so. She was surprised, and all the prettier 
 for that. 
 
 " I have come," she said, as she offered him her 
 hand, " to get this basket filled with flowers. But 
 Mr. Rinkle is not here, I believe." 
 
 " No," said the young man. " Shall you wait for 
 him here, or shall we go to look for him ? " 
 
 " Oh, I will go to look for him," she said, " but 
 don t let me trouble you, Mr. Hatfield." 
 
 " Trouble ! " he exclaimed. " As if it were 
 possible." And they went out together. 
 
 Young Leonard Hatfield was not the avowed 
 lover of Miss Knightley, but the only reason for 
 
238 THE REV. EZEKIEL CRUMP. 
 
 this was that he had never yet had an opportunity 
 of avowing his passion for her. He had adored 
 her for what seemed to him a very long time, but 
 never in her father s mansion on the hill, on the 
 tennis grounds, or in the houses of friends, had he 
 found the moment he longed for. Now it seemed 
 to him that it had come. He would have been 
 glad to open his heart to her in the quiet green 
 house among the flowers, but she was in such a 
 hurry to leave it she gave him no time. 
 
 The two now entered the next greenhouse, but 
 they found no one there. Leonard was in favour 
 of waiting there until someone came, but Clara 
 would not agree to that ; she thought it better to 
 find someone. 
 
 They now went into the principal greenhouse, 
 and near the door stood a number of plants 
 covered with beautiful blossoms, and prominent 
 among these was the Rev. Ezekiel Crump. 
 
 Clara was a great lover of flowers. " What 
 a perfectly beautiful pelargonium this is ! " she 
 exclaimed. " Oh, if I could have one of those 
 sprays. I wish I could find someone to attend to 
 me." 
 
THE REV. EZEKIEL CRUMP. 239 
 
 " I don t think Mr. Rinkle or any of his men are 
 here," said Leonard, after walking to the other end 
 of the house and calling several times, " but here is 
 someone who can attend to you. Let me cut off 
 this spray and give it to you. I shall be so glad 
 to do it," and he took a knife from his pocket. 
 
 " Oh, no, no ! " exclaimed Clara, stretching out 
 her hand toward him. " You must not do it. I 
 am sure that is a rare flower, and very likely Mr. 
 Rinkle intends to take it to the flower show at 
 Marston, which opens to-day." 
 
 " Oh, no," said Leonard, quite confidently, " he 
 has taken his flowers there long before this. I 
 have no doubt he had a lot of this sort of pelar 
 gonium, more than he wanted, and he left this 
 one." 
 
 Clara was examining the flower with great 
 interest. " I must find out about this," she said ; 
 " I never saw anything like it. Just look at this 
 spray with five great blossoms on it, each of them 
 nearly three inches in diameter ! And what ex- 
 qusite blending of crimson, pink, and green ! I 
 wonder what it is called." She stooped and read 
 the name of the plant, which was writtten on a 
 
2 4 o THE REV. EZEK1EE CRUMP. 
 
 wooden label stuck into the earth of the pot. 
 " How utterly absurd ! " she exclaimed, laughing. 
 " This perfectly beautiful thing is named the Rev. 
 Ezekiel Crump." 
 
 She laughed again, and Leonard laughed with 
 her. But he did not intend to waste his time in 
 merriment ; his mind was bent on earnest work. 
 Here was a chance to speak which he must not 
 lose. 
 
 " Miss Knightley," he said, " if you will accept 
 from me this new and beautiful flower it will give 
 me a pleasure as new and beautiful as 
 
 " Oh, you mustn t do it ! " she cried. " Don t 
 touch it, please. I must ask Mr. Rinkle about it, 
 or his man, if he isn t here." And, without further 
 words, she turned and left the greenhouse. 
 
 Leonard followed her, disappointed and annoyed. 
 Miss Knightley s abrupt manner showed him that 
 she did not wish to give him an opportunity to 
 speak to her of the new and beautiful pleasure to 
 which he had alluded. But he did not intend to 
 give up the attempt, and he was quickly at her 
 side. 
 
 " There is only one other place where they 
 
THE REV. EZEK1EL CRUMP. 241 
 
 can be," she said, " they must be in the violet- 
 house. 
 
 Leonard did not wish to hurry to the violet- 
 house, or to any other house where they might 
 expect to find people. 
 
 " Miss Knightley," said he, " suppose we go there 
 by this broad walk which leads around the gardens. 
 That footpath is very narrow and may be wet." 
 
 " Oh, this leads straight to the house," said she, 
 " and that one goes ever so far around." And she 
 immediately took the narrow walk. 
 
 When following a lady along a path wide enough 
 for only one, and bordered by tall grass and bushes, 
 it is not often convenient to propose marriage to 
 her, especially if she be walking very fast. But 
 Leonard followed Miss Knightley resolutely. If 
 it were necessary he would walk home with her. 
 This day he would certainly finish what he had 
 begun to say to her. 
 
 " I declare," said Miss Knightley, when she had 
 proceeded nearly to the middle of the violet-house, 
 " there is nobody here. I certainly expected to 
 find someone in this place." 
 
 u And most happy am I," said Leonard, stepping 
 
 R 
 
242 1HR REV. EZEKIEL CRUMP. 
 
 close to her, " that there is nobody here, for this 
 gives me a chance to tell you, Clara, that I love 
 you ; with all my heart and soul I have long loved 
 you, and I cannot wait any longer to tell you so." 
 In his excitement he took hold of her left hand, 
 her right being occupied with her basket. 
 
 Mr. Rinkle wakened when he heard the door of 
 the violet-house open. In an instant he was sit 
 ting up alert, and with every sense at its sharpest. 
 " It must be after eight o clock," he said to himself, 
 " and that rascal has just come. I ll pay him well 
 for this. But I ll wait until he comes nearer, and 
 give him a good fright." 
 
 Prepared to give a howl which might come from 
 a wild demon of the depths, Nathan sat leaning 
 forward, and ready to spring to his feet when the 
 miscreant Gottlieb should be near enough. But 
 suddenly his mood changed. " There are the foot 
 steps of two persons," he thought, " and I hear the 
 rustling of a dress. One must be a woman." Then 
 hearing Clara s exclamation, his heart sank. " It s 
 Miss Knightley," he said to himself, " and someone 
 with her. Oh, dear me. I must not let them know 
 I am here! If she should go home and tell her 
 
THE REV. EZEKIEL CRUMP. 243 
 
 father she found me down a cistern I d never hear 
 the end of it. He d laugh at me as long as he 
 lives." 
 
 So, crouching down as low as possible, Mr. 
 Rinkle remained perfectly quiet, hoping that these 
 untimely visitors might soon leave the house. But 
 the next moment he heard Leonard s avowal of his 
 love. 
 
 " My conscience ! " thought Nathan, holding his 
 breath in amazement. " It s that young Hatfield 
 making love to her. How very embarrassing. Oh 
 dear ! Oh dear ! It would be awful if they knew 
 I was so close to them." But in spite of his em 
 barrassment, Nathan did not put his fingers to his 
 ears. His heart had never beat so quickly ; he had 
 never been more interested. 
 
 Leonard continued : " Clara," he said, speaking 
 earnestly and rapidly, " may I love you ? Can I 
 hope that you will love me ? Oh ! Do not think 
 of going away. There is nothing in the world so 
 important as what I am saying to you." 
 
 Clara had looked towards the door, but whether 
 she contemplated a retreat towards it, or whether 
 she glanced through its glass panes in the fear that 
 
 R 2 
 
244 THE REV. EZEKIEL CRUMP. 
 
 someone might be approaching, Leonard could not 
 tell ; but she saw no one, and it was impossible to 
 retreat, so tightly was her hand held. She turned 
 her head from the door, and bent her eyes upon 
 the ground. 
 
 "Oh, Clara!" he exclaimed, "will you not speak 
 to me ? Will you not look at me ? " 
 
 She did not speak, but she looked up at him. 
 That was enough. 
 
 " How very embarrassing," thought Mr. Rinkle, 
 his ears expanding like opening calla lilies, and his 
 heart beating faster in his excited interest. " She 
 must have agreed, for they surely are kissin . 
 Yes, I can hear them, and most likely hugging. 
 Mercy on me ! It s lucky they don t know I m 
 here. How dreadful it would be if they even 
 heard me breathe ! " And as this thought came to 
 him he pressed his lips closely together. 
 
 "Oh, happy, happy clay !" cried Leonard. "Oh, 
 glorious world ! Oh, darling Clara my own for 
 ever." 
 
 " Dear me, dear me ! " thought Mr. Rinkle, 
 " how warmed up he is. And I don t wonder. I 
 wonder if he really is holding her in his arms. 
 Yes, he must be. That was another kiss." 
 
THE REV. EZEKIEL CRUMP. 245 
 
 Some calla lilies are so large that it was impos 
 sible for Mr. Rinkle s ears to rival their dimensions, 
 but they did their best. 
 
 "And you really are mine for ever and always ?" 
 asked the ardent lover. 
 
 And into the violet-perfumed air of the green 
 house there was breathed the one word " Yes." 
 
 " There," thought Mr. Rinkle, " that is the first 
 thing she has said. But, to be sure, he hasn t 
 given her a chance. What ! Again and again ! 
 I almost wish they would go away. This is get 
 ting to be very embarrassing." 
 
 " Come, darling," said Leonard, " let us go. And 
 nothing shall now prevent my giving that loveliest 
 flower to the loveliest woman on earth. It shall be 
 my first present to her, and a fit one. She shall 
 carry home, my love, and with it the finest spray of 
 blossom from the Rev. Ezekiel Crump." 
 
 " Don t you do it!" screamed Mr. Rinkle, spring 
 ing to his feet. " Don t you touch it ! I m going 
 to take that flower to the show. I wouldn t have 
 it spoiled for the world." 
 
 There was a scream from Clara ; a shout from 
 Leonard. Then the young lady began to tremble 
 and sat down on the floor. Her lover assisted her to 
 
246 THE REV. EZEKIEL CRUMP. 
 
 lean back against one of the supports of the violet 
 beds, and then, seeing that she had not really 
 fainted, he sprang to the open mouth of the cistern. 
 There, a little below the surface of the floor, he saw 
 the pale face of Mr. Rinkle, who was standing on 
 the bucket. 
 
 " I beg a thousand pardons, Mr. Hatfield," said 
 the trembling florist, dismayed at what he had 
 done, " and I vow I wouldn t have heard a word of 
 what you were saying if it had been possible for 
 me to sink any deeper into the bowels of the earth. 
 There is a ladder at the far end of the greenhouse, 
 and if you will put that down here, Mr. Hatfield, 
 I ll come up and tell you all about it." 
 
 Leonard was so amazed, so shocked, and so 
 angry, that he could find no words in which to 
 reply to this apparition in the cistern, but he 
 brought the ladder, and very soon the florist was 
 standing before him and Clara, who had now risen 
 to her feet. 
 
 " This is very embarrassing," said the florist, his 
 hands clasped before him. 
 
 " Now then," said Leonard, fiercely, " none of 
 that nonsense. I got you out to hear what you had 
 
THE REV. EXE KIEL CRUMP. 247 
 
 to say about this contemptible piece of busi 
 ness." 
 
 Mr. Rinkle looked first at the angry young man 
 and then at the pale Clara, and told everything just 
 as it happened. " You see," said he in conclusion, 
 " I kept so very quiet thinking to frighten Gottlieb, 
 that you two began speakin in a way that might 
 be called confidential before I had time to let you 
 know that there was someone else in the screen- 
 
 o 
 
 house ; and then I didn t like to speak out because 
 I knew it would embarrass you so dreadfully, and 
 I felt at any moment you might be on the p int of 
 going away. As for me, I assure you I never was 
 more embarrassed since the beginning of my days." 
 
 " Look here," said Leonard, " I want to know if 
 you heard everything we said ? " 
 
 " Oh, no, indeed," replied the good Nathan. 
 " There were times when I couldn t hear a word. 
 You see I was at the very bottom of the cistern. 
 But of course I couldn t help understand-in the 
 drift of the conversation, which seemed in a way 
 to betoken that you two were engaged to be 
 married." 
 
 Miss Knightley, whose colour had come back to 
 
248 THE REV, EZEKIEL CRUMP. 
 
 her face, looked at Leonard ; he looked at her, and 
 they both laughed. Mr. Rinkle saw his oppor 
 tunity and extended a hand to each. " Let me 
 congratulate you," said he, " and I beg from the 
 bottom of my heart that you won t mind an old 
 fellow like me gettin by the merest accident a hint 
 of your engagement before anybody else. And 
 you may trust me for never sayin a word to a 
 livin soul about it ; as far as that goes it might 
 have been one of them pots that was down in the 
 cistern." 
 
 There was a moment of silence, and Clara was 
 the first to speak. 
 
 " It is dreadfully embarrassing, as you say, Mr. 
 Rinkle, but it can t be helped now, and I am 
 willing to forgive you. But you must promise not 
 only not to mention our engagement until we are 
 ready to announce it, but that you will never, 
 never to the end of your days, mention to a living 
 soul that you were anywhere near at the time it 
 was made." 
 
 "Oh, bless me!" cried Mr. Rinkle, "I ll never 
 do that. It would make me the laughing-stock of 
 the country." 
 
THE REV. EZEKIEL CRUMP. 249 
 
 " If I ever hear," said Leonard, " that this has 
 leaked out, I shall make it my business that the 
 people in this neighbourhood shall never go to one 
 of your greenhouses without sending somebody 
 ahead to see who is in the cistern." 
 
 " Oh, you need have no fear of that," said 
 Nathan, " and now you must excuse me for leaving 
 you so abruptly. I must hurry off to the flower 
 show. I haven t my watch with me, but it must be 
 a good deal after eight o clock." 
 
 " After eight ! " exclaimed Leonard, taking out 
 his watch, " it is half-past twelve." 
 
 Mr. Rinkle stood aghast. " I must have slept 
 the whole morning," he said, woefully. " And that 
 settles me at the flower show. The prizes were to 
 be given out at noon to-day, while things are fresh, 
 and there is no use in my thinking of going there 
 at this time. It is all up with me and my exhibi 
 tion, at least the best part of it" 
 
 An idea suddenly struck the florist. " Stay here, 
 please," he said, " I ll be back in a minute." And 
 he ran out of the house. 
 
 In a short time he returned, bearing in his hand 
 the largest spray of blossoms from the Rev. 
 
250 THE REV. EZEKIEL CRUMP 
 
 Ezekiel Crump. " It s no use letting them stay 
 until they are withered," he said, " and as the plant 
 can t enter for a prize now I ll let you, Mr. Hatfield, 
 do what you wanted to do, and give your lady a 
 flower that no other lady ever had before.- If you 
 knew how I worked and waited to get those blos 
 soms you d know the value of them." 
 
 This extinguished the last spark of resentment 
 in Leonard s mind, and Mr. Rinkle considerately 
 absented himself during the presentation of the 
 flowers. 
 
 It was evening ; dinner was over, and Mr. Rinkle 
 pushed back his chair with an air of great content. 
 At the hasty luncheon, which he ate standing and 
 in a perturbation of mind, quite natural after what 
 had happened, he had merely stated to Mrs. Lent 
 that he had not gone to the flower show because 
 Gottlieb had not come to take charge. But now, 
 during dinner, he had given Mrs. Lent a full account 
 of his misadventures, alluding to his rescue from 
 the cistern only by saying that Mr. Hatfield had 
 happened to come into the violet-house and had 
 helped him out. 
 
 " That was a wonderfully good mince pie, Mrs, 
 
THE REV. EZEKIEL CRUMP. 251 
 
 Lent," he remarked in his after-dinner serenity, 
 "there never was a better." 
 
 " If I had only known," said Mrs. Lent, "that 
 while I was making it you were down in that 
 dreadful hole, how fast I would have run to you." 
 
 Mr. Rinkle crossed his legs and smiled. He 
 was in a state of great good humour. " I know 
 you would, Mrs. Lent, I know you would. But, 
 after all, perhaps it is just as well you didn t come." 
 
 She looked surprised. " Don t you think I could 
 have helped you out as well as anybody ? " 
 
 " Of course you could. I wasn t thinking of 
 that," said Nathan, walking up and down the floor 
 and still smiling. Suddenly he struck his hands 
 together, and then he took his hat from its peg. 
 " Mrs. Lent," said he, " don t clear away the dinner 
 things. I ll be back in a minute." 
 
 When he returned he brought with him the 
 second largest spray of flowers from the Rev. 
 Ezekiel Crump, bearing four great blossoms. 
 
 " Nicely," said he, " allow me to present to the 
 loveliest woman on earth the loveliest flower, at 
 least of the pelargonium family, that was ever 
 grown by man." 
 
252 THE REV. EZEKIEL CRUMP. 
 
 Mrs. Lent stood up amazed. Never before had 
 he called her Nicely ; and what did he mean by 
 bringing her that almost sacred flower ? "I don t 
 understand," she gasped. 
 
 "Nicely, said he, " may I love you ? Will you 
 love me in return ? Come now, don t look down 
 or think about doing kitchen work. There is 
 nothing so important as what I am saying to 
 you." 
 
 She understood now. Flushing and trembling, 
 she could not speak, but she looked up at him, 
 and that was enough. As for Nathan, he forgot 
 nothing of the lesson he had learned. 
 
 It was an hour afterward. The room was in 
 order and the two were sitting by the fire. He 
 had just finished giving her a full account of the 
 interview he had overheard between Miss Knight- 
 ley and Mr. Hatfield. " Of course, t wouldn t 
 have told you," he said, " so long as we were 
 merely good friends, but now that we are the 
 same as one, I couldn t help tellin you. It s your 
 right to know all I know." 
 
 o 
 
 The widow was so well aware of Nathan s desire 
 to tell things about people that a faint suspicion 
 
THE REV. EZEKIEL CRUMP, 253 
 
 came into her mind that perhaps he had proposed 
 to her because there was no other way in which he 
 could justify himself in telling her this wonderful 
 bit of news. But she dismissed the thought as an 
 unworthy one. 
 
 "After all," exclaimed the jubilant Nathan, "the 
 Rev. Ezekiel Crump brought me a prize. He 
 brought me you." 
 
 Mrs. Lent looked at him inquiringly. " What 
 had he to do with it ? " she said. 
 
 He turned a beaming face toward her, " Nicely," 
 said he, " if them two had gone away without 
 knowing I was in the cistern, and I d had to wait 
 until Gottlieb came and got me out, and that 
 rascal didn t show himself until two o clock this 
 afternoon, there d been a fight ; and as he is a big 
 fellow, and I d been a fiery mad one, I wouldn t 
 have been in a fit state this day to make love to 
 anyone. But it was the name of the Rev. 
 Ezekiel Crump that brought me bouncing to my 
 feet and got me out of that hole, while I was in 
 such a state of mind hearin what I heard and 
 thinkin about what I imagined, that I was one 
 tingle of glowin excitement from my head that 
 
254 THE REV. EZEKIEL CRUMP. 
 
 was in the air to my feet that were in the water, 
 and I kept thinkin and thinkin about it, till early 
 in the afternoon I made up my mind that as soon 
 as I could get the day s work done and dinner 
 was over, I wouldn t wait any longer to declare 
 my love, just as young Hatfield couldn t wait any 
 longer to declare his." 
 
 " Nathan," said she, " did hearing those two put 
 this disposition into you ? " 
 
 He threw one arm over the back of her chair. 
 " No, indeed, Nicely," said he, " it only brought it 
 out." 
 
 The next day Mr. Rinkle went to the flower 
 show dressed in his best clothes and wearing in 
 his button-hole the remaining spray of blossoms 
 from his new pelargonium. His brother florists 
 stared with amazement at his adornment. "If 
 you had brought yesterday the plant that bore 
 that flower," one of them exclaimed, " you would 
 have gained a first prize." 
 
 " Oh, I got prize enough," said Nathan, with an 
 air of superiority to floricultural distinctions, " and 
 the Rev. Ezekiel Crump must wait until next year 
 for his turn." 
 
GRANDISON S QUANDARY. 
 
 RANDISON PRATT was a coloured man 
 of about thirty, who, with his wife and two 
 or three children, lived in a neat log cabin in one 
 of the Southern States of America. He was a man 
 of a very independent turn of mind, and he much 
 desired to own the house in which he lived and the 
 small garden patch around it. This valuable piece 
 of property belonged to Mr. Morris, and as it was 
 an outlying corner of his large farm he had no 
 objection to sell it to Grandison, provided the latter 
 could pay for it ; but of this he had great doubts. 
 The man was industrious enough, but he often 
 seemed to have a great deal of difficulty about 
 paying the very small rental charged for his place, 
 and Mr. Morris, consequently, had well-grounded 
 doubts about his ability to purchase it. 
 
 " But, sah," said Grandison one day, when these 
 
256 GRANDISON S QUANDARY. 
 
 objections had been placed before him, u I s been 
 turning dis thing ober in my min ober and ober. I 
 know jes how much I kin make an how much I s 
 got to spend an how I kin save ter buy the house, 
 and if I agree to pay you so much money on such 
 a day an so much on such anudder day I se gwine 
 ter do it. You kin jes put that down, sah, for 
 sartin shuh." 
 
 "Well, Grandison," said Mr. Morris, "I ll give 
 you a trial. If at the end of six months you can 
 pay me the first instalment, I ll have the necessary 
 papers made out, and you can go on and buy the 
 place ; but if you are not up to time on the first 
 payment, I want to hear no more about the pur 
 chase." 
 
 " All right, Mahs r Morris," said Grandison. " If 
 I gibs you my word ter pay de money on de fus 
 day ob October, I s gwine to do it. Dat s sartin 
 shuh." 
 
 Months passed on, and, although Grandison 
 worked as steadily as usual, he found towards 
 the end of September that, in the ordinary course 
 of things, he would never be able to make up 
 the sum necessary for the first payment. Other 
 
ND/SON S QUANDARY. 257 
 
 methods out of the ordinary course came into 
 his mind, but he had doubts about availing himself 
 of them. He was extremely anxious to make up 
 the amount due, for he knew very well that if he 
 did not pay it on the day appointed he might bid 
 farewell to his hope of becoming a freeholder. In 
 his perplexity he resolved to consult Brother Bijah, 
 the minister of the little church in the pine woods, 
 to which Grandison belonged. 
 
 " Now, look-a-heah, Brudder Bijah," said he, 
 <c wot s I gwine to do bout dis bizness. I done 
 promised ter pay dis money on de fus day ob de 
 comin month, an dar s 86 ob it dat I ain t got yit." 
 
 " An ain t der any way ter git it ? " asked 
 Bijah. 
 
 " Yaas, dar s one way, said Grandison. " I s 
 been turnin dis matter ober an ober in my min , 
 an dar s only one way. I (nought sell apples. 
 Apples is mighty skarse dis fall, an I kin git 2 a 
 bar l for em in town. Now, if I was ter sell three 
 bar ls of apples I d hab dat $6 sartin shuh. Don 
 you see dat, Brudder Bijah ? " 
 
 " Dat s all clar nuff," said the minister, " but 
 whar you gwine ter get three bar ls o apples ? 
 
258 GRANDfSON S QUANDARY. 
 
 You don t mean ter tell me dat you s got nuf 
 apple trees in your little gyardin fur ter shake 
 down three bar ls o apples." 
 
 " Now, look a-heah, Brudder Bijah," said Grandi- 
 son, his eyes sparkling with righteous indignation, 
 " dat s too much to spec of a man who s got ter 
 work all day to s port his wife and chillun. I digs, 
 an ploughs, an I plants, an I hoes, an if anybody 
 gibes me any gwahner I dusts dat on de groun . 
 But all dem things ain t nuf ter make apple trees 
 grow in my gyardin like as dey was cohnfiel 
 peas." 
 
 " Dat s so," said Bijah, reflectively. " Dat s too 
 much to spec ob any man. But how s you gwine 
 ter sell de apples if you ain t got em ? " 
 
 " I s got ter git em," said Grandison. " Dar s 
 apples nufT growin roun , an not so fur away dat 
 I can t tote em ter my house in a basket. It s 
 powerful hard on a man wot s worked all day ter 
 have ter tote apples ahfter night, but dar ain t no 
 other way ob gittin dat dar money." 
 
 " I spec de orchard whar you s thinkin o gwine 
 is Mahs r Morrises," said the minister. 
 
 " You don spose I se gwine ter any ob dose low 
 
GRAND/SON S QUANDARY. 259 
 
 down orchards on de udder side de crick, does ye ? 
 Mahs r Morris has got de bes apples in dis county. 
 Dat s de kin wot fotch $2 a bar l." 
 
 " Brudder Gran son," said Bijah, solemnly, " is 
 you min runnin on takin Mahs r Morrises apples 
 inter town an sellin em ? " 
 
 " Well, he gits de money, don t he ? " answered 
 the other, " and if I don t sell his apples, tain t no 
 use sellin none. Dem udder little nubbins roun 
 heah won t fetch no $2 a bar l." 
 
 " Dem ain t justifyin deeds wot s runnin in your 
 mind," said Bijah. " Dey ain t justifyin ." 
 
 " Ob course," said Grandison, " dey wouldn t be 
 justifyin if I had de six dollars. But I ain t got 
 em, an I se promised to pay em. Now, is I ter 
 stick to de truf, or isn t I ? " 
 
 " Truf is mighty," said the preacher, " an ought 
 not to be hendered from prevailin ." 
 
 " Dat s so ! dat s so ! " exclaimed Grandison. 
 " You can t go agin de Scripters. Truf is mighty, 
 an t taint fur pore human critters like us to try to 
 upsot her. Wot we re got ter do is ter stick to her 
 through thick an thin ." 
 
 " Ob course, dat s wot we oughter do," said 
 
 S 2 
 
260 GRANDISOWS QUANDARY. 
 
 Bijah, " but I can t see my way clar to you sellin 
 dem apples." 
 
 " But dar ain t nuffin else ter do ! " exclaimed 
 Grandison, " an ef I don t do dat, away goes de 
 truf, clar out o sight. An wot sort of ligion you 
 call dat, Brudder Bijah ? " 
 
 "Taint no kind at all," said Bijah, "fur we s 
 bound ter stick to de truf, which is de bottom 
 corner-stone ob piousness. But dem apples don t 
 seem ter git demselves straightened out in my 
 mind, Brudder Gran son." 
 
 " It pears ter me, Brudder Bijah, dat you doan 
 look at dem apples in de right light. If I was 
 gwine to sell em to git money ter buy a lot o 
 spotted calliker to make frocks fur de chillen, or 
 eben ter buy two pars o shoes fur me an Judy ter 
 go to church in, dat would be a sin sartin shuh. 
 But you clone furgit dat I s gwine ter take de money 
 straight off ter Mahs r Morris. If apples is riz and 
 I gets $2.25 a bar l, ob course I keeps de extry 
 quarter, which don pay anyhow fur de trouble ob 
 pickin and haulin em. But de $6 I gibs, cash 
 down, ter Mahs r Morris. Don you call dat 
 puffectly fa r an squar , Brudder Bijah? " 
 
GRANDISON S QUANDARY. 261 
 
 Bijah shook his head. " Dis a mighty duber- 
 some question, Brudder Gran son, a mighty duber- 
 some question." 
 
 Grandison stood with a disappointed expression 
 on his countenance. He greatly desired to gain 
 from his minister sanction for the financial opera 
 tion he had proposed. But this the solemn Bijah 
 did not appear prepared to give. As the two men 
 stood together by the roadside they saw, riding 
 toward them, Mr. Morris himself. 
 
 " Now den," exclaimed Grandison, " heah comes 
 Mahs r Morris, and I s gwine ter put dis question 
 to hisse f. He oughter know how ter cide bout it 
 if anybody does." 
 
 " You ain t gwine ter tell him bout dem apples, 
 is ye ? " asked Bijah, quickly. 
 
 " No, sah," replied the other. " I s gwine to put 
 the case on a diff rent show- pint. But twill be the 
 same thing as de udder." 
 
 Mr. Morris was a genial-natured man, who took 
 a great deal of interest in his negro neighbours, 
 and was fond of listening to their peculiar humour. 
 Therefore, when he saw that Grandison wished to 
 speak to him he readily pulled up his horse. 
 
262 GRANDISONS QUANDARY. 
 
 " Mahs r Morris," said Grandison, removing his 
 hat, " Brudder Bijah an me has been argyin on 
 de subjick ob truf. An jes as you was comin up 
 I was gwine ter tell him a par ble, bout sticken ter 
 truf. An if you s got time, Mahs r Morris, I d be 
 pow ful glad ter tell you de par ble, and let you cide 
 tween us." 
 
 "Very well," said Mr. Morris, settling himself 
 easily in his saddle, " go on with your parable." 
 
 II. 
 
 " Dis yere par ble," said Grandison, " has got a 
 justifyin meanin in it, an it s bout a b ar an a 
 possum. De possum, he was a-gwine out early 
 in de mawnin ter git a little cohn fur his break- 
 fus " 
 
 " Very wrong in the opossum," said Mr. Morris, 
 for I am sure he hadn t planted any corn." 
 
 " Well, den, sah," said Grandison, " p raps twas 
 akerns ! but, anyway, afore he was out ob de 
 woods he see a big ole b ar a-comin straight long 
 to him. De possum he ain t got no time ter climb 
 a tree an git out on de leetlest end ob a long limb, 
 an so he lay hese f flat down on de groun an 
 
GRAND/SONS QUANDARY. 263 
 
 make b lieve he s dead. When de ole bar came 
 up he sot down an look at de possum. Fus he 
 turn his head on one side, an den he turn his head 
 on de udder, but he look at de possum all de time. 
 D rectly he gits done lookin , an he says : 
 
 " Look-a-head, possum, is you dead or is you 
 libin ? If you s dead I won t eat you, fur I neber 
 eat dead critters, but if you s libin den I eat you 
 for breakfus , fur I is bilin hungry, not havin had 
 nuffin sence sun-up but a little snack dat I took 
 afore gwine out into the damp air ob de mawnin . 
 Now, den, possum, speak out an tell me, is you 
 libe or is you dead ? 
 
 " Dat are question frew de possum inter a 
 pow ful sweat. If he tole de truf an said he was 
 alibe he knowed well nuf dat de bar would gobble 
 him up quicker n if he d been a hot ash cake an 
 a bowl of buttermilk ; but if he said he was dead 
 so s de bar wouldn t eat him, de bar, like nuf, 
 would know he lied, an would eat him all de 
 same. So he turned de matter ober in his min , 
 an he wrastled wid his Victions, but he couldn t 
 come ter no elusion. Now don t you tink, said 
 de bar, dat I s got time to sit here de whole 
 
264 GRANDISON S QUANDARY. 
 
 mawnin waitin fer you ter make up your mind 
 whether you s dead or not. If you don t cide 
 pretty quick I ll put a big rock a-top o you, an* 
 stop fer your answer when I come back in de 
 ebeninV Now dis gib de possum a pow ful skeer, 
 an twas cl ar to his min dat he mus cide de 
 question straight off. If he tole de truf, and said 
 he was alibe, he d be eat up shuh ; but if he said 
 he was dead, de bar mought b lieve him. Twarnt 
 very likely dat he would, but dar was one leetle 
 chance, an he done took it. I is dead, says he. 
 You s a long time makin up your min bout it/ 
 says de bar. * How long you been dead ? Sence 
 day fore yestidday, say the possum. * All right ! * 
 says de bar, when dey ve on y been dead two or 
 free days, an kin talk, I eats em all de same. 
 An he cat him up." 
 
 " And now, Grandison," said Mr. Morris, " where 
 is the moral of that parable ? " 
 
 " De moral is dis," said Grandison ; " stick ter de 
 truf. If de possum had tole de truf, an said he 
 was alibe, de bar couldn t eat him nomore n he did 
 eat him ; no bar could do dat. An I axes you, 
 Mahs r Morris, don dat par ble show dat eb ry- 
 
GRANDISOA S QUANDARY. 265 
 
 body oughter stick ter de truf, no matter what 
 happens." 
 
 " Well, I don t think your moral is very clear," 
 said Mr. Morris, " for it would have been about as 
 bad for the possum one way as the other. But, 
 after all, I suppose it would have been better for 
 the little beast to tell the truth and die with a clear 
 conscience." 
 
 " Dat s so ! " cried Brother Bijah, speaking in his 
 ministerial capacity, " de great thing in dis worl is 
 ter die wid a clear conscience." 
 
 " But you can t do dat," said Grandison, " if you 
 let dis thing an dat thing come in ter hinder ye. 
 Now dat s jes wot we s been disputin bout, Mahs r 
 Morris. I clared dat we oughter stick ter de truf 
 widout lookin to de right or de lef ; but Brudder 
 Bijah, his min wasn t quite made up on de subjick. 
 Now, wot you say, Mahs r Morris?" 
 
 " I say stick to the truth, of course," said Mr. 
 Morris, gathering up his reins. " And, by the way, 
 Grandison, do you expect to make that payment 
 on your place, which is due next week ? " 
 
 " Yaas, sah, sartin shuh," said Grandison. " I 
 done tole you I d do it, Mahs r Morris, an I tends 
 ter stick ter de truf." 
 
266 GRANDISON S QUANDARY. 
 
 " Now, den," said Grandison, in a tone of 
 triumph, when Mr. Morris had ridden away, 
 "you see J s right in my elusions, and Mahs r 
 Morris grees with me." 
 
 " Dunno," said Brother Bijah, shaking his head, 
 " dis is a mighty dubersome question. You kep 
 dem apples clar out o sight, Brudder Gran son ; 
 clar out o sight." 
 
 It was about a week after this, quite early in the 
 morning, that Grandison was slowly driving into 
 town with a horse and a waggon which he had 
 borrowed from a neighbour. In the waggon were 
 three barrels of fine apples. Suddenly, at a turn 
 in the road, he was greatly surprised to meet Mr. 
 Morris, riding homeward. 
 
 " What have you in those barrels, Grandison ? " 
 inquired his landlord. 
 
 " Dey s apples, sah," was the reply, " dat I s got 
 de job ob haulin ter town, sah." 
 
 Mr. Morris rode up to the waggon and removed 
 the piece of old canvas that was thrown over the 
 tops of the barrels. There was no need of asking 
 any questions. No one but himself, for many 
 
GRAND/SONS QUANDARY. 267 
 
 miles around, had " Bellflowers " and " Jeannettes " 
 like these. 
 
 " How much do you lack, Grandison," he said, 
 " of making up the money you owe me to 
 morrow ? " 
 
 i% Six dollars, sah," said Grandison. 
 
 " Six dollars three barrels very good," said 
 Mr. Morris. " I see you are determined to stick 
 to the truth, Grandison, and keep your engage 
 ment. But I will trouble you to turn that waggon 
 round and haul those apples home. And, if you 
 still want to buy the place, you can come on 
 Monday morning and work out the balance you 
 have to make up on the first instalment ; and, 
 after this, you can make all your payments in 
 work. A day s labour is fair and plain, but I 
 can t expect to see through your ways of getting 
 money." 
 
 It was not long after this that Grandison was 
 ploughing in one of Mr. Morris s fields, when Brother 
 Bijah came along and sat upon the fence. 
 
 " Gran son," said he, when the ploughman had 
 reached the end of the furrow, and was preparing 
 
268 GRANDISON S QUANDARY. 
 
 to turn, " jes you let your boss res a minnit till I 
 tell you a par ble." 
 
 " Wot par ble ? " said Grandison in a tone of un 
 concern, but stopping his horse all the same. 
 
 " Why dis one ! " said Bijah. " Dar was an ole 
 mule an he b longed to a cullud man named 
 Harris, who used ter carry de mail from de Coht 
 House ter Gary s cross-roads. De ole mule was a 
 pow ful triflin critter an he got lazier an lazier, an 
 .ore long he got so dreffle slow dat it tuk him 
 more n one day ter go from de Coht House ter de 
 cross-roads, an he allus come in de day ahfter 
 mail-day, when de people was done gone home. 
 So de cullud man, Harris, he says : 
 
 " You is too ole fur ter carry de mail, you 
 triflin mule, an I hain t got no udder use fur you. 
 
 " So he put him in a gully-fiel , whar dar was 
 nuffin but bar groun an hog weed. Now, dar was 
 nuffin in dis worl dat triflin mule hated so much 
 as hog weed, and he says to hese f : I s boun ter 
 do somefin better n dis fur a libin. I reckin I ll go 
 skeer dat ole Harris, an make him gib me a feed 
 o meal. So he jump ober de fence, fur he was 
 spry nuf when he had a min ter, an he steals an 
 
GRANDISOATS QUANDARY. 269 
 
 ole bar skin dat he d seen hangin up in de stoh 
 po ch an he pretty nigh kivered himse f all up wid 
 it. Den he go down to de pos offis, whar de mail 
 had jes cum in. When dis triflin ole mule seed 
 de cullud man, Harris, sittin on de bottom step ob 
 de po ch, he begin to kick up his heels an make 
 all de noise he could wid his mouf. Wot s dat ? 
 cried de cullud man, Harris. * I s a big grizzly 
 bar, said de mule, scaped from de nagerie when 
 twas fordin Scott s Crick. When did you git 
 out ? said de cullud man, Harris. * I bus from de 
 cage at half-pas free o clock dis ebeninV An is 
 you reelly a grizzly bar ? Dat s de truf, said the 
 triflin mule, an I s pow ful hungry, an if you 
 don go git me a feed o meal I ll swaller you down 
 whole. An he begun to roar as like a grizzly bar 
 as he knew how. Dat all de truf, you tellin me? 
 de cullud man, Harris, ask. Dat s all true as I s 
 libin , says de triflin mule. All right den, says 
 de cullud man, Harris, " if you kin come from de 
 ford on Scott s Crick in a hour an a half, you kin 
 carry de mail jes as well as any udder mule, an 
 I s gwine ter buy a big cart whip, an make you do 
 it. So take off dat bar skin, an come long wid 
 
270 GRANDISOWS QUANDARY. 
 
 me. " So you see, Brudder Gran "son," continued 
 Bijah, " dar s dif rent kinds of truf, an you s got 
 ter be mighty ticklar wot kind you sticks ter." 
 
 "Git up," said Grandison to his drowsy horse, as 
 he started him on another furrow. 
 
New and Cheaper Edition of Standard Fiction. 
 
 Second Edition, Crown 8vo, 6s. 
 
 AN AMERICAN MONTE CRISTO. 
 
 A Romance. By JULIAN HAWTHORNE. 
 
 " There is a touch of supernatural in the story wisely left unexplained, 
 and for the rest, though wildly romantic, it is not a book to begin and lay 
 aside." Daily Graphic. 
 
 " Full of interest, excitement, and general go. Mr. Hawthorne rises to 
 the height of his great opportunity, very good indeed." Daily Chronicle. 
 
 " The reader is not likely to lay down the book until he has reached the 
 last page." Dailv Neivs. 
 
 Second Edition, Crown 8vo, 6s. 
 
 THE PRIVATE LIFE OF AN EMINENT POLITICIAN. 
 
 By EDOUARD ROD. 
 (Rendered into English from La Vie Privee de Michael Teissier.) 
 
 "The cleverness of the book is remarkable, its skill in developing 
 emotional situations unquestionable, its boldness refreshing, and its 
 modernity quite new." Scotsman. 
 
 "The story is profoundly interesting and deeply pathetic. The 
 psychology is exceedingly subtle, and many of the situations intensely 
 dramatic. Daily Chronicle. 
 
 New Edition, Crown 8vo, 35. 6d. 
 
 SIGNOR MONALDINI S NIECE. 
 
 A Novel of Italian Life. 
 
 With numerous Illustrations by the Author. Second Edition. 
 Crown 8vo, 2s. 
 
 ABSOLUTELY TRUE. 
 
 By IRVING MONTAGU, late Special War Correspondent to the 
 " Illustrated London News." 
 
 The book is not only charming as a tale, but it is written in excellent 
 taste and with conspicuous literary power. ... an altogether delightful 
 work." Scotsman. 
 
 A story of much power, told in fervid and stirring language. The 
 incidents are neatly arranged, and the interest never flags, while the 
 humour is consistent, and not over-strained." Dailv Telegraph. 
 
 Crown 8vo, Boards, 2s. 
 
 MIXED HUMANITY. 
 
 A Story of Camp Life in South Africa. By J. R. COUPER. 
 
 " The book is undoubtedly a stirring one, and is possibly true to Nature 
 as she shows herself under the conditions of the story." Liverpool Post. 
 
 .LONDON: W. H. ALLEN & Co., LTD., 13, Waterloo Place. 
 
Second Edition, Crown 8vo, Illustrated, 6s. 
 
 WANDERINGS OF A WAR ARTIST, 
 
 By IRVING MONTAGU, late Special War Artist 
 " Illustrated London News." 
 
 " Mr. Montagu is to be congratulate 1 on an eminently readable book, 
 which, both in style and matter, is above the average of productions in this 
 kind." Morning Post. 
 
 " The adventures of Mr. Montagu are narrated with humour, and are 
 seldom dull reading." Glasgow Herald. 
 
 " It is seldom that a more exciting and readable book comes into our 
 hands. . . . The spirit of enterprise and daring breathes in his every 
 page, and old and young alike will derive healthful amusement, together 
 with information and instruction, by following the author through his many 
 vicissitudes and experiences in his capacity as a war artist." Admiralty 
 and Horse Guards Gazette. 
 
 BY THE SAME AUTHOR. 
 Second Edition, Crown 8vo, Illustrated, 6s. 
 
 CAMP AND STUDIO. 
 
 " His animated pages and sketches have a more than ephemeral interest, 
 and present a moving picture of the romance and the misery of countries 
 and populations ravaged by great opposing armies, and many a picturesque 
 episode of personal experiences ; he is pleasant and amusing enough." 
 Daily News. 
 
 Mr. Montagu has plenty to tell, and an easy way of telling it which is 
 delightful. His vivacity is not spoilt by laborious effort, his pathos is not 
 vitiated by sentimentality, and he possesses the rare gift of exciting interest 
 in his own doings without so much as a taint of egotism." Broad Arrow. 
 
 Crown 8vo, with Portrait, 6s. 
 
 LEAVES FROM A SPORTSMAN S DIARY. 
 
 This interesting book consists of a series of short disconnected chapters 
 of adventure, each chapter being complete in itself, so that, for sportsmen, 
 the book will be found most suitable We can cordially recom 
 mend all sportsmen to read the book." Publisher s Circular. 
 
 " This will always be a popular book." Yorkshire Post. 
 
 Crown 8vo, 6s. 
 
 THE STORY OF A DACOITY. 
 
 Nagoji, the Beder Naik, and the Lolapur Week. 
 By G. K. BKTHAM, Indian Forest Department. 
 
 " Graphic sketches of Indian life, narrated with a good deal of spirit and 
 
 picturesque force The author has the knack of enlisting the 
 
 attention of his readers." Daily Telegraph. 
 
 LONDON: W. H. ALLKN & Co., LTD., 13, Waterloo Place. 
 
JANUARY, 1893. 
 
 MESSRS. W. H. ALLEN & CO. S 
 
 (ftufcltisijra to tfjr Entita f&ce) 
 
 GENERAL CATALOGUE. 
 
 All bound in Cloth unless otherwise stated. 
 
 1bi6ton> 
 
 SIR J. W. KAYE and COLONEL G. B. MALLESON. 
 
 History of the Indian Mutiny of 1857-8. Cabinet 
 
 Edition. 6 vols. Crown 8vo. 6s. each. 
 SIX J. W. KA YE. 
 
 History of the Sepoy War, 1857-8. Demy 8vo. 
 
 Vol. I., i8s. Vol. II., 2os. Vol. III., 2os. continued by COL. G. B. 
 MALLESON, C.S.I. Demy 8vo. 3 vols. 205. each. 
 
 Analytical Index to the Complete Work. By FREDERICK 
 PINCOTT. Demy 8vo. IDS. 6d. 
 
 History of the War in Afghanistan. New Edition. 
 
 3 vols. Crown 8vo. iSs* 
 
 SIR EDWARD CLIVE BAYLEY, K.C.S.L 
 
 The Local Muhammadan Dynasties. GUJARAT. 
 
 Forming a Sequel to Sir H. M. Elliot s "History of the Muham 
 madan Empire of India." Demy 8vo. 2is. 
 
 SIR GEORGE BIRD WOOD, M.D., K.C.I.E., &c. 
 
 Report on the Old Records of the India Office, 
 
 with Supplementary Note and Appendices. Royal 8vo, with Maps 
 and Illustrations. I2s. 6d. 
 
 MAJOR-GENL. SIR ALEX. CUNNINGHAM, R.E., K.CJ.E. 
 
 MahabOdhi, or the Great Buddhist Temple under the 
 Bodbi Tree at Buddha Gaya. With Photographs and Plans. Royal 
 4to. 3 3s. 
 
 London: 13, Waterloo Place, Pall Mall, S.W. 
 
2 W. H. Allen & Cols General Catalogue. 
 
 HOWARD HENSMAN, Special Correspondent of the "Pioneer" 
 {Allahabad) and the "Daily News " (London), 
 
 The Afghan War, 1879-80. Being a complete Narrative 
 of the Capture of Cabul, the Siege of Sherpur, the Battle of Ahmed 
 Khel, the brilliant March to Candahar, and the defeat of Ayub 
 Khan, with the operations on the Helmund, and the Settlement with 
 Abdur Rahman Khan. With Maps. Demy 8vo. 2 is. 
 
 T. R. E. HOLMES. 
 
 A History of the Indian Mutiny, and of the Dis 
 turbances which accompanied it among the Civil Population. Fourth 
 Edition. With Maps and Plans. Crown 8vo. 55. 
 
 HENRY GEORGE KEENE, C.I.E., B.C.S., M.R.A.S., &c. 
 
 A Sketch of the History of Hindustan. From the 
 
 First Muslim Conquest to the Fall of the Moghul Empire. By H. G. 
 KEENE, C.I.E., M.R.A.S., Author of "The Turks in India," &c. 
 8vo. 1 8s. 
 
 The Fall of the Moghul Empire. From the Death of 
 
 Aurungzeb to the overthrow of the Mahratta Power. A New Edition, 
 with Corrections and Additions. With Map. Crown 8vo. 7s. 6d. 
 
 This work fills up a blank between the ending of Elphinstone s and the commence 
 ment of Thornton s Histories. 
 
 Fifty-Seven. Some account of the Administration of 
 
 Indian Districts during the Revolt of the Bengal Army. Demy 8vo. 
 
 6s. 
 The Turks in India. Historical Chapters on the 
 
 Administration of Hindostan by the Chugtai Tartar, Babar, and 
 
 his Descendants. Demy 8vo. 125. 6d. 
 
 COL. G. B. MALLESON, C.S.I. 
 
 Final French Struggles in India and on the Indian 
 
 Seas. Including an Account of the Capture of the Isles of France 
 and Bourbon, and Sketches of the most eminent Foreign Adventurers 
 in India up to the Period of that Capture. With an Appendix 
 containing an Account of the Expedition from India to Egypt in 
 1801. New Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 History of the Indian Mutiny, 1857-1858, com 
 mencing from the close of the Second Volume of Sir John Kaye s 
 History of the Sepoy War. Vol. I. With Map. Demy 8vo. 2os. 
 Vol. II. With 4 Plans. Demy 8vo. 205. Vol. III. With 
 Plans. Demy 8vo. 2os. 
 
 Cabinet Edition. Edited by COLONEL MALLESON. 6 vols. 
 Crown 8vo. 6s. each. 
 
 History Of Afghanistan, from the Earliest Period to the 
 Outbreak of the War of 1878. Second Edition. With Map. Demy 
 8vo. 1 8s. 
 
 London: 13, Waterloo Place, Pall Mall, S.W. 
 
W. H. Allen c^ Cots General Catalogue. 3 
 
 The Decisive Battles of India, from 1746-1849. 
 
 Third Edition. With a Portrait of the Author, a Map, and 4 Plans. 
 Crown 8vo. 75. 6d. 
 
 Herat: The Garden and Granary of Central Asia. 
 
 With Map and Index. Demy 8vo. 8s. 
 
 Founders of the Indian Empire. Clive, Warren 
 
 Hastings, and Wellesley. Vol. I. LORD CLIVE. With Portraits 
 and 4 Plans. Demy Svo. 205. 
 
 MRS. MANNING. 
 
 Ancient and Mediaeval India. Being the History, 
 
 Religion, Laws, Caste, Manners and Customs, Language, Literature, 
 Poetry, Philosophy, Astronomy, Algebra, Medicine, Architecture, 
 Manufactures, Commerce, &c., of the Hindus, taken from their 
 Writings. With Illustrations. 2 vols. Demy Svo. 305. 
 
 REV. G. U. POPE, D.D., Fellow of Madras University. 
 
 Text-Book Of Indian History; with Geographical 
 
 Notes, Genealogical Tables, Examination Questions, and Chronolo 
 gical, Biographical, Geographical, and General Indexes. For the 
 use of Schools, Colleges, and Private Students. Third Edition, 
 thoroughly revised. Fcap. 4to. I2s. 
 
 COLONEL S. RIVETT-CARNAC. 
 
 The Presidential Armies of India. With Con 
 tinuation by the Author of "Our Burmese Wars." Demy Svo. 
 IDS. 6d. 
 
 ROBERT SEWELL, Madras Civil Service. 
 
 Analytical History Of India. From the earliest times 
 to the Abolition of the East India Company in 1858. Post Svo. 
 8s. 
 
 EDWARD THORNTON. 
 
 The History of the British Empire in India. 
 
 Containing a Copious Glossary of Indian Terms, and a Complete 
 Chronological Index of Events, to aid the Aspirant of Public 
 Examinations. Third Edition. With Map. I vol. Demy Svo. 
 
 I2S. 
 
 CAPTAIN LIONEL JAMES TROTTER, late Beng. Fusiliers. 
 
 India under Victoria from 1836 to 1880. 2 vols. 
 
 Demy Svo. 305. 
 
 History Of India. The History of the British Empire in 
 India, from the Appointment of Lord Hardinge to the Death of Lord 
 Canning (1844 to 1862). 2 vols. Demy Svo. 1 6s. each. 
 
 London: 13, Waterloo Place, Pall Mall, S.W. 
 
4 W. H. Allen 6- Co. s General Catalogue. 
 
 ALEXANDER ROGERS (Bombay Civil Service, Retired}. 
 
 The Land Revenue of Bombay. A History of its 
 
 Administration, Rise, and Progress. By ALEXANDER ROGERS 
 (Bombay Civil Service, Retired). 2 vols. 305. Demy 8vo. With 
 1 8 Maps. 
 
 GEORGE ABERIGH-MACKAY. 
 
 Twenty-one Days in India. Being the Tour of Sir 
 
 Ali Baba, K.C.B. Post 8vo. 45. An Illustrated Edition. Demy 
 8vo. IDS. 6d. 
 
 CAPTAIN J. H. LAWRENCE ARCHER, Bengal H. P. 
 
 The Orders of Chivalry, from the Original Statutes of 
 
 the various Orders of Knighthood and other sources of information. 
 With 3 Portraits and 63 Plates. 4to. Coloured, 6 6s. ; Plain, 
 
 MAJOR-GENERAL J. T. BOILEAU. 
 
 A New and Complete Set of Traverse Tables, 
 
 showing the Differences of Latitude and Departures to every Minute 
 of the Quadrant and to Five Places of Decimals. Together with a 
 Table of the Lengths of each Degree of Latitude and corresponding 
 Degree of Longitude from the Equator to the Poles ; with other 
 Tables useful to the Surveyor and Engineer. Fourth Edition, 
 thoroughly revised and corrected by the Author. 1876. Royal Svo. 
 
 I2S. 
 
 REV. T. F. THISTLETON DYER, M.A. 
 English Folk-Lore. Second Edition. Crown Svo. 55. 
 
 /. MORTIMER GRANVILLE, M.D. 
 
 Change as a Mental Restorative. Demy 8vo. is. 
 Nerves and Nerve Troubles. Fcap. 8vo. is. 
 Common Mind Troubles. Fcap. 8vo. is. 
 How to Make the Best of Life. Fcap. 8vo. is. 
 Youth : Its Care and Culture. Post Svo. as. 6d. 
 
 The Secret of a Clear Head. Fcap. Svo. is. 
 The Secret of a Good Memory. Fcap. 8vo. is. 
 Sleep and Sleeplessness. Fcap. Svo. is. 
 
 London: 13, Waterloo Place, Pall Mall, S.W. 
 
W. H. Allen 6^ Co. s General Catalogue. 5 
 
 REV. H. R. HAIVEIS. 
 
 MUSiC and Morals. Thirteenth Edition. With Por 
 traits. Crown 8vo. 7s. 6d. 
 
 My Musical Life. Third Edition. With Illustrations. 
 Crown 8vo. 75. 6d. 
 
 MRS. HA WE IS. 
 
 Chaucer s Beads : A Birthday Book, Diary, and Con 
 cordance of Chaucer s Proverbs or Sooth-saws. Crown Svo, cloth, 
 bevelled edges, gilt, 45. 6d. ; padded morocco, 7s. 6d. 
 
 Byron Birthday Book. In Padded Morocco, rounded 
 corners, gilt edges, boxed, 45. 6d. Cloth, gilt edges, 2s. 6d. 
 
 Watched by the Dead. A Loving Story of Dickens 
 
 Half Told Tale. Boards, is. ; Cloth, is. 6d. 
 
 /. HUNTER, late Hon. Sec. of the British Bee- Keepers Association. 
 
 A Manual Of Bee-Keeping. Containing Practical 
 Information for Rational and Profitable Methods of Bee Manage 
 ment. Full Instructions on Stimulative Feeding, Ligurianising and 
 Queen-raising, with descriptions of the American Comb Foundation, 
 Sectional Supers, and the best Hives and Apiarian Appliances on all 
 systems. With Illustrations. Fourth Edition. Crown 8vo, 35. 6<L 
 
 JOHN H. INGRAM. 
 
 The Haunted Homes and Family Traditions of 
 
 Great Britain. Crown Svo. Illustrated. 73. 6d. 
 The Book Of Knots. Illustrated by 172 Examples, 
 
 showing the manner of making every Knot, Tie, and Splice. 
 By "TOM BOWLING." Third Edition. Crown Svo. 2s. 6d. 
 
 MRS. LANKESTER. 
 Talks about Health : A Book for Boys and Girl* 
 
 Being an Explanation of all the Processes by which Life is 
 sustained. Illustrated. Small Svo. is. 
 
 Health Primers. i. Premature Death. 2. Alcohol. 
 3. Exercise and Training. 4. The House. 5. Personal Appearance. 
 6. Baths and Bathing. 7. The Skin. 8. The Heart. 9. The 
 Nerrous System, 10. Health in Schools. Demy i6mo. is. each. 
 
 London: 13, Waterloo Place, Pall Mall, S.W. 
 
6 W. H. Allen 6^ Co s General Catalogue. 
 
 JAMES IRVINE LUPTON and JAMES M. KYRLE LUPTON. 
 
 The Pedestrian s Record. To which is added a 
 
 Description of the External Human Form. Crown 8vo. With 
 Anatomical Plates. 35. 6d. 
 
 DAVID THOMSON. 
 
 Lunar and Horary Tables. For New and Concise 
 
 Methods of Performing the Calculations necessary for ascertaining the 
 Longitude by Lunar Observations, or Chronometers ; with directions 
 for acquiring a knowledge of the Principal Fixed Stars and rinding 
 the Latitude of them. Sixty-fifth Edition. Royal 8vo. ios. 
 
 WALFORD, M.A., &c., &>c. 
 
 Holidays in Home Counties. With numerous Illus 
 trations. Crown 8vo. 55. 
 
 Pleasant Days in Pleasant Places. Illustrated with 
 
 numerous Woodcuts. Second Edition. Crown 8vo. 5s. 
 
 flDttfiarg, 
 
 CAPTAIN J. H. LAWRENCE ARCHER, Bengal H. P. 
 
 Commentaries on the Punjaub Campaign 
 
 1848-49, including some additions to the History of the Second 
 Sikh War, from original sources. Crown 8vo. 8s. 
 
 Army and Navy Calendar. Being a Compendium of 
 
 General Information relating to the Army, Navy, Militia, and 
 Volunteers. Published Annually. Demy 8vo. 2s. 6d. 
 
 LIEUT.-GENL. SIR W. BELL A IRS, K.C.M.G. 
 
 The Military Career. A Guide to young Officers, 
 
 Army Candidates, and Parents. Crown 8vo. 53. 
 
 CAPTAIN BELLE W. 
 Memoirs Of a Griffin ; or, a Cadet s First Year in 
 
 India. Illustrated from Designs by the Author. A New Edition. 
 Crown 8vo. 35. 6d. 
 
 The Late CAPTAIN E. BUCKLE, Assis. Adjut.-Gcn., Bengal 
 
 Artillery. 
 
 Bengal Artillery. A Memoir of the Services of the 
 Bengal Artillery from the formation of the Corps. Edited by Sir J . W. 
 KAYE. Demy 8vo. IDS. 
 
 MAJOR J. A. S. COLQUHOUN, R.A. 
 
 With the Kurrum Force in the Cabul Campaign 
 
 Of 1878-79. With Illustrations and 2 Maps. Demy 8vo. i6s. 
 London: 13, Waterloo Place, Pall Mall, S.W. 
 
IV. H. Allen & Go s General Catalogue. 7 
 
 MAJOR-GENERAL SIR V. EYRE, K.C.SJ., C.B. 
 
 The Kabul Insurrection of 1841-42. Revised and 
 
 corrected from Lieut. Eyre s Original Manuscript. Edited by 
 COLONEL G. B. MALLESON, C.S.I. With Map and Illustrations. 
 Crown 8vo. 95. 
 
 GENERAL GORDON, C.B. 
 
 Events in the Taeping Rebellion. Being reprints 
 
 of MSS. Copied by General Gordon, C.B., in his own handwriting; 
 with Monograph, Introduction, and Notes. By A. EGMONT HAKE, 
 Author of " The Story of Chinese Gordon." With Portrait and Map. 
 Demy 8vo. i8s. 
 
 F. V. GREENE, Lieut. U.S. Army, and lately Military Attache to the 
 U. S. Legation at St. Petersburg. 
 
 The Russian Army and its Campaigns in Turkey 
 
 in 1877-1 878. Second Edition. Royal 8vo. 325. 
 
 Sketches of Army Life in Russia. Crown 8vo. 95. 
 
 COL. G. B. MALLESON, C.S.I. 
 
 Battle-fields of Germany. With Maps and Plan. 
 
 Demy Svo. i6s. 
 
 Ambushes and Surprises: Being a Description of 
 some of the most famous Instances of the Leading into Ambush and 
 the Surprise of Armies, from the time of Hannibal to the Period of 
 the Indian Mutiny. With a Portrait of General Lord Mark Kerr, 
 K.C.B. Demy Svo. i8s. 
 
 Campaigns in Virginia, 1861-2. Royal 8vo. Paper 
 
 Covers. With Maps. 35. 6d. By T. MILLER MAGUIRE, M.A., 
 LL.D. 
 
 Modern Tactics. By CAPT. H. R. GALL, late 5th 
 Fusiliers. 2 vols. Text and Plates. Royal Svo. IDS. 6d. 
 
 Volunteer Artillery Drill Book. By CAPT. W. 
 
 BROOKE HOGGAN, R.A., Adjutant ist Shropshire and Stafford 
 shire V.A. Square i6mo. 2s. 
 
 Garrison Gunner (Regular, Militia, and Volunteer), his 
 Equipment and Drills other than Artillery Exercises. By CAPT. 
 H. C. C. D. SIMPSON, R.A. 2s. 
 
 Manual of Volunteer Position Artillery. Second 
 
 Edition. By CAPT. H. C. C. D. SIMPSON, R.A. Fcap. 2s. 6d. 
 
 Celebrated Naval and Military Trials. By PETER 
 
 BURKE. Post Svo. IDS. 6d. 
 
 London: 13, Waterloo Place, Pall Mall, S.W. 
 
8 W. H. Allen & Co. s General Catalogue. 
 
 Single -Stick Exercise of the Aldershot 
 
 Gymnasium, Paper Cover. Fcap. 8vo. 6d. 
 
 Notes on Military Topography. By MAJOR 
 
 WILLOUGHBY VERNER, Rifle Brigade. With Plans. Royal 
 8vo. 55. 
 
 Rapid Field Sketching and Reconnaissance. 
 
 By MAJOR WILLOUGHBY VERNER. With Plans. Royal 8vo. 
 7s. 6d. 
 
 The First British Rifle Corps. Crown 8vo. With 
 
 Coloured Frontispiece. 53. 
 
 W. a CONN OR MORRIS. 
 
 Great Commanders of Modern Times, and the 
 
 Campaign Of 1815. Tureune Marlborough Frederick the 
 Great Napoleon Wellington Moltke. With Illustrations and 
 Plans. Royal 8vo. 2 is. 
 
 The Nation in Arms. From the German of Lieut,-Col. 
 Baron von der Goltz. Translated by PHILIP A. ASHWORTH. 
 Demy 8vo. 155. 
 
 JOHN AUGUSTUS ffSHEA. 
 
 Military Mosaics. A Set of Tales and Sketches on 
 Soldierly Themes. Crown 8vo. 55. 
 
 COL. F. A. WHINYATES, late R.H.A., formerly commanding 
 the Battery. 
 
 From Coruna to Sevastopol. The History of "C" 
 
 Battery, "A" Brigade, late "C" Troop, Royal Horse Artillery. 
 "With succession of Officers from its formation to the present time. 
 With 3 Maps. Demy 8vo. 143. 
 
 The Young Soldier in India : His Life and 
 
 Prospects. By H. S. Crown 8vo. 33. 6d. 
 
 HARRY WILLIAMS, R.N. (Chief Inspector of Machinery}. 
 Dedicated, by permission, to Admiral H.R.H. the Duke of Edinburgh. 
 
 The Steam Navy of England : Past, Present, and 
 
 Future. Contents : Part I. Our Seamen ; Part II. Ships and 
 Machinery; Part III. Naval Engineering; Part IV. Miscellaneous, 
 Summary, Conclusion. Dedicated, by permission, to H.R.H. the 
 Duke of Edinburgh. By HARRY WILLIAMS, R.N. Medium Svo. 
 I2s. 6d. 
 
 London: 13, Waterloo Place, Pall Mall, S.W. 
 
W. H. Allen & Co. s General Catalogs 9 
 
 CAPTAIN H. W. CLARKE. 
 
 The Sextant. Small 4to. 23. 
 
 REAR-ADMIRAL P. H. CO LOME. 
 
 Naval Warfare, its Ruling Principles and Practice His 
 torically Treated. Royal 8vo. 2 is. 
 
 REAR-ADMIRAL H. F. W. INGRAM. 
 Hearts Of Oak. 4to. Illustrated. 155. 
 
 R. BYRNE. 
 
 James Naval History. Epitomised by ROBERT 
 
 O BYRNE, F.R.G.S., &c. Crown 8vo. 73. 6d. 
 REV. G. SMALL, Interpreter to the Strangers Home for Asiatics. 
 
 A Dictionary of Naval Terms, English and 
 
 Hindustani. For the use of Nautical Men trading to India, &c, 
 Crown 8vo. 2s. 6d. 
 
 Sport 
 
 G. P. SANDERSON, Officer in Charge oj the Government 
 
 Elephant Keddahs. 
 
 Thirteen Years among the Wild Beasts of India; 
 
 their Haunts and Habits, from Personal Observation. With aa 
 account of the Modes of Capturing and Taming Wild Elephants. 
 With 21 full-page Illustrations and 3 Maps. Fourth Edition. 
 Fcap. 4to. I2s. 
 
 LIEUT. G.J. YOUNGHUSBAND, Queen s Own Corps of Guides. 
 
 Polo in India. Crown Svo. 25. 
 
 COLONEL PARKER GILL MO RE (" Ubique"). 
 
 Encounters with Wild Beasts. By COLONEL 
 
 PARKER GILLMORE. Third Edition. Crown Svo. Illustrated. 
 35. 6d. 
 
 11 Mr. Gillmore has well earned his nem dc plume of Ubique. . . . Contains twenty- 
 cne chapters on the varieties of game to be found in the northern states of America, and 
 they form a useful and interesting guide to intending visitors." Land and Water. 
 
 BY THE SAME AUTHOR. 
 Prairie and Forest: A Guide to the Field Sports of 
 
 North America. Second Edition. Crown Svo. Illustrated. 35. 6d. 
 London: 13, Waterloo Place, Pall Mall, S.W* 
 
io W. H. Allen 6^ Go s General Catalogue. 
 
 ALBERT ALB ERG. 
 
 The Floral King; a Life of Linnaeus. Crown 8vo. 
 With Portraits and Illustrations. 55. 
 
 SYED AMEER ALT, M.A., C.I.E., Barrister-at-Law. 
 
 The Life and Teachings of Mohammed; or, tlie 
 
 Spirit of Islam. Demy 8vo. i8s. 
 
 MONSEIGNEUR BESS ON. 
 
 Frederick Francis Xayier de Merode, Minister 
 
 and Almoner to Pius IX. His Life and Works. Translated by Lady 
 Herbert. Crown Svo. 73. 6d. 
 
 Biographies of Great Composers: 
 
 Handel. By J. CUTHBERT HADDEN. With Portrait. Fcap. 
 is. 6d. 
 
 Mendelssohn. By J. CUTHBERT HADDEN. With Portrait. 
 Fcap. is. 6d. 
 
 CAPTAIN MONTAGU BURROWS, R.N., Retired List, Chichtlt 
 Professor of Modern History in the University of Oxford. 
 
 Life Of Edward Lord Hawke, Admiral of the Fleet, 
 
 Vice-Admiral of Great Britain, and First Lord of the Admiralty from 
 1766 to 1771. Demy Svo. 2is. 
 
 MRS. E. F. CHAPMAN. 
 
 Sketches of some Distinguished Indian Women. 
 
 Crown Svo. 2s. 6d. 
 
 ALEXANDRE DUMAS. 
 
 Memoirs of Alexandre Dumas. (Pere.) Being Ex 
 tracts from the First Five Volumes of Mes Memoires. Selected and 
 Translated by A. F. DAVIDSON, M.A. 2 vols. Crown Svo. With 
 Portrait. 12s. 
 
 HENRY MARION DURAND, C.S.I., Bengal Civil Service, 
 Barrister-at-Law. 
 
 The Life of Major-General Sir Henry Marion 
 
 Durand, K. C.S.I., C.B., of the Royal Engineers. 2 vols. 
 Demy Svo. 423. 
 
 London: 13, Waterloo Place, Pall Mall, S.W. 
 
W. H. Allen 6- Co. s General Catalogue. 
 
 1 1 
 
 EMINENT WOMEN SERIES. Edited by JOHN H, 
 INGRAM. Crown 8vo. 35. 6d. each. 
 
 VOLUMES ALREADY ISSUED. 
 
 George Eliot. 
 Emily Bronte. 
 George Sand. 
 Mary Lamb. 
 Maria Edgeworth. 
 Margaret Fuller. 
 Elizabeth Fry. 
 Countess of Albany. 
 Harriet Martineau. 
 
 Mary Wollstonecraft 
 Godwin. 
 
 Rachel. 
 
 Madame Roland. 
 Susanna Wesley. 
 Margaret of .Navarre. 
 Mrs. Siddons. 
 Madame de Stael. 
 Hannah More. 
 
 Elizabeth Barrett 
 Browning. 
 
 Jane Austen. 
 Mary Shelley. 
 
 By MATHILDE BLIND. 
 
 ,, A. MARY F. ROBINSON. 
 
 ,, BERTHA THOMAS. 
 
 ,, ANNE GILCHRIST. 
 
 ,, HELEN ZIMMERN. 
 
 ,, JULIA WARD HOWE. 
 
 ,, MRS. E. R. PITMAN. 
 
 ,, VERNON LEE. 
 
 ,, MRS. FEN WICK MILLER. 
 
 ,, ELIZABETH ROBINS PENNELL. 
 
 ,, MRS. A. KENNARD. 
 
 ,, MATHILDE BLIND. 
 
 ,, ELIZA CLARKE. 
 
 ,, MARY A. ROBINSON. 
 
 MRS. A. KENNARD. 
 
 ,, BELLA DUFFY. 
 
 ,, CHARLOTTE M. YONGE. 
 
 ,, JOHN H. INGRAM. 
 
 ,, MRS. CHARLES MALDEN. 
 
 , MRS. ROSETTI. 
 
 SIR J. W. KA YE. 
 
 Lives of Indian Officers. 2 vols. Crown 8vo. 6s. each. 
 
 COL. W. F. B. LAURIE. 
 
 Sketches of some Distinguished Anglo-Indians. 
 
 First and Second Series. Crown Svo. 7s. 6d. each. 
 LADY LOGIN. 
 
 Login, Sir John and Duleep Singh. With 
 
 Introduction by COLONEL G. B. MALLESON, C.S.I. Demy Svo. 
 Portrait and Map. 1 8s. 
 
 London: 13, Waterloo Place, Pall Mall, S.W. 
 
t2 W. H. Alien 6 Co. s General Catalogue. 
 
 STATESMEN SERIES. Edited by LLOYD C. 
 SANDERS. 
 
 A collection of Brief Biographical Studies of Great Men who hare 
 influenced the Political History of the World. Crown 8vo. 2s. 6d. 
 each. 
 
 Lord Beaconsfield. By T. E. KEBBEL. 
 Viscount Palmerston. By L. C. SANDERS. 
 Daniel O Connell. By J. A. HAMILTON. 
 Prince Metternich. By COL. G. B. MALLESON, C.S.L 
 Sir Robert Peel. By F. C. MONTAGUE. 
 The Prince Consort. By Miss YONGK. 
 AHenry Grattan. By ROBERT DUNLOP. 
 
 "Marquis Wellesley, K.G. By COLONEL G. B. MALLESON, C.S.I. 
 Viscount Bolingbroke. By ARTHUR HASSALL, M.A. 
 \ Lord Derby. By T. E. KEBBEL. 
 Marquis of Dalhousie. By CAPT. L. J. TROTTER. 
 Charles James Fox. By H. O. WAKEMAN. 
 iLeon Gambetta. By FRANK T. MARZIALS. 
 
 CHARLES RATHBONE LOW. 
 
 Major-General Sip Frederick S. Roberts, Bart., 
 
 V.C., G.C.B., C.I.E., R.A. : A Memoir. With Portrait. Demy 
 8vo. iSs. 
 
 MISS K. O MEARA. 
 
 iLife of Thomas Grant, First Bishop ofSouthwark. 
 
 Third .Edition. Crown 8vo. 55. 
 
 MAJOR THOMAS SKINNER, C.M.G. 
 
 Fifty Years in Ceylon. An Autobiography. Edited by 
 his Daughter. Demy 8vo, with Portrait. 155. 
 
 CAPTAIN LIONEL JAMES TROTTER, late Beng. Fusiliers. 
 
 LOPd Lawrence. A Sketch of his Career. Fcap. 8vo. 
 is. 6d. 
 
 Warren Hastings, a Biography. Crown 8vo. 95. 
 London: 13, Waterloo Place, Pall Mall, S.W. 
 
W. H. Allen c^ Co?s General Catalogue. 13 
 
 ffioofcs of IReference* 
 
 Book Of Dignities, containing lists of the Official 
 
 Personages of the British Empire, Civil, Diplomatic, Heraldic, 
 Judicial, Ecclesiastical, Municipal, Naval, and Military, from the 
 Earliest Periods to the Present Time, together with the Sovereigns 
 and Rulers of the World from the Foundation of their respective 
 States ; the Orders of Knighthood of the United Kingdom and 
 India, and numerous other lists. Founded on Beatson s "Political 
 Index" (1806). Remodelled and brought down to 1851 by the late 
 JOSEPH HAYDN. Continued to the Present Time, with numerous 
 Additional Lists, and an Index to the entire Work, by HORACE 
 OCKERBY, Solicitor of the Supreme Court. Demy Svo. i us. 6d. 
 
 " It is probably the most complete official directory in existence, containing about 
 1,300 different lists." Times. 
 
 " The value of such a book can hardly be over-rated." Saturday Review. 
 
 Cooper s Hill Royal Indian Engineering College, 
 
 Calendar of. Published (by Authority) in January each year. Demy 
 Svo. 55. 
 
 London in 1893. Its Suburbs and Environs. Illustrated 
 
 with 20 Bird s Eye Views of the Principal Streets, and Maps. Ninth 
 year of publication. Revised and Enlarged. Crown Svo. 2s. 
 
 India List, the Civil and Military. Issued half- 
 yearly by permission of the Secretary of State for India in Council. 
 Demy Svo. Cloth, IDS. 6d.; bound, 123. 
 
 A Gazetteer of the Territories under the Govern 
 ment Of the Viceroy Of India. Revised and Edited by SIR 
 ROPER LETHBRIDGE, C.I.E., formerly Press Commissioner in India, 
 c., and ARTHUR N. WOLLASTON, C.I.E., of H.M. s Indian (Home) 
 Civil Service, Translator of the " Anvar-i-Sahaili." Demy Svo. 
 28s. 
 
 The Royal Kalendar for 1893. AND COURT AND 
 
 CITY REGISTER FOR ENGLAND, SCOTLAND, IRELAND, AND THE 
 COLONIES. Strongly bound, with Index. 55. 
 
 London: 13, Waterloo Place, Pall Mall, S.W. 
 
14 W. H Allen 6 Co^s General Catalogue. 
 
 fiction. 
 
 IRVING MONTAGU (late Special War Correspondent "Illustrated 
 London News "). 
 
 Absolutely True. A Novel. By IRVING MONTAGU, 
 
 late Special War Correspondent " Illustrated London News." With 
 numerous Illustrations by the Author. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 JULIAN HAWTHORNE. 
 
 An American Monte Cristo. A Romance. By 
 
 JULIAN HAWTHORNE. 2 vols. Crown 8vo. 2 is. Cheaper Edition, 
 in one volume, price 6s., in the press. 
 
 FERGUS HUME. 
 
 The Harlequin Opal. A Romance. By FERGUS HUME, 
 Author of " The Island of Fantasy." Crown 8vo. 3 vols. 315. 6d, 
 
 SURGEON-MAJOR H. M. GREENHOW. 
 
 Crown 8vo, 6s. 
 The BOW Of Fate. A Story of Indian Life. 
 
 MAY BROTHERHOOD. 
 Crown 8vo, 6s. 
 
 Caverton Manor; or, Foreshadowed. 
 
 LOUISA ALCOTT. 
 Little Women. 200 Illustrations. 4to. i8s. 
 
 LEWIS ARMYTAGE. 
 The Blue Mountains. Fairy Tales. Crown 8vo. 55. 
 
 GEOFFREY DRAGE. 
 
 Cyril, a Romantic Novel. Fifth Edition. Crown 8vo. 
 35. 6d. 
 
 REV. G. R. GLEIG. 
 
 With the Harrises Seventy Years Ago. Crown 
 
 8vo. Boards. 2s. 
 ARCHER P. CROUCH, Author of" On a Surf-Bound Coast: 
 
 2 VOls., 2 IS. 
 
 Captain Enderis, First West African Regiment. 
 
 A Novel. 
 
 London: 13, Waterloo Place, Pall Mall, S.W. 
 
W. H. Allen & Co. s General Catalogue. 15 
 
 PERCY M. THORNTON. 
 
 Foreign Secretaries of the Nineteenth Century. 
 
 Lord Grenville, Lord Hawkesbury, Lord Harrowby, Lord Mulgrave, 
 C. J. Fox, Lord Howick, George Canning, Lord Bathurst, Lord 
 Wellesley (together with estimate of his Indian Rule by COL. G. B. 
 MALLESON, C.S.I.), Lord Castlereagh, Lord Dudley, Lord Aberdeen, 
 and Lord Palmerston. With 10 Portraits and a View showing 
 interior of the old House of Lords. Second Edition. 2 vols. 
 Demy Svo. 325. 6d. 
 
 Vol. III. Second Edition. With Portraits. Demy Svo. i8s. 
 
 Harrow School and its Surroundings. Maps and 
 
 Plates. Demy Svo. 155. 
 
 Science. 
 
 R. BRAITHWAITE, M.D., F.L.S., &c. 
 
 The Sphagnaceee, or Peat Mosses of Europe and North 
 America. Illustrated with 29 Plates, coloured by hand. Imp. Svo. 
 255. 
 
 PROFESSOR BRANDE, D.C.L., F.R.S., &c. t and 
 PROFESSOR A. S. TAYLOR, M.D., F.R.S., &c. 
 
 A Manual of Chemistry. Fcap. 8vo. 900 pages. 
 
 12s. 6d. 
 
 DR. BRAND IS, Inspector- General of Forests to the Government of 
 India. 
 
 The Forest Flora of North-Western and Central 
 
 India. Text Demy Svo, and Plates Royal 4to. 2 iSs. 
 
 B. CARRINGTON, M.D., F.R.S. 
 
 British Hepaticae. Containing Descriptions and Figures 
 of the Native Species of Jungermannia, Marchantia, and Anthoceros. 
 Imp. Svo, sewed, Parts I to 4, each 2s. 6d. plain ; 33. 6d. coloured. 
 
 M. C. COOKE, M.A., LL.D. 
 
 The British Fungi : A Plain and Easy Account of. 
 With Coloured Plates of 40 Species. Fifth Edition, Revised. Crown 
 Svo. 6s. 
 
 British Hepaticae. Sewed, 8d. 
 
 London: 13, Waterloo Place, Pall Mall, S.IV. 
 
1 6 W. H. Allen & Go s General Catalogue. 
 
 RUSt, Smut, Mildew, and Mould. An Introduction 
 to the Study of Microscopic Fungi. Illustrated with 269 Coloured 
 Figures by J. E. Sowerby. Fourth Edition, with Appendix of New 
 Species. Crown 8vo, 6s. 
 
 A Manual of Structural Botany. Revised Edition, 
 
 with New Chemical Notation. Illustrated with 200 Woodcuts. 
 Twenty-fifth Thousand. 32mo. is. 
 
 A Manual of Botanic Terms. New Edition, greatly 
 
 Enlarged. Illustrated with over 300 Woodcuts. Fcap. 8vo. 2s. 6d. 
 
 M. C. COOKE, M.A., A.L.S., et L. QUELET, M.D., O.A., 
 Inst. et Sorb. Laur. 
 
 Clavis Synoptica Hymenomycetum Europaeorutru 
 
 Fcap. 8vo. 7s. 6d. 
 
 BARON CUVIER. 
 
 The Animal Kingdom. With considerable Additions by 
 W. B. CARPENTER, M.D., F.R.S., and J. O. WESTWOOD, F.L.S. 
 New Edition, Illustrated with 500 Engravings on Wood and 36 
 Coloured Plates. Imp. 8vo. 2 is. 
 
 THOMAS DA VIES. 
 
 The Preparation and Mounting of Microscopic 
 
 Objects. New Edition, greatly enlarged and brought up to the 
 Present Time by JOHN MATTHEWS, M.D., F.R.M.S., Vice- President 
 of the Quekett Microscopical Club. Fcap. 8vo. 2s. 6d. 
 
 GEORGE E. DAVIS, F.R.M.S., F.C.S., F.I.C., cVr. 
 
 Practical Microscopy. Illustrated with 257 Woodcuts 
 
 and a Coloured Frontispiece. Demy 8vo. 7s. 6d. 
 
 COL. HEBER DRUR Y, late Madras Staff Corps. 
 
 The Useful Plants of India, with Notices of their chief 
 
 value in Commerce, Medicine, and the Arts. Second Edition. Royal 
 8vo. 1 6s. 
 
 London: 13, Waterloo Place, Pall Mall, S.W. 
 
W. H. Allen & CoSs General Catalogue. 17 
 
 SIR JOHN F. W. HERSCHEL, Bart., K.H., <5rV., Mtmber 0} 
 the Institute of France, <SrV. 
 
 Popular Lectures on Scientific Subjects. Crown 
 
 8vo. 6s. 
 
 SIR W. J. HOOKER, F.R.S., and J. G. BAKER, F.L.S. 
 Synopsis Filicum; or, a Synopsis of all Known Ferns, 
 
 including the Osmundacese, Schizseacese, Marratiscese, and Ophio- 
 glossacese (chiefly derived from the Kew Herbarium) accompanied by 
 Figures representing the essential Characters of each genus. Second 
 Edition brought up to the present time. Coloured Plates. Demy 8vo. 
 i 8s. 
 
 W. SA VILLE - KENT, F.L.S. t F.Z.S., F.R.M.S., formerly 
 Assistant in the Nat. Hist. Department of the British Museum. 
 
 A Manual Of the Infusoria. Including a Description 
 of the Flagellate, Ciliate, and Tentaculiferous Protozoa, British and 
 Foreign, and an Account of the Organisation and Affinities of the 
 Sponges. With numerous Illustrations. 3 vols. Super Royal 8vo. 
 
 S. KURZ. 
 
 Forest Flora of British Burma. 2 vols. 8vo. ^i ios> 
 
 MRS. LANKESTER. 
 
 British Ferns : Their Classification, Arrangement of 
 Genera, Structures and Functions, Directions for Out-door and 
 In-door Cultivation, &c. Illustrated with Coloured Figures of 
 all the Species. New and Enlarged Edition. Cr. 8vo. 35. 6d. 
 
 Wild Flowers Worth Notice : A Selection of some 
 
 of our Native Plants which are most attractive for their Beauty, 
 Uses, or Associations. With 108 Coloured Figures by J. E. 
 SOWERBY. New Edition. Crown Svo. 55. 
 
 London: 13, Waterloo Place, Pall Mall, S.W. 
 
1 8 W. H. Allen 6- Co. s General Catalogue. 
 
 E. LANKESTER, M.D., F.R.S., F.L.S. 
 
 Our Food. Illustrated. New Edition. Crown 8vo. 45. 
 Half- Hours with the Microscope. With 250 
 
 Illustrations. Seventeenth Thousand, enlarged. Fcap. 8vo, plain, 
 2s. 6d. ; coloured, 43. 
 
 Practical Physiology : A School Manual of Health. 
 Numerous Woodcuts. Sixth Edition. Fcap. 8vo. 2s. 6d. 
 
 The Uses Of Animals in Relation to the Industry of 
 
 Man. Illustrated. New Edition. Crown Svo. 43. 
 
 HOW to Choose a Microscope. By a Demonstrator. 
 With 80 Illustrations. Demy Svo. is. 
 
 JOHANN NA VE. 
 
 The Collector s Handy-Book of Algae, Diatoms, 
 
 DesmidS, Fungi, Lichens, Mosses, &C. Translated and 
 Edited by the Rev. W. W. SPICER, M.A. Illustrated with 114 
 Woodcuts. Fcap. Svo. 2s. 6d. 
 
 Notes on Collecting and Preserving Natural 
 
 History Objects. Edited by J. E. TAYLOR, F.L.S., F.G.S., 
 Editor of " Science Gossip." With Numerous Illustrations. Crown 
 Svo. 33. 6d. 
 
 RICHARD A. PROCTOR, B.A., F.R.A.S. 
 Half- Hours With the Stars. Nineteenth Thousand. 
 
 Demy 4to. 33. 6d. 
 
 Half-Hours with the Telescope. Illustrated. Fcap. 
 
 Svo. 2s. 6d. 
 
 Other Suns than Ours. A Series of Essays on Suns, 
 Old, Young, and Dead, Science Gleanings, &c. Second Edition. 
 Crown Svo. 6s. 
 
 The Southern Skies. A Plain and Easy Guide to the 
 Constellations of the Sou-thern Hemisphere, &c. True for every 
 year. 4to, with 12 Maps. 53. 
 
 MARIAN S. RIDLEY. 
 
 A Pocket Guide to British Ferns. Fcap. 8vo. 25. 6d. 
 
 R. RIMMER, F.L.S. 
 
 The Land and Fresh Water Shells of the British 
 
 Isles. Illustrated with Photographs and 3 Lithographs, containing 
 figures of all the principal Species. Crown Svo. IDS. 6d. 
 
 London: 13, Waterloo Place, Pall Mail, S.W* 
 
W. H. Allen 6 Co?s General Catalogue. 19 
 
 /. SMITH, A.L.S. 
 Ferns: British and Foreign. Fourth Edition, revised 
 
 and greatly enlarged, with New Figures, &c. Crown Svo. 75. 6d. 
 WORTHINGTON SMITH, F.L.S. 
 
 Mushrooms and Toadstools: How to distinguish 
 
 easily the Difference between Edible and Poisonous Fungi. Two 
 Large Sheets, containing Figures of 29 Edible and 31 Poisonous 
 Species, drawn the natural size, and Coloured from Living Specimens. 
 With descriptive letterpress, 6s. ; on canvas, in cloth case for pocket, 
 IDs. 6d. ; on canvas, on rollers and varnished, los. 6d. The 
 letterpress may be had separately, with key-plates of figures, is. 
 
 J. E. TAYLOR, F.L.S., F.G.S., &c. 
 
 The Aquarium : Its Inhabitants, Structure, and Manage 
 ment. With 238 Woodcuts. Second Edition. Crown Svo. 35. 6d. 
 
 Flowers : Their Origin, Shapes, Perfumes, and Colours. 
 Illustrated with 32 Coloured Figures by Sowerby, and 161 Woodcuts. 
 Second Edition. Crown Svo. 75. 6d. 
 
 Nature s Bye-paths : A Series of Recreative Papers in 
 Natural History. Crown Svo. 2s. 6d. 
 
 Half-Hours at the Seaside. Illustrated with 250 
 
 Woodcuts. Fourth Edition. Crown Svo. 2s. 6d. 
 
 Half- Hours in the Green Lanes. Illustrated with 
 
 300 Woodcuts. Fifth Edition. Crown Svo. 2s. 6d. 
 G. H. KINAHAN. 
 
 A Handy Book of Rock Names. Fcap. 8vo, cloth. 45. 
 
 The Late EDWARD NEWMAN, F.Z.S. 
 
 British Butterflies and Moths. With over 800 
 
 Illustrations. Super Royal Svo. Cloth gilt. 255. 
 
 The above Work may also be had in Two Volumes, sold separately. Vol. I., 
 Butterflies, 75. 6d.; Vol. II., Moths, aos. 
 
 MARY A. PRATTEN. 
 
 My Hundred Swiss Flowers. With a Short Account 
 
 of Swiss Ferns. With 60 Illustrations. Crown Svo, 125. 6d. ; 
 coloured, 253. 
 
 London: 13, Waterloo Place, Pall Mall, S.W. 
 
20 W. H. Allen 6- Co. s General Catalogue. 
 
 travel 
 
 CAPTAIN JAMES ABBOTT. 
 
 Narrative of a Journey from Herat to Khiva, 
 
 MOSCOW, and St. Petersburg during the late Russian 
 Invasion of Khiva. With Map and Portrait. 2 vols. Demy 8vo. 
 245. 
 
 W. F. AINSWORTH, M.D. 
 
 The Karun River. An opening to British Commerce. 
 Crown 8vo. 45. 6d. 
 
 S. BARING-GOULD, M.A., Author of " Mehulah," &c. 
 
 In Troubadour Land. A Ramble in Provence and 
 Languedoc. Medium 8vo. With Illustrations by J. E. Rogers. 
 I2s. 6d. 
 
 F. O. BUCKLAND. 
 
 Health Springs of Germany and Austria. Crown 
 
 8vo. 2s. 6d. 
 
 GEORGE DOBSON. 
 
 Russia s Railway Advance into Central Asia. 
 
 Notes of a Journey from St. Petersburg to Samarkand. Crown 8vo. 
 Illustrated. 75. 6d. 
 
 Farthest East and South and West. By an Anglo- 
 Indian Globe Trotter. Illustrated. Demy 8vo. 153. 
 
 HERBERT TUNIUS HARDWICKE, M.D., &c. 
 
 Health Resorts & Spas; or Climatic and Hygienic 
 Treatment of Disease. Fcap. 8vo. 2s. 6d. 
 
 MAJOR S. LEIGH HUNT, Madras Army, and ALEX. S. KENNY, 
 
 M.R.C.S,E., A.K.C., Senior Demonstrator of Anatomy 
 
 at Kings College, London. 
 
 On Duty under a Tropical Sun. Being some Prac 
 tical Suggestions for the Maintenance of Health and Bodily Comfort, 
 and the Treatment of Simple Diseases ; with remarks on Clothing 
 and Equipment. Second Edition. Crown 8vo. 43. 
 
 London: 13, Waterloo Place, Pall Mall, S.W. 
 
W. H. Allen 6 Go s General Catalogue. 21 
 
 Tropical Trials. A Handbook for Women in the Tropics. 
 Crown 8vo. 7s. 6d. 
 
 H. C. IRWIN, B.A., Oxon, Bengal Civil Service. 
 
 The Garden Of India; or, Chapters on Oudh History 
 and Affairs. Demy Svo. 125. 
 
 E. F. KNIGHT, Author of " The Cruise of the Falcon! 
 
 The Falcon in the Baltic: A Voyage from London to 
 Copenhagen in a Three-Tonner. "With 10 full-page Illustrations. 
 New Edition. Crown Svo. 35. 6d. 
 
 STANLEY LANE-POOLE, Laureat dt tlnstitut de France. 
 
 Studies in a Mosque. Demy Svo. 123. 
 
 COL. T. H. LEWIN, Dep. Comm. of Hill Tracts. 
 
 Indian Frontier Life. A Fly on the Wheel, or 
 
 HOW I helped to govern India. Map and Illustrations. Demy 
 Svo. 1 8s. 
 
 T. W. M. LUND, M.A., Chaplain to the School for the Blind, 
 Liverpool. 
 
 Como and Italian Lake Land. With 3 Maps, and 1 1 
 
 Illustrations by Miss Jessie Macgregor. Crown Svo. IDS. 6d. 
 COL. C. M. MACGREGOR, C.S.I., C.I.E., Bengal Staff Corps. 
 
 Narrative of a Journey through the Province of 
 Khorassan and on the N.W. Frontier of Afghanistan in 
 1875. With Maps and Numerous Illustrations. 2 vols. Svo. 303. 
 
 Wanderings in Balochistan. With Illustrations and 
 
 Map. Demy Svo. iSs. 
 
 C. R. MARKHAM. 
 
 Narrative of the Mission of George Bogle to 
 Tibet, and the Journey of Thomas Manning to Lhasa. 
 Demy Svo. i is. 
 
 London: 13, Waterloo Place, Pall Mall, S.W . 
 
22 W. H. Allen & Co. s General Catalogue. 
 
 CHARLES MARVIN. 
 
 The Region of the Eternal Fire. An Account of 
 
 a Journey to the Caspian Region in 1883. New Edition. Maps 
 and Illustrations. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 The Russians at Merv and Herat, and their 
 
 Power Of Invading India. Map and Illustrations. Demy 
 8vo. 243. 
 
 The REV. SAMUEL MATEER, of the London Missionary Society. 
 
 Native Life in Travancore. Illustrations and Map. 
 
 Demy 8vo. i8s. 
 
 CHARLES L. NORRIS-NEWMAN, Special Correspondent of the 
 London "Standard" 
 
 With the Boers in the Transvaal and Orange 
 Free State in 1880-81. With Maps. Demy 8vo. 143. 
 
 In Zululand, with the British throughout the War 
 
 Of 1879. With Maps. Demy Svo. i6s. 
 
 EDWARD ROPER, F.R.G.S. 
 
 By Track and Trail. A Journey through Canada. 
 Demy Svo. With Numerous Original Sketches by the Author. l8s. 
 
 SIR RICHARD TEMPLE, BART., M.P., G.C.S.I., &c. 
 
 Journals in Hyderabad, Kashmir, Sikkim, and 
 
 Nepal. Edited, with Introductions, by his Son, CAPTAIN R. C. 
 TEMPLE, Bengal Staff Corps, &c. 2 vols., with Chromo-lithographs, 
 Maps, and other Illustrations. 325. 
 
 Palestine Illustrated. With 32 Coloured Plates, re 
 produced by chromo-lithography from the Author s Original Paintings. 
 Imperial Svo. 315. 6d. 
 
 S. WELLS WILLIAMS, LL.D., Professor of the Chinese 
 Language and Literature at Yale College. 
 
 The Middle Kingdom. A Survey of the Geography, 
 Government, Literature, Social Life, Arts, and History of the 
 Chinese Empire and its Inhabitants. Revised Edition, with 74 
 Illustrations and a New Map of the Empire. 2 vols. Demy 
 Svo. 423. 
 
 London: 13, Waterloo Place, Pall Mall, S.W. 
 
W. H. Allen c^ Go s General Catalogue. 
 
 LIEUT. G.J. YOUNGHUSBAND, Queen s Own Corps of Guides. 
 
 Eighteen Hundred Miles in a Burmese Tat, 
 
 through Burmah, Siam, and the Eastern Shah States. Illustrated. 
 Crown 8vo. 55. 
 
 BY THE AUTHORS OF "AN IRISH COUSIN," Illustrated by 
 W. W. RUSSELL, from Sketches by EDITH (E. SOMERVILLE. 
 
 Through Connemara in a Governess Cart. By 
 
 the Authors of "An Irish Cousin." Crown 8vo. Illustrated. 33. 6d. 
 
 In the Vine Country. Crown 8vo. Illustrated. 35. 6d. 
 
 STEPHEN BONSAL (Special Correspondent " Central News"). 
 
 Morocco as it is. With an Account of the Recent 
 
 Mission of Sir Charles Euan Smith. By STEPHEN BONSAL (Special 
 Correspondent "Central News 1 ). Crown 8vo. Illustrated. 7s. 6d. 
 
 DEPT-SURGEON-GEN. C. T. PASKE and F. G. AFLALO. 
 
 M yam ma. A Retrospect of Life and Travel in Lower 
 Burmah. By DEPT-SURGEON-GEN. C. T. PASKE and F. G. 
 AFLALO. Crown 8vo. With Frontispiece. 6s. 
 
 IRVING MONTAGU (late Special War Artist "Illustrated London 
 
 News "). 
 
 Wanderings of a War Artist. By IRVING MONTAGU, 
 
 late Special War Artist " Illustrated London News." Second 
 Edition. Crown 8vo. Illustrated. 6s. 
 
 Camp and Studio. By the same Author. Second 
 
 Edition. Crown 8vo. Illustrated. 6s. 
 
 London: 13, Waterloo Place, Pall Mall, S.W. 
 
24 W. H. Allen & Go s General Catalogue. 
 
 HENRY ALFORD, D.D., the late Dean of Canterbury. 
 
 The New Testament. After the Authorised Version. 
 Newly compared with the original Greek, and Revised. Long Primer, 
 Crown 8vo, cloth, red edges, 6s. ; Brevier, Fcap. 8vo, cloth, 35. 6d. ; 
 Nonpareil, small 8vo, is. 6d., or in calf extra, red edges, 45. 6d. 
 
 How to Study the New Testament. Vol. I. The 
 
 Gospels and the Acts. Vol. II. The Epistles, Part I. Vol. III. 
 The Epistles, Part 2, and the Revelations. 3 vols. Small 8vo. 
 33. 6d. each. 
 
 DR. DOLLINGER. 
 
 The First Age of Christianity and the Church. 
 
 Translated from the German, by H. N. OXENHAN. Third Edition. 
 2 vols. Crown 8vo. 155. 
 
 THE ODOR GRIESINGER. 
 The Jesuits; a Complete History of their Open and 
 
 Secret Proceedings from the Foundation of the Order to the Present 
 Time. Translated by A. J. SCOTT, M.D. Third Edition. Demy 
 8vo. IDS. 6d. 
 
 HENRY HAYMAN, D.D. 
 
 Why we Suffer, and other Essays. Demy 8vo. 125. 
 
 REV. T. P. HUGHES. 
 
 Notes on Muhammadanism. Second Edition, revised 
 
 and enlarged. Fcap. 8vo. 6s. 
 A Dictionary Of Islam. Being a Cyclopaedia of the 
 
 Doctrines, Rites, Ceremonies, and Customs, together with the 
 Technical and Theological Terms of the Muhammadan Religion. 
 With numerous Illustrations. Royal 8vo. 2 2s. 
 
 S. H. JEYES, M.A. 
 
 The Ethics of Aristotle. Nich. Eth. Books 14, 
 
 and Book 10, ch. vi. end. Analysed, Annotated, and Translated 
 for Oxford Passmen. Demy 8vo. 6s. 
 
 London: 13, Waterloo Place, Pall Mall, S. W. 
 
. H. Allen 6- Go s General Catalogue. 25 
 
 Keble College Sermons. Second Series, 1877-1888. 
 
 Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 CARDINAL NEWMAN. 
 
 Miscellanies from the Oxford Sermons of John 
 
 Henry Newman, D.D. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 REV. HENRY NUTCOMBE OXENHAM, M.A. 
 
 Catholic Eschatology and Universalism. An Essay 
 
 on the Doctrine of Future Retribution. Second Edition, Revised 
 and Enlarged. Crown 8vo. 75. 6d. 
 
 Catholic Doctrine of the Atonement. An Historical 
 
 Inquiry into its Development in the Church, with an Introduction on 
 the Principle of Theological Development. Third Edition and 
 Enlarged. Svo. 145. 
 
 The First Age of Christianity and the Church. 
 
 By JOHN IGNATIUS DOLLINGER, D.D., Professor of Ecclesiastical 
 History in the University of Munich, &c., &c. Translated from the 
 German by H. N. OXENHAM, M.A. Third Edition. 2 vols. 
 Crown Svo. iSs. 
 
 VENBLE. R. W. RANDALL, M.A., Archdeacon of Chichester. 
 
 Life in the Catholic Church. Its Blessings and 
 
 Responsibilities. Third Edition. Crown Svo. 6s. 
 
 Addresses and Meditations for a Retreat of Four 
 
 or Six Days. Second Edition. Crown Svo. 53. 
 
 A. H. RANSOME. 
 
 Sunday Thoughts for the Little Ones. 241110. 
 
 is. 6d. 
 
 WILFRED RICHMOND. 
 
 Economic Morals. Four Lectures, with Preface by the 
 Rev. H. S. HOLLAND, M.A., Canon of St. Paul s. Crown Svo. 
 3 s. 6d. 
 
 London: 13, Waterloo Place, Pall Malt, S.W. 
 
26 IV. H. Allen 6 Co. s General Catalogue. 
 
 REV. F. G. LEE, D.D. (Vicar of All Saints , Lambeth}. 
 
 The Church under Queen Elizabeth. An Historical 
 
 Sketch. By Rev. F. G. LEE, D.D. (Vicar of All Saints , Lambeth). 
 Second Edition. Crown 8vo. 73. 6d. 
 
 VERY REV. R. W. RANDALL (Dean of Chickester). 
 
 Addresses for a Retreat of Four or Six Days. 
 
 By the VERY REV. R. \V. RANDALL (Dean of Chichester). Part I. 
 Union with God ; Part II. From Life to Life. Second Edition. 
 Crown 8ve. 55. 
 
 ARTHUR PENRHYN STANLEY, D.D. (Dean of Westminsttr\ 
 
 Scripture Portraits and other Miscellanies collected 
 from his Published Writings. By ARTHUR PENRHYN STANLEY, 
 D.D. Crown 8vo. 53. 
 
 Uniform with the above. 
 
 VERY REV. FREDERICK W, FARRAR, D.D., F.R.S, 
 (Archdeacon of Westminster). 
 
 Words of Truth and Wisdom. By VERY REV. 
 
 FREDERICK W. FARRAR, D.D., F.R.S. Crown 8vo. 59. 
 Uniform with the above. 
 
 SAMUEL WILBERFORCE, D.D. (Bishop of Winchester]. 
 
 Heroes of Hebrew History. Crown 8vo. 55. 
 
 IDeterinar? an& 
 
 EDWARD L. ANDERSON. 
 
 How to Ride and School a Horse. With a System 
 
 of Horse Gymnastics. Crown 8vo. 2s. 6d. 
 
 A System of School Training for Horses. Crown 
 
 8vo. 2s. 6d. 
 
 GEORGE GRESSWELL. 
 
 The Diseases and Disorders of the Ox. Demy 8vo. 
 155. 
 
 London: 13, Waterloo Place, Pall Mall, S.W. 
 
W. H. Allen 6- Cols General Catalogue. 27 
 
 P. HOWDEN, V.S. 
 
 Horse Warranty. A plain and comprehensive Guide to 
 the Various points to be noted. Fcap. 35. 6d> 
 
 JAMES LONG. 
 The Dairy Farm. Illustrated. Crown 8vo. 33. 6d. 
 
 JAMES IRVINE LUPTON, F.R.C.V.S. 
 
 The Horse, as he Was, as he Is, and as he Ought 
 
 to Be. Illustrated. Crown 8vo. 33. 6d. 
 
 EDWARD MAYHEW, M.R.C.V.S. (Revised and Improved by 
 
 JAMES IRVINE LUPTON, F.R.C.V.S., Author of several works 
 
 on Veterinary Science and Art). 
 
 The Illustrated Horse Doctor. Being an Account 
 
 of the various Diseases incident to the Equine Race ; with the Latest 
 Mode of Treatment and Requisite Prescriptions. 400 Illustrations. 
 By EDWARD MAYHEW, M.R.C.V.S. (Revised and Improved by 
 JAMES IRVINE LUPTON, F.R.C.V.S., Author of several works on 
 Veterinary Science and Art.) Demy 8vo. los. 6d. 
 
 Illustrated Horse Management. Containing descrip- 
 
 tive Remarks upon Anatomy, Medicine, Shoeing, Teeth, Food, 
 Vices, Stables ; likewise a plain Account of the situation, nature, 
 and value of the various points ; together with Comments on Grooms, 
 Dealers, Breeders, Breakers, and Trainers. Embellished with more 
 than 400 Engravings from original designs made expressly for this 
 work. A New Edition, revised and improved by J. I. LUPTON, 
 M.R.C.V.S. Half-bound. Demy 8vo. 75. 6d. 
 
 MRS. POWER CTDONOGHUE. 
 
 Ladies on Horseback. Learning, Park Riding, and 
 Hunting. With Notes upon Costume, and Numerous Anecdotes. 
 With Portrait and Illustrations. New Edition. Crown 8vo. 33. 6d. 
 
 WILLIAM PROCTOR, Stud Groom. 
 
 The Management and Treatment of the Horse in 
 
 the Stable, Field, and on the Road. New and Revised Edition. 
 Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 London: 13, Waterloo Place, Pall Mall, S.W. 
 
2 8 W. H. Allen 6- Co. s General Catalogue. 
 
 Xiet of forthcoming publications. 
 
 [READY EARLY IN 1893.] 
 W. SAVILLE-KENT, F.L.S., F.Z.S., F.LInst., &c. 
 
 Super- Royal 4to, with 16 Chromo Plates and 48 Plates in Photo* 
 mezzotype. 3 135. 6d. net. 
 
 THE 
 
 GREAT BARRIER REEF OF AUSTRALIA: 
 
 ITS PRODUCTS AND POTENTIALITIES. 
 
 Containing an Account, with Copious Coloured and Photographic 
 Illustrations (the latter here produced for the 
 
 first time), of the 
 
 Corals and Coral Reefs, Pearl and Pearl Shell, Beche-de-Mer, other 
 
 Fishing Industries, and the Marine Fauna of the 
 
 Australian Great Barrier Region. 
 
 By W. SAVILLE-KENT, F.L.S., F.Z.S., F.I.Inst, &c. 
 
 The Great Barrier Reef of Australia, represented by a vast rampart of 
 coral origin, extending for no less a length than twelve hundred miles 
 from Torres Straits to Lady Elliot Island on the Queensland coast, takes 
 rank among the most notable of the existing wonders of the world. Built 
 up by the direct and indirect agency of soft-fleshed polyps of multitudinous 
 form and colour, it encloses betwixt its outer border and the adjacent 
 mainland a tranquil ocean highway for vessels of the heaviest draught. 
 To the naturalist, and more particularly to the marine biologist, the entire 
 Barrier area is a perfect Eldorado, its prolific waters teeming with animal 
 organisms of myriad form and hue representative of every marine zoological 
 group. 
 
 The author s qualifications for the task he undertakes are emphasised 
 through the circumstance of his having been occupied for the past eight 
 years as Inspector and Commissioner of Fisheries to various of the 
 Australian Colonies, the three later years having been devoted more 
 exclusively to investigating and reporting to the Queensland Government 
 upon the fishery products of the Great Barrier District. 
 
 A prominent feature in this work will consist of photographic views of 
 eoral reefs of various construction and from diverse selected localities, 
 together with similar and also coloured illustrations and descriptions of 
 the living corolla, coral-polyps, and other marine organisms commonly 
 associated on the reefs. These photographic illustrations taken by the 
 author are, from both a scientific and an artistic standpoint, of high 
 intrinsic merit and also unique in character, representing, in point of fact, 
 the first occasion on which the camera has been employed for the 
 systematic delineation of these subjects. 
 
 Subscribers names are now being registered for this important work. 
 London: 13, Waterloo Place, Pall Mall, S.W. 
 
W. H. Allen & Go s General Catalogue. 29 
 
 Two Vols., Crown 8vo, with Maps, I2s. 
 
 HISTORY OF INDIA, 
 
 FROM THE EARLIEST TIMES TO THE PRESENT DAY. 
 
 For the use of Students and Colleges. 
 By H. G. KEENE, C.I.E., HoN. M.A. OXON, Author of "The Fall of 
 
 the Moghul Empire," &c. 
 
 [7 the Press. 
 
 SIR MORELL MACKENZIE, 
 
 PHYSICIAN AND OPERATOR. 
 
 A Memoir, compiled and edited, by request of the Family, from 
 Private Papers and Personal Reminiscences. 
 
 By THE REV. H. R. HAWEIS, M.A., Author of " Music and Morals," &c. 
 
 {Early in 1893. 
 
 Crown 8vo. Illustrated with Sketches by the Author. 
 
 THE CHURCHES OF PARIS. 
 
 HISTORICAL AND ARCHAEOLOGICAL. 
 By SOPHIA BEALE. 
 
 Contents. Notre Dame ; Notre Dame des Champs ; Notre Dame de 
 Lorette ; Notre Dame des Victoires ; Genevieve ; Val de Grace ; Ste. 
 Chapelle ; St. Martin ; St. Martin des Champs ; Etienne du Mont ; 
 Eustache ; Germain 1 Auxerrois ; Germain des Pres ; Gervais ; Julien ; 
 Jacques ; Leu ; Laurent ; Merci ; Nicolas ; Paul ; Roch ; Severin ; 
 V. de Paul ; Madeleine ; Elizabeth ; Sorbonne ; Invalides. 
 
 [In February. 
 One Vol. , Crown 8vo. 
 
 ORNITHOLOGY. 
 
 IN RELATION TO AGRICULTURE AND HORTICULTURE. 
 Edited by JOHN WATSON, F.L.S., &c. 
 
 LIST OF CONTRIBUTORS. Miss ELEANOR A. ORMEROD, late Con 
 sulting Entomologist to the Royal Agricultural Society of England ; 
 O. V. APLIN, F.L.S., Member of the British Ornithologists Union; 
 CHARLES WHITEHEAD, F.L.S., F.G.S., &c., Author of "Fifty Years 
 of Fruit Farming" ; JOHN WATSON, F.L.S., Author of "A Handbook 
 for Farmers and Small Holders"; The REV. F. O. MORRIS, M.A., 
 Author of "A History of British Birds" ; G. W. MURDOCK, late Editor 
 of The Farmer-, RILEY FORTUNE, F.Z.S. ; T. H. NELSON, Member of 
 the British Ornithologists Union; T. SOUTHWELL, F.Z.S. ; REV. 
 THEO. WOOD, B.A., F.I.S. ; J. H. GURNEY, JUN., M.P.; HARRISON 
 WEIR, F.R.H.S. ; W. H. TUCK. 
 
 London: 13, Waterloo Place, Pall Mall, S.W. 
 
30 W. H. Allen & Co. s General Catalogue. 
 
 Demy 4to. 2 is. With 22 Portraits and other Illustrations. 
 
 INDIA S PRINCES. 
 
 Short Life Sketches of the Native Rulers of India. 
 By Mrs. GRIFFITH. 
 
 The work will contain Portraits of the various Princes, and upwards of 
 50 Illustrations, giving at one time a view of their Palaces, at another, 
 of Public Buildings of note or interest ; while now and again a picture of 
 scenery will lend to the volume an attraction which could scarcely be 
 attained by mere "word painting." 
 
 The contents will be arranged in the following order : THE PUNJAUB 
 H.H. The Maharaja of Cashmere, H.H. The Maharaja of Patiala, 
 H.H. The Maharaja of Kapurthalla. RAJPUTANA The Maharaja of 
 Ouidpur, The Maharaja of Jeypore, The Maharaja of Jodhpur, The 
 Maharaja of Uwar, The Maharaja of Bhurtpur. CENTRAL INDIA H.H. 
 The Maharaja Holkar of Indore, H.H. The Maharaja Scindia of 
 Gwalior, H.H. The Begum of Bhopal. THE BOMBAY PRESIDENCY 
 H.H, The Gaikwar of Baroda, H.H. The Rao of Cutch, H.H. The 
 Raja of Kolhapur, H.H. The Nawab of Juarrghad, H.H. The Thakore 
 Sahib of Bhavnagar, H.H. The Thakore Sahib of Dhangadra, H.H. The 
 Thakore Sahib of Morvi, H.H. The Thakore Sahib of Gondal. 
 SOUTHERN INDIA H.H. The Nizam of Hyderabad, H.H. The Ma 
 haraja of Mysore, H.H. The Maharaja of Travancore. 
 
 [/ February. 
 Demy 8vo, I2s. 6d. 
 
 A SHORT HISTORY OF CHINA. 
 
 By DEMETRIUS C. BOULGER, M.R.A.S., 
 
 Author of the "History of China," "England and Russia in Central 
 Asia," &c. t &c. 
 
 Being an account for the General Reader of an Ancient Empire and 
 People. 
 
 Contents. The Early Ages; The First National Dynasty; Some 
 Minor Dynasties ; The Sungs and the Kins ; The Mongols ; Kublai 
 Khan; The Chinese Re-conquest; The Ming Rulers; The Manchu 
 Conquest ; The Emperor Kanghi ; Yung Ching ; The Emperor Keen 
 Tung ; Imperial Expansion ; The Decline of the Manchus ; Tavukwang ; 
 First Foreign War ; The Taeping Rebellion ; The Second Foreign War ; 
 Internal Troubles ; Recovery of the Empire ; China s Place among the 
 Powers. 
 
 London: 13, Waterloo Place, Pall Mall, S.W. 
 
W. H. Allen & Co. s General Catalogue. 31 
 
 Crown 8vo. 
 
 WORDS ON EXISTING RELIGIONS. 
 
 By the HON. A. S. G. CANNING, Author of " Thoughts on Shakespeare s 
 Historical Plays," " Revolted Ireland," c. 
 
 Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 LEAVES FROM A SPORTSMAN S DIARY. 
 
 By PARKER GILLMORE. 
 (" Ubique.") 
 
 New Edition, Crown 8vo. 
 
 GUN, ROD, AND SADDLE. 
 
 By PARKER GILLMORE. 
 ("Ubique.") 
 
 Crown 8vo. 
 
 THE STORY OF A DACOITY NAGOJI THE 
 BEDER NAIK. 
 
 By G. K. BETHAM. 
 
 Crown 8vo. 
 
 ESSAYS ON NAVAL DEFENCE. 
 
 By VICE-ADMIRAL P. H. COLOMB, Author of "Naval Warfare." 
 
 Crown Svo. Two Vols. 
 
 CAPTAIN ENDERIS, FIRST WEST AFRICAN 
 
 REGIMENT. 
 
 A NOVEL. 
 
 By A. P. CROUCH, Author of "On a Surf-Bound Coast," "Glimpses 
 of Feverland," &c. 
 
 London: 13, Waterloo Place, Pall Mall, S.W. 
 
32 W. H. Allen 6- Co. s General Catalogue. 
 
 In the Press, one vol. 8vo, ready early in 1893. 
 
 THE INDIAN EMPIRE 
 
 ITS PEOPLE, HISTORY, AND PRODUCTS, 
 
 BY 
 
 SIR W. W. HUNTER, K.C.S.I., C.I.E., LL.D. 
 
 The Secretary of State for India has had under his consideration th 
 issue of a complete account of our Indian possessions brought down to th 
 census of 1891. The two standard works on the subject are Sir Williai 
 Hunter s "Imperial Gazetteer of India" and "The Indian Empire" b 
 the same author. The " Imperial Gazetteer " embodies in 14 volumes th 
 leading results of the great statistical survey of India, while " The India 
 Empire " condenses the whole into one thick volume. Both these wort; 
 are now out of date, as their administrative, commercial, and socij 
 economic chapters only come down to 1871 and 1881, and "The India 
 Empire : has for some time been also out of print. The Secretaiy of Stat 
 has determined to postpone the revision of the larger work until the r > 
 Indian census of 1901, when it will form a great and permaner 
 account of the condition and progress of India at the close of the ict 
 century. Meanwhile he has authorised the issue of a thorougl.l 
 revised edition of "The Indian Empire," and placed the necessar 
 materials and assistance at Sir William Hunter s disposal, to ena. I 
 him to carry out the work. The book, which has for some tiu 
 been under preparation, will form a complete but compact account < 
 India, its peoples, history, and products, the revision being based on th 
 administration reports of the 12 provinces of British India and the feud; 
 tory States for 1891. New and valuable matter has been incorporated i 
 each division of the work, and important sections have been addec 
 The parts which deal with the population and races of India have bee 
 reconstructed on the returns of the Indian census of 1891, and the who! 
 of the administrative, commercial, and economic chapters have bee 
 brought up to the same date. The historical section, occupying sever: 
 hundred pages, has been revised, and in part re-written, by the light < 
 recent researches into Hindo and Mahomedan history, and from the ne 
 materials afforded by the official publication of the Indian records, und< 
 the able editorship of Mr. Forrest and others. The publication of i\ 
 work, which will make a large volume of about 800 pages, has been ei 
 trusted to Messrs. W. H. Allen & Co., who hope to be able to issue it i 
 the Spring of 1893. 
 
 London; 13, Waterloo Place, Pall Mall, S.W. 
 

 ftUG tf 1 ^ 54 
 JUN2219705 8 
 
 LD 21 
 
 - 10 Om.l, 54C1887 S 16)476 
 
513687 
 
 tocktpn. F, R 
 
 rhe shadrich and" o t he r 
 
 IB SCHO 
 
 SO. 
 BE SCHO 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY <