THE BUILDERS OF THE BRIDGE.

THE BUILDERS OF THE BRIDGE.By Mrs.G. LINNÆUS BANKS, Authoress of "God's Providence House," "The Manchester Man," "More than Coronets," etc.CHAPTER I.There is no part of inhabited England, rural or urban, to be found precisely in the same condition, or presenting the same aspect, as in the days of King Henry the Third. And if the baronial hall of the Bellamonts is no longer to be foundin situat Swarkstone, on the Derbyshire banks of the Trent, the devastating hands of Time and Warfare must be blamed, not the present chronicler.Besides the Danish Sverk or Swark'stun(or territorial enclosure), Sinfin Moor, Chellaston, and all the lands down to the broad river, had been included in the demesne granted to his Norman follower and his descendants by William the Conqueror, who took and gave the property of the conquered with a like lavish profusion. But the lands have been denuded of wood, partitioned, bought, sold, passed in heirship or exchange for centuries since a Bellamont held sway over all.The very eminence from which their castellated hall looked down upon the distant river has been levelled and ploughed up, as if to score out all record of Bellamont possession.Yet the Bellamonts left a memorial of their occupancy which should have embalmed their name in history, and kept it sweet and fresh in the memories of men, had gratitude been as vital or hereditary as a benefaction.How many travellers from London, or Oxford, or Leicester, or Ashby-de-la-Zouch, to Derby, passing in all those centuries over Swarkstone Bridge, have paused to ask when, or why, or by whom it was there erected for their convenience?Tradition is best preserved when crystallised in a story.There were gay doings in the hall and the villages around Bellamont in the June of 1258, when a noble party of guests had assembled at the hall to share the festivities at the forthcoming marriage of the ladies Idonea and Avice, the twin daughters of Richard Earl Bellamont and his noble countess.More than one disappointed suitor was there amongst the party, either too proud to show his wounds, or gallantly indifferent; for as the earl's only son had been drowned in his childhood, the fair maidens were known to be co-heiresses, and not a neighbouring lord or knight but would have been well pleased to add a slice of the Bellamont lands to his own estate.Then report said the sisters were wonderfully fair and virtuous; that their lady-mother had early initiated them into the mysteries of good housewifery; and the learned Prior of Burton (John de Stretton) had opened unto them the still greater mysteries of reading, writing, accounts, and religion—not least, if last.No wonder, then, that many a lance was set in rest and broken in tilt or tourney for one or other of the sisters, seeing they were endowed with beauty, wealth, thrift, learning, and the Christian graces.Such prizes are not often offered for the winning.The Countess Joan would fain have given one of her daughters to a kinsman, William Harpur, of Ticknall, but fate, and, it may be, Prior John, had determined otherwise.Idonea had promised her hand to Sir Ralph de Egginton; and Sir Gilbert Findern—in whose gardens bloomed the fair blossoms his father had brought from the Holy Land—was the heart's-chosen of sweet Avice."Two as gallant knights, my lady," said the earl to his busy spouse, "as father could desire for the honour and protection of his girls, when his own arm grows feeble, or his grey head rests on a stone pillow. Methinks thy kinsman, Will Harpur, covets most my coffer and lands, he was so willing to bid for Avice when Idonea said 'nay' to his suit."However that might be, both he and the prior joined the gay cavalcade that issued from the triply arched gateway of the hall, bent on flying their hawks on Sinfin Moor. Gay, indeed, if brilliant apparel, buoyant hearts, and bounding steeds might count for gaiety. Luxury in dress was an enormity of the time, as of this.The young Ladies Bellamont, considering their rank, made less ostentatious display of wealth in their attire than any of their companions that bright June morning. Each wore a cyclas, or tunic of purple velours (velvet) bordered with gold, over a tawny silken robe, that hid the long points of their embroidered shoes, as they reined in their palfreys, gracefully seated on the new high-backed side-saddles, the observed of all observers.Yet they did not court undue observation. Indoors the sunny curls of Avice or the darksome tresses of Idonea flowed freely over their shoulders, simply confined by a ribbon fillet or a chaplet of fresh flowers. But then a kerchief of white Cyprus-lawn, cunningly folded as a wimple o'er the head, and a gorget round the throat, served as a modest screen alike from the ardent sun and the free glances of strangers. And, as was their wont when the year was in its prime, over her wimple Idonea wore a chaplet of rare red roses, Avice one of blushing white.The earl was wont to call them his two sweet roses and laughingly bid their wooers beware the thorns. But little of thorns did their favoured knights think as down the steep hill they rode together, each displaying in his velvet cap and cyclas of embroidered silken samite the colour of his ladye-love.Deep as the red heart of the rose was the cyclas worn over the buff-leather surcoat of Sir Ralph de Egginton, and a carbuncle blazed in his dagger hilt. White as purity was the samite cyclas of Sir Gilbert Findern, but it was girdled by a leathern dagger-belt, bestudded with pink coral and pearls, as was the haft of his weapon, and in either cap or bonnet was his lady's symbol, in token the wearer laid his life at her feet, and was equally ready to live or die for her.There was more thought of living than of dying that bright morning, as, following closely Prior John and the old earl, each knight with his hooded sacret perched on his hawking-glove, each lady with her merlin, they laughed and jested merrily, or whispered words of sweetness not for second ears; and the happiness of the fine young couples, their means and their future homes were freely discussed behind them in the midst of arguments on the merits of favourite falcons.There was a motley following of esquires, yeomen, pages, villeins on horseback and on foot, with every species of hawk the law permitted; grooms with dogs in the leash; but chief of all the falconer, conspicuous in his green cloth surcoat, with the square frame he held around him, on which were perched and held by silken jesses the peregrine falcons of his master, and the sparrow-hawk of the prior, who had doffed his cowl and frock for the occasion, as freely as the earl and his friends their rough-weather mantles.On went they all at a gentle trot, with the bright day before them, and were crossing the common road which ran from Derby to the river, some of the more eager galloping on ahead to Sinfin Moor, when suddenly the loud blast of a horn wakened the echoes, and startled speech to silence.It was not the horn of a huntsman, but a sharp imperative blast that spoke of emergency.Again and again it was repeated. Horses neighed, and eyes were turned to other eyes in silent question. The lips of Avice turned pale, the cheeks of Idonea flushed crimson as her own roses, her heart beat quick as that of her gentler sister seemed to stop its beating."What can it bode?" rose to the lips of both in different intonations."No evil, Avice, rest assured," answered Sir Gilbert, cheerily, "and if there were, am I not here to guard you with my life?" Yet as he spoke he bethought him that a dagger was but a sorry trust to warrant such high words, and longed for his good sword.The cavalcade had come to a standstill, and the horses pawed the ground impatiently, the hot-blooded earl chafing almost as impatiently as his steed."Marry!" cried he, "for what are we waiting here, like a brood of frightened chicks? Let us on and meet the messenger, whatever be his tidings." And forward he went, with the bold prior by his side, and the whole hawking party after him—some brave, all curious.Two minutes more, and a mounted herald came in sight, guarded by four pursuivants; their horses' limbs and trappings wet, as if they had forded the river, then lowered by long draughts of the thirsty sun."Weareth he not the Earl of Leicester's badge and cognisance?" asked the earl. "My old eyes are hardly to be trusted.""Aye, my lord, and he spurs as if in haste," replied the prior.In haste, indeed! The herald bore a double message from his noble lord, Simon de Montfort, Earl of Leicester; first—without the herald's long preamble—as the mouthpiece of their sovereign lord, King Henry, to summon his loyal barons and knights to assemble in a parliament at Oxford on the eleventh of that same month of June; and secondly from Simon de Montfort's self, to bid those same barons and knights come to the Oxford parliament armed, and with armed attendants, in order, if needful, to wrest from the king the ratification of the great charter they had obtained from his weak predecessor by like means at Runnymede.They were moreover bidden to meet for conference in Leicester the following day. Desiring first to learn how many of the county knights were of the Bellamont company, so as to spare him needless journeying, the herald then set spurs to his steed, and was off with his followers in all haste to Derby, urgency serving as his excuse for declining the proffered hospitality of the good earl.Here was a summons as startling as it was sudden and peremptory!The falconer might carry his hawks back to the mews. There was a duty more imperative than filling the larder under the name of sport.Back went the gallant hawking party, in more of haste and excitement, if less of glee, than when they had left the great gateway at a canter scarce half an hour before, by the sun.The warder on the watch threw open the great gates in consternation, certain some mischance had happened.Lady Joan left her housewifery, and was there in her lap-cloth (or apron) to receive them, with a face full of apprehension."There can be no hawking to-day, Joan," said her lord, "we must don harness and speed to Leicester. The king hath summoned a parliament to meet him at Oxford.""Arm! A parliament! Do parliaments assemble in arms?""This will, good Joan, for so hath decided Simon de Montfort. But never look so scared, my lady. And you, my blooming roses, need not droop; there will be no bloodshed. You will have your gallant bridegrooms back ere another week be out," answered the earl, cheerily."But the bridal—the banquet?" cried the dame, in dismay.The young knights helping their downcast fair ones to alight, seemed each to put a like question in an undertone, pressing the gloved hands they were so loth to relinquish, even for an hour."If the bridegrooms be impatient, and the earl be willing, the bridal can precede the parliament," suggested the prior. "I am here, and Father Paul"—referring to his attendant priest—"can have his vestments and the chapel ready long ere noon. What say ye, Bellamont, and Lady Joan? And these fair maidens, Idonea and Avice, what say ye? Shall the church bind ye ere the bridegrooms go?"The damsels blushed; the two knights looked eagerly for their replies.Ere they could speak the old earl blurted forth, "Nay, nay, Prior John, the nation's charter must take precedence of private contracts. And whoe'er heard of a happy wedding without a feast; a feast to rich and poor. And, look up, my bonny roses, I will bring your brave knights back ere this day week. Say I not well? The banquet will not suffer from delay."What could they say?That was the ninth, the twelfth had been appointed for the nuptials. Great were the preparations. Their lady-mother would be displeased if aught of state were wanting at the ceremony or the banquet."Our private inclinations must give place to duty," answered Idonea, proudly, red as the roses round her wimple."Be it as my good father and Sir Gilbert will," was the response of Avice, in lower and milder tone."Be it as I will, children. And now, on with your lap-cloths and away to help your busy mother and her handmaidens to provide a hasty meal, whilst we exchange our hawking-gear for shirts of mail. And you, Prior John, may say yourBenediciteover our hasty repast, to bless our enterprise. And I pray you, and such of our friends as go not with us, of your courtesy abide here our return. Will Harpur here will do devoir for me."The two knights, conversing earnestly apart, looked at each other with contracted brows, as if Will Harpur were no favourite with either.The old earl turned to them. "Lack you aught, sirs, that would call you to Egginton or Findern ere you ride to Leicester, or go you on with me?""With you, my lord," replied Sir Ralph for both. "We but seek to despatch a trusty messenger to our homes to keep back preparations there, and cool expectations.""Friar Paul will do your errand faithfully, sir knights," kindly volunteered the obliging prior; "he starts in an hour with a scroll of mine for the monastery, and can take Findern and Egginton by the way.""Thanks, prior. Our own esquires and foot-pages must follow us."With that the group dispersed, to add to the general commotion. In the great hall there was a hurrying of serving men from kitchen and buttery with large dishes to cover the boards on movable tressels, that did duty as tables, already spread by dainty handmaids with fair linen napery, and platters of coarse bread (to serve afterwards as doles to the poor). Solid joints and lighter dainties, already prepared for the deferred wedding-feast, were brought forward to grace this parting meal—a parting meal, indeed, and it seemed to cast a shadow on the hurried preparations beforehand.The lady was not pleased to surrender the peacock with his outspread tail, or the plumed cygnet for aught but the grand occasion, if the lamb and the salmon had to share the fate of the great joints; and when the bearer of the great silver saltcellar (set midway on the board to mark the bounds of rank from dependents) stumbled and shed his precious condiment upon the floor, she was as much disposed to shed tears as to rate him for his clumsiness.There were other moist eyes besides the troubled dame's. In the maidens' bower the gentle Avice scarcely could cast aside her wimple, and don her lap-cloth for the tears she shed, and stronger-nerved Idonea had scarcely self-command to comfort her."I feel as if Sir Gilbert was leaving me for ever," said the former, through her tears, "and there would be no bridal.""And what of Sir Ralph? Nay, Avice, do not be cast down. We must show braver faces to our betrothed, or we may dishearten and unfit them for the work before them. Come, dry your eyes, and haste with me to relieve our dear mother of her many cares."There was a clink of metal everywhere, a running to and fro of foot-pages, with casques or coats of mail, a clank of hoofs and hammers in the courtyard and the blacksmith's shed, the rivetting of armour, the nailing of horseshoes, the harnessing of steeds; and then the clangour of a bell to announce refection ready.It was a hurried repast, partaken of by mailed knights, lacking only gauntlets and helmets to be fully armed, as were their attendant esquires and pages. And as none knew if the parliament so attended would pass peacefully, it was aught but a gladsome gathering.As was the custom, the ladies shared the platters of their spouses or betrothed, and so there were opportunities for hopeful or consoling words between the lovers; and then with full cups drained to "The King and Magna Charta!" earl and knights were up with the rest. Idonea and Avice clasped on the casques of their lovers, and were gallantly repaid.A fatherly kiss from the earl, and he was off with a goodly train of armed knights and esquires, two of whom carried symbolic roses in their casques, the spoil of maidens' chaplets.A pattering of young feet up the oaken stairs, a straining of eyes and waving of kerchiefs from the bower-window. Soon the party was seen to cross the Swarkstone ford, the sun shining on helms of gold and silver and steel, on lance-heads and waving pennons, and then—and then—came the waiting, whilst Prior John discoursed to them of Christian hope and trust, and William Harpur dwelt on the probability of strife and bloodshed, and my lady called on them for help to entertain such guests as still remained at Swarkstone Hall.(To be concluded.)

By Mrs.G. LINNÆUS BANKS, Authoress of "God's Providence House," "The Manchester Man," "More than Coronets," etc.

There is no part of inhabited England, rural or urban, to be found precisely in the same condition, or presenting the same aspect, as in the days of King Henry the Third. And if the baronial hall of the Bellamonts is no longer to be foundin situat Swarkstone, on the Derbyshire banks of the Trent, the devastating hands of Time and Warfare must be blamed, not the present chronicler.

Besides the Danish Sverk or Swark'stun(or territorial enclosure), Sinfin Moor, Chellaston, and all the lands down to the broad river, had been included in the demesne granted to his Norman follower and his descendants by William the Conqueror, who took and gave the property of the conquered with a like lavish profusion. But the lands have been denuded of wood, partitioned, bought, sold, passed in heirship or exchange for centuries since a Bellamont held sway over all.

The very eminence from which their castellated hall looked down upon the distant river has been levelled and ploughed up, as if to score out all record of Bellamont possession.

Yet the Bellamonts left a memorial of their occupancy which should have embalmed their name in history, and kept it sweet and fresh in the memories of men, had gratitude been as vital or hereditary as a benefaction.

How many travellers from London, or Oxford, or Leicester, or Ashby-de-la-Zouch, to Derby, passing in all those centuries over Swarkstone Bridge, have paused to ask when, or why, or by whom it was there erected for their convenience?

Tradition is best preserved when crystallised in a story.

There were gay doings in the hall and the villages around Bellamont in the June of 1258, when a noble party of guests had assembled at the hall to share the festivities at the forthcoming marriage of the ladies Idonea and Avice, the twin daughters of Richard Earl Bellamont and his noble countess.

More than one disappointed suitor was there amongst the party, either too proud to show his wounds, or gallantly indifferent; for as the earl's only son had been drowned in his childhood, the fair maidens were known to be co-heiresses, and not a neighbouring lord or knight but would have been well pleased to add a slice of the Bellamont lands to his own estate.

Then report said the sisters were wonderfully fair and virtuous; that their lady-mother had early initiated them into the mysteries of good housewifery; and the learned Prior of Burton (John de Stretton) had opened unto them the still greater mysteries of reading, writing, accounts, and religion—not least, if last.

No wonder, then, that many a lance was set in rest and broken in tilt or tourney for one or other of the sisters, seeing they were endowed with beauty, wealth, thrift, learning, and the Christian graces.

Such prizes are not often offered for the winning.

The Countess Joan would fain have given one of her daughters to a kinsman, William Harpur, of Ticknall, but fate, and, it may be, Prior John, had determined otherwise.

Idonea had promised her hand to Sir Ralph de Egginton; and Sir Gilbert Findern—in whose gardens bloomed the fair blossoms his father had brought from the Holy Land—was the heart's-chosen of sweet Avice.

"Two as gallant knights, my lady," said the earl to his busy spouse, "as father could desire for the honour and protection of his girls, when his own arm grows feeble, or his grey head rests on a stone pillow. Methinks thy kinsman, Will Harpur, covets most my coffer and lands, he was so willing to bid for Avice when Idonea said 'nay' to his suit."

However that might be, both he and the prior joined the gay cavalcade that issued from the triply arched gateway of the hall, bent on flying their hawks on Sinfin Moor. Gay, indeed, if brilliant apparel, buoyant hearts, and bounding steeds might count for gaiety. Luxury in dress was an enormity of the time, as of this.

The young Ladies Bellamont, considering their rank, made less ostentatious display of wealth in their attire than any of their companions that bright June morning. Each wore a cyclas, or tunic of purple velours (velvet) bordered with gold, over a tawny silken robe, that hid the long points of their embroidered shoes, as they reined in their palfreys, gracefully seated on the new high-backed side-saddles, the observed of all observers.

Yet they did not court undue observation. Indoors the sunny curls of Avice or the darksome tresses of Idonea flowed freely over their shoulders, simply confined by a ribbon fillet or a chaplet of fresh flowers. But then a kerchief of white Cyprus-lawn, cunningly folded as a wimple o'er the head, and a gorget round the throat, served as a modest screen alike from the ardent sun and the free glances of strangers. And, as was their wont when the year was in its prime, over her wimple Idonea wore a chaplet of rare red roses, Avice one of blushing white.

The earl was wont to call them his two sweet roses and laughingly bid their wooers beware the thorns. But little of thorns did their favoured knights think as down the steep hill they rode together, each displaying in his velvet cap and cyclas of embroidered silken samite the colour of his ladye-love.

Deep as the red heart of the rose was the cyclas worn over the buff-leather surcoat of Sir Ralph de Egginton, and a carbuncle blazed in his dagger hilt. White as purity was the samite cyclas of Sir Gilbert Findern, but it was girdled by a leathern dagger-belt, bestudded with pink coral and pearls, as was the haft of his weapon, and in either cap or bonnet was his lady's symbol, in token the wearer laid his life at her feet, and was equally ready to live or die for her.

There was more thought of living than of dying that bright morning, as, following closely Prior John and the old earl, each knight with his hooded sacret perched on his hawking-glove, each lady with her merlin, they laughed and jested merrily, or whispered words of sweetness not for second ears; and the happiness of the fine young couples, their means and their future homes were freely discussed behind them in the midst of arguments on the merits of favourite falcons.

There was a motley following of esquires, yeomen, pages, villeins on horseback and on foot, with every species of hawk the law permitted; grooms with dogs in the leash; but chief of all the falconer, conspicuous in his green cloth surcoat, with the square frame he held around him, on which were perched and held by silken jesses the peregrine falcons of his master, and the sparrow-hawk of the prior, who had doffed his cowl and frock for the occasion, as freely as the earl and his friends their rough-weather mantles.

On went they all at a gentle trot, with the bright day before them, and were crossing the common road which ran from Derby to the river, some of the more eager galloping on ahead to Sinfin Moor, when suddenly the loud blast of a horn wakened the echoes, and startled speech to silence.

It was not the horn of a huntsman, but a sharp imperative blast that spoke of emergency.

Again and again it was repeated. Horses neighed, and eyes were turned to other eyes in silent question. The lips of Avice turned pale, the cheeks of Idonea flushed crimson as her own roses, her heart beat quick as that of her gentler sister seemed to stop its beating.

"What can it bode?" rose to the lips of both in different intonations.

"No evil, Avice, rest assured," answered Sir Gilbert, cheerily, "and if there were, am I not here to guard you with my life?" Yet as he spoke he bethought him that a dagger was but a sorry trust to warrant such high words, and longed for his good sword.

The cavalcade had come to a standstill, and the horses pawed the ground impatiently, the hot-blooded earl chafing almost as impatiently as his steed.

"Marry!" cried he, "for what are we waiting here, like a brood of frightened chicks? Let us on and meet the messenger, whatever be his tidings." And forward he went, with the bold prior by his side, and the whole hawking party after him—some brave, all curious.

Two minutes more, and a mounted herald came in sight, guarded by four pursuivants; their horses' limbs and trappings wet, as if they had forded the river, then lowered by long draughts of the thirsty sun.

"Weareth he not the Earl of Leicester's badge and cognisance?" asked the earl. "My old eyes are hardly to be trusted."

"Aye, my lord, and he spurs as if in haste," replied the prior.

In haste, indeed! The herald bore a double message from his noble lord, Simon de Montfort, Earl of Leicester; first—without the herald's long preamble—as the mouthpiece of their sovereign lord, King Henry, to summon his loyal barons and knights to assemble in a parliament at Oxford on the eleventh of that same month of June; and secondly from Simon de Montfort's self, to bid those same barons and knights come to the Oxford parliament armed, and with armed attendants, in order, if needful, to wrest from the king the ratification of the great charter they had obtained from his weak predecessor by like means at Runnymede.

They were moreover bidden to meet for conference in Leicester the following day. Desiring first to learn how many of the county knights were of the Bellamont company, so as to spare him needless journeying, the herald then set spurs to his steed, and was off with his followers in all haste to Derby, urgency serving as his excuse for declining the proffered hospitality of the good earl.

Here was a summons as startling as it was sudden and peremptory!

The falconer might carry his hawks back to the mews. There was a duty more imperative than filling the larder under the name of sport.

Back went the gallant hawking party, in more of haste and excitement, if less of glee, than when they had left the great gateway at a canter scarce half an hour before, by the sun.

The warder on the watch threw open the great gates in consternation, certain some mischance had happened.

Lady Joan left her housewifery, and was there in her lap-cloth (or apron) to receive them, with a face full of apprehension.

"There can be no hawking to-day, Joan," said her lord, "we must don harness and speed to Leicester. The king hath summoned a parliament to meet him at Oxford."

"Arm! A parliament! Do parliaments assemble in arms?"

"This will, good Joan, for so hath decided Simon de Montfort. But never look so scared, my lady. And you, my blooming roses, need not droop; there will be no bloodshed. You will have your gallant bridegrooms back ere another week be out," answered the earl, cheerily.

"But the bridal—the banquet?" cried the dame, in dismay.

The young knights helping their downcast fair ones to alight, seemed each to put a like question in an undertone, pressing the gloved hands they were so loth to relinquish, even for an hour.

"If the bridegrooms be impatient, and the earl be willing, the bridal can precede the parliament," suggested the prior. "I am here, and Father Paul"—referring to his attendant priest—"can have his vestments and the chapel ready long ere noon. What say ye, Bellamont, and Lady Joan? And these fair maidens, Idonea and Avice, what say ye? Shall the church bind ye ere the bridegrooms go?"

The damsels blushed; the two knights looked eagerly for their replies.

Ere they could speak the old earl blurted forth, "Nay, nay, Prior John, the nation's charter must take precedence of private contracts. And whoe'er heard of a happy wedding without a feast; a feast to rich and poor. And, look up, my bonny roses, I will bring your brave knights back ere this day week. Say I not well? The banquet will not suffer from delay."

What could they say?

That was the ninth, the twelfth had been appointed for the nuptials. Great were the preparations. Their lady-mother would be displeased if aught of state were wanting at the ceremony or the banquet.

"Our private inclinations must give place to duty," answered Idonea, proudly, red as the roses round her wimple.

"Be it as my good father and Sir Gilbert will," was the response of Avice, in lower and milder tone.

"Be it as I will, children. And now, on with your lap-cloths and away to help your busy mother and her handmaidens to provide a hasty meal, whilst we exchange our hawking-gear for shirts of mail. And you, Prior John, may say yourBenediciteover our hasty repast, to bless our enterprise. And I pray you, and such of our friends as go not with us, of your courtesy abide here our return. Will Harpur here will do devoir for me."

The two knights, conversing earnestly apart, looked at each other with contracted brows, as if Will Harpur were no favourite with either.

The old earl turned to them. "Lack you aught, sirs, that would call you to Egginton or Findern ere you ride to Leicester, or go you on with me?"

"With you, my lord," replied Sir Ralph for both. "We but seek to despatch a trusty messenger to our homes to keep back preparations there, and cool expectations."

"Friar Paul will do your errand faithfully, sir knights," kindly volunteered the obliging prior; "he starts in an hour with a scroll of mine for the monastery, and can take Findern and Egginton by the way."

"Thanks, prior. Our own esquires and foot-pages must follow us."

With that the group dispersed, to add to the general commotion. In the great hall there was a hurrying of serving men from kitchen and buttery with large dishes to cover the boards on movable tressels, that did duty as tables, already spread by dainty handmaids with fair linen napery, and platters of coarse bread (to serve afterwards as doles to the poor). Solid joints and lighter dainties, already prepared for the deferred wedding-feast, were brought forward to grace this parting meal—a parting meal, indeed, and it seemed to cast a shadow on the hurried preparations beforehand.

The lady was not pleased to surrender the peacock with his outspread tail, or the plumed cygnet for aught but the grand occasion, if the lamb and the salmon had to share the fate of the great joints; and when the bearer of the great silver saltcellar (set midway on the board to mark the bounds of rank from dependents) stumbled and shed his precious condiment upon the floor, she was as much disposed to shed tears as to rate him for his clumsiness.

There were other moist eyes besides the troubled dame's. In the maidens' bower the gentle Avice scarcely could cast aside her wimple, and don her lap-cloth for the tears she shed, and stronger-nerved Idonea had scarcely self-command to comfort her.

"I feel as if Sir Gilbert was leaving me for ever," said the former, through her tears, "and there would be no bridal."

"And what of Sir Ralph? Nay, Avice, do not be cast down. We must show braver faces to our betrothed, or we may dishearten and unfit them for the work before them. Come, dry your eyes, and haste with me to relieve our dear mother of her many cares."

There was a clink of metal everywhere, a running to and fro of foot-pages, with casques or coats of mail, a clank of hoofs and hammers in the courtyard and the blacksmith's shed, the rivetting of armour, the nailing of horseshoes, the harnessing of steeds; and then the clangour of a bell to announce refection ready.

It was a hurried repast, partaken of by mailed knights, lacking only gauntlets and helmets to be fully armed, as were their attendant esquires and pages. And as none knew if the parliament so attended would pass peacefully, it was aught but a gladsome gathering.

As was the custom, the ladies shared the platters of their spouses or betrothed, and so there were opportunities for hopeful or consoling words between the lovers; and then with full cups drained to "The King and Magna Charta!" earl and knights were up with the rest. Idonea and Avice clasped on the casques of their lovers, and were gallantly repaid.

A fatherly kiss from the earl, and he was off with a goodly train of armed knights and esquires, two of whom carried symbolic roses in their casques, the spoil of maidens' chaplets.

A pattering of young feet up the oaken stairs, a straining of eyes and waving of kerchiefs from the bower-window. Soon the party was seen to cross the Swarkstone ford, the sun shining on helms of gold and silver and steel, on lance-heads and waving pennons, and then—and then—came the waiting, whilst Prior John discoursed to them of Christian hope and trust, and William Harpur dwelt on the probability of strife and bloodshed, and my lady called on them for help to entertain such guests as still remained at Swarkstone Hall.

(To be concluded.)

WINTERWINTERThe keen, clear air—the splendid sight—We waken to a world of ice;Where all things are enshrined in light,As by some genie's quaint device.'Tis winter's jubilee this dayHis stores their countless treasures yield;See how the diamond glances play,In ceaseless blaze, from tree and field.The cold, bare spot where late we ranged,The naked woods, are seen no more;This earth to fairy land is changed,With glittering silver sheeted o'er.O God of Nature! with what mightOf beauty, shower'd on all below,Thy guiding power would lead aright,Earth's wanderer all Thy love to know!Andrews Norton.

WINTER

WINTER

The keen, clear air—the splendid sight—We waken to a world of ice;Where all things are enshrined in light,As by some genie's quaint device.'Tis winter's jubilee this dayHis stores their countless treasures yield;See how the diamond glances play,In ceaseless blaze, from tree and field.The cold, bare spot where late we ranged,The naked woods, are seen no more;This earth to fairy land is changed,With glittering silver sheeted o'er.O God of Nature! with what mightOf beauty, shower'd on all below,Thy guiding power would lead aright,Earth's wanderer all Thy love to know!Andrews Norton.

The keen, clear air—the splendid sight—We waken to a world of ice;Where all things are enshrined in light,As by some genie's quaint device.

'Tis winter's jubilee this dayHis stores their countless treasures yield;See how the diamond glances play,In ceaseless blaze, from tree and field.

The cold, bare spot where late we ranged,The naked woods, are seen no more;This earth to fairy land is changed,With glittering silver sheeted o'er.

O God of Nature! with what mightOf beauty, shower'd on all below,Thy guiding power would lead aright,Earth's wanderer all Thy love to know!Andrews Norton.

Andrews Norton.

AN OLD MAN'S VISIONS IN THE FLAMES.ByJOS. CULLEN SAWTELL.Beside a simple hearth I sit aloneTo watch the plumes of smoke and fitful blaze,And here reflecting how the time has flown,I see in flames the sights of bygone days:I'm sixty-six, with hair of purest white,My brow is wrinkled in a thousand creeks,And dim is now what once was clearest sight,And hollow what were round and ruddy cheeks.But stay—a vision in the flame appears:With flowers a village churchyard path is strewn,A youth and maiden hale and young in yearsAre wedded 'midst the blossomings of June.Alas! it scarcely seems but yesterday—For I was that glad youth; and by my sideThere stood, from head to foot in white array,Her face adorned with smiles, my loving bride.The flames burn low; there comes a change of sight.I stand, as once I stood, with bated breathAnd anxious mind, throughout the lengthened night,To watch an awful strife 'twixt life and death.At length the morning broke—outside 'twas gay,But inside, sad; my wife had sweetly smiled,And falling back had calmly passed away,And I was left with Fan, my only child.There courses down my cheek the usual tear—I'll brush it back, and find a brighter theme;See, flames are burning up with ruddy cheer,And I can now discern a sunnier gleam;Aye, aye! and 'tis a brighter theme to thinkHow Fan grew up and was beloved by all,How never from a duty would she shrink,Nor scruple to respond to ev'ry call.Oft would she pluck and save the fairest bloom,Or gather bunches of the rarest flow'rs,And decorate a lonely cottage roomTo brighten up a widow's dreary hours.Her form was seen beside the sick man's bed,To whom she read, and laboured to inspire:And sanctity was in her as she ledOn Sunday morn the simple village choir.But tears course down, the fire again burns low;The brighter th' sun, the darker follows shade,Sweet years flew on—then heaven why was it so?—I see the open grave where Fan was laid.*     *     *     *     *This life is sorrow-burdened: yet if brightAnd framed of worldly bliss without alloy,We should not see the worth of true delight,Nor strive to gain an everlasting joy!

ByJOS. CULLEN SAWTELL.

Beside a simple hearth I sit aloneTo watch the plumes of smoke and fitful blaze,And here reflecting how the time has flown,I see in flames the sights of bygone days:I'm sixty-six, with hair of purest white,My brow is wrinkled in a thousand creeks,And dim is now what once was clearest sight,And hollow what were round and ruddy cheeks.But stay—a vision in the flame appears:With flowers a village churchyard path is strewn,A youth and maiden hale and young in yearsAre wedded 'midst the blossomings of June.Alas! it scarcely seems but yesterday—For I was that glad youth; and by my sideThere stood, from head to foot in white array,Her face adorned with smiles, my loving bride.The flames burn low; there comes a change of sight.I stand, as once I stood, with bated breathAnd anxious mind, throughout the lengthened night,To watch an awful strife 'twixt life and death.At length the morning broke—outside 'twas gay,But inside, sad; my wife had sweetly smiled,And falling back had calmly passed away,And I was left with Fan, my only child.There courses down my cheek the usual tear—I'll brush it back, and find a brighter theme;See, flames are burning up with ruddy cheer,And I can now discern a sunnier gleam;Aye, aye! and 'tis a brighter theme to thinkHow Fan grew up and was beloved by all,How never from a duty would she shrink,Nor scruple to respond to ev'ry call.Oft would she pluck and save the fairest bloom,Or gather bunches of the rarest flow'rs,And decorate a lonely cottage roomTo brighten up a widow's dreary hours.Her form was seen beside the sick man's bed,To whom she read, and laboured to inspire:And sanctity was in her as she ledOn Sunday morn the simple village choir.But tears course down, the fire again burns low;The brighter th' sun, the darker follows shade,Sweet years flew on—then heaven why was it so?—I see the open grave where Fan was laid.*     *     *     *     *This life is sorrow-burdened: yet if brightAnd framed of worldly bliss without alloy,We should not see the worth of true delight,Nor strive to gain an everlasting joy!

Beside a simple hearth I sit aloneTo watch the plumes of smoke and fitful blaze,And here reflecting how the time has flown,I see in flames the sights of bygone days:I'm sixty-six, with hair of purest white,My brow is wrinkled in a thousand creeks,And dim is now what once was clearest sight,And hollow what were round and ruddy cheeks.

But stay—a vision in the flame appears:With flowers a village churchyard path is strewn,A youth and maiden hale and young in yearsAre wedded 'midst the blossomings of June.Alas! it scarcely seems but yesterday—For I was that glad youth; and by my sideThere stood, from head to foot in white array,Her face adorned with smiles, my loving bride.

The flames burn low; there comes a change of sight.I stand, as once I stood, with bated breathAnd anxious mind, throughout the lengthened night,To watch an awful strife 'twixt life and death.At length the morning broke—outside 'twas gay,But inside, sad; my wife had sweetly smiled,And falling back had calmly passed away,And I was left with Fan, my only child.

There courses down my cheek the usual tear—I'll brush it back, and find a brighter theme;See, flames are burning up with ruddy cheer,And I can now discern a sunnier gleam;Aye, aye! and 'tis a brighter theme to thinkHow Fan grew up and was beloved by all,How never from a duty would she shrink,Nor scruple to respond to ev'ry call.

Oft would she pluck and save the fairest bloom,Or gather bunches of the rarest flow'rs,And decorate a lonely cottage roomTo brighten up a widow's dreary hours.Her form was seen beside the sick man's bed,To whom she read, and laboured to inspire:And sanctity was in her as she ledOn Sunday morn the simple village choir.

But tears course down, the fire again burns low;The brighter th' sun, the darker follows shade,Sweet years flew on—then heaven why was it so?—I see the open grave where Fan was laid.

*     *     *     *     *

This life is sorrow-burdened: yet if brightAnd framed of worldly bliss without alloy,We should not see the worth of true delight,Nor strive to gain an everlasting joy!

THE SHEPHERD'S FAIRY.A PASTORALE.ByDARLEY DALE, Author of "Fair Katherine," etc.CHAP. VIIJACK'S SMOCK-FROCK"WADING ACROSS THE ANGRY BOURNE."Fairy's education had been a puzzle to Mrs. Shelley, though at first Jack had taught her to read and write, until she was five years old, when the problem had been solved by the rector, Mr. Leslie, who had always taken a great deal of notice of the pretty child, offering to let her learn with his girls of their governess, who was a Frenchwoman, and from that day Fairy's mornings and afternoons till four o'clock were spent at the rectory, and in the evenings Jack helped her to prepare her lessons for the next day.By this means Jack learnt French, and had access to many books which would otherwise have been impossible for him to get hold of. He made the most of his opportunities, and was always far ahead of Fairy in all her studies except French, and in this Fairy was the teacher, and her silvery laugh was often heard to ring out merrily at Jack's English accent, for she had begun to learn it so early that her accent was perfect; indeed, she seemed to have a gift for languages, so quickly did she pick up French; but then she had a very quick ear and a talent for mimicry, both of which are great helps in learning a foreign language.Once or twice John Shelley—who had a great dread lest his eldest son should spend too much time over books, time which, unless the book was the Bible, the simple shepherd thought wasted—had suggested that Charlie should help Fairy, and Jack look after the sheep, but Fairy soon settled this; Jack could not follow the sheep in the evenings, and as for Charlie, he could read and write and do a little ciphering, but he hated books, and was no use to her at all. The three boys had only been sent to the village school till they were twelve years old, when Jack had been taken away to follow the sheep and learn a shepherd's duties, Willie had gone to sea, and Charlie, for the present, worked in the garden, looked after the pigs and poultry, and helped his mother in various ways."When will Jack be in, John? I want him to do my arithmetic for me," said Fairy, helping herself to a kind of harvest cake, called in Sussex plum-heavy, a dainty that was heavy by nature as well as by name, and the way in which the shepherd and his boys devoured them spoke well for their digestive organs."As soon as he has folded the sheep—that is, about eight o'clock," said the shepherd.And a little after eight, just as Fairy, after a deal of puckering of her pretty brows, had given up her sums in despair, Jack came in. He was a tall, fine, handsome lad of seventeen, darker than his brothers and more like Mrs. Shelley than the shepherd in appearance, with a look of keen, quick intelligence in his brown eyes, and a sweet smile which lighted up his whole face. He was quick in all his actions, and had laid aside his hated crook and changedhis clothes, and washed and seated himself by Fairy's side before he had been ten minutes in the house. Mrs. Shelley looked with pride at her darling son as he bent his curly brown head over Fairy's slate, and in his clear voice, quite free from the Sussex brogue in which his parents and brothers spoke, explained decimal fractions to her.Jack's manner to Fairy was rather a puzzle to his mother, for while it was more deferential than the shepherd's and less familiar than Charlie's, who, when he was clean, Fairy allowed to be on brotherly terms with her, at the same time he assumed a tone of intellectual superiority which Fairy quite acquiesced in and seemed to think quite natural, and yet she ordered him about just as she did the other boys, and he was certainly never so happy as when in her presence and doing her bidding.Sometimes Mrs. Shelley feared for her boy's happiness, for though Fairy was only a child in age and everything else, Jack was five years older, and already his mother dreaded lest his affection and admiration should develop into a stronger feeling, although, for she was very ambitious for her boy, if she could know that in the far future Fairy would respond to the feeling, hope, and not fear, would have been the feeling with which she watched them.When the sums were finished, Mrs. Shelley laid the cloth for supper, while Jack and Fairy discussed their plans for the next day."Where is father?" asked Jack, suddenly."Now coming in to supper; he is cross with you, you naughty boy, because you have not set the wheatear traps properly, and he only caught two dozen," said Fairy.These wheatear traps are excavations in the turf, about a foot long, in the shape of a T. The birds run up the trenches and get entangled by the head in a noose."Well, that is five or six shillings, and there'll be another two dozen poor little things snared to-morrow," said Jack."More, I expect, Jack; your father has been after the traps himself this evening; but here he is, so don't mention them unless he does. Look what Fairy and I have been making for you, Jack. Show him, Fairy," said Mrs. Shelley, who was making a huge hasty pudding over the fire for supper."Yes, look here, Jack: a beautiful smock, a real smock! Isn't it lovely? John insisted on your wearing one, so we made it for your birthday; but don't look so unhappy, I have got a prettier present for you to-morrow," said Fairy, holding the heavy smock up in her tiny fingers."But why did you make me such a thing, mother? You might have known I could not possibly wear it," said Jack, flushing angrily, and ignoring Fairy's part in the manufacture of the unwelcome garb."Not wear it! What do you mean, Jack?" asked the shepherd, as he came in, followed by the other boys."Here's a joke! we shall have a row now," said Charlie, in an undertone, to Willie, boy-like, rejoicing in the prospect."I back old Jack to win this time," whispered Willie."Mean, father? Why, what I say. No power on earth shall induce me to wear a smock frock," said Jack, infusing all the scorn he could muster into the objectionable name of the still more objectionable thing.It was some minutes before the shepherd could take in the full meaning of his son's words. He supposed there was some objection to this smock in particular, for as he wore a smock himself, and his father and grandfather and great-grandfather had done the same before him, it never occurred to him that Jack could object to smocks in general. Shepherds wore smocks; Jack was of course a shepherd because he, John Shelley, was a shepherd, therefore Jack must wear a smock."What is the matter with this smock? Is it too big, or too small, or what?" he asked, slowly."I don't know, I am sure, what size it is; I only know it is no use to me.""But if you have not tried it on, how can you possibly tell? Put it on and let's see," said the shepherd, taking the smock from Fairy and handing it to Jack."I tell you, father, I won't wear a smock; it is bad enough to have to be a shepherd; wear a smock I won't," cried Jack, his eyes flashing dangerously.John Shelley began to understand now; it was pride which was at the bottom of it—pride sprung from all this book-knowledge, which he had always prophesied would lead to no good, and pride which must be trampled upon at once. John had never understood his eldest son, and he could no more enter into the feeling which prompted Jack to shrink from wearing this badge of his lowly calling than he could understand his objection to snaring wheatears."And I tell you, Jack, I will have no more of this folly. It all comes from the books you are always poring over instead of attending to your work.""When have I ever neglected my work? Summer and winter alike, from five in the morning till sunset, am I following the sheep," interrupted Jack, passionately."Hush, Jack, dear, hush!" whispered Mrs. Shelley."Remember you are speaking to your father; and now no more of this. I order you to put on that smock at once, and sit down and get your supper in it.""And I refuse ever to put it on," replied Jack.The shepherd advanced a step towards the angry lad; but Fairy, trembling for the consequences, caught hold of John's arm and held him back, while Mrs. Shelley stood between her husband and Jack, who was shaking with suppressed passion."Do you mean you refuse to obey me?" asked the shepherd."Yes, in this I do," answered Jack, fiercely."Then leave the house until you know how to behave," said the shepherd, seating himself quietly at the supper-table.No need to tell Jack twice to go. Hungry as he was, having had nothing to eat since his early dinner, he turned at once on his heel, and muttering something about never entering it again, he went out and banged the door after him. The next moment Fairy was running after him, her lovely hair floating in the evening breeze as she hooked her arm in his and tried to keep up with his great hasty strides.For ten minutes Jack stalked angrily along, so fast that Fairy had almost to run to keep up with him. He had turned sharp to the left on leaving the field in which the shepherd's house stood, and where he was going Fairy could not think, for the road they were in was only a kind of cart-drift leading to a stream which sprung out of the chalk hills, called the Winter-bourne, a mere tiny brook, which Fairy could leap dry-shod in summer; it was an angry rushing torrent in winter. It was a lovely July evening; the sun had set, but the after-glow still lingered in the western horizon; the pale blue sky was cloudless, and melted away into a delicate green and gold over the purple downs, which caught the golden reflection, and looked like golden hills in the evening light. About two miles to the left of Jack and Fairy lay the picturesque old town of Lewes in an amphitheatre of hills, the grand old castle and its ivy-covered walls forming the most attractive object in the picture; behind them, lay the soft rounded outlines of the range of downs, cold and grey under the darkening eastern sky. But Fairy was not much given to admiring sunsets or going into raptures over the Southdown scenery. She was hungry, and wanted to get back to supper as soon as she could persuade this tiresome angry Jack to come with her; and how to accomplish this was the problem she was anxiously trying to solve as she panted along by Jack's side. Her task would be only half done when she had succeeded in this, but this was the worst half. If she could only bring Jack to reason, she would soon persuade the shepherd to capitulate; he had never refused her anything in her life; many a time had she saved the boys from punishment; she was quite certain he would listen to her now. But Jack! She was by no means so sure of him; he required very delicate manipulation.At last she stopped just as they reached the Winter-bourne, a harmless, innocent-looking little brook, whose violence in winter would have seemed incredible to Jack and Fairy if they had not once had a terrible experience of it.It was when Fairy and Charlie were eight years old. Charlie having seen the brook the day before, swollen and rushing wildly along, challenged Fairy to wade through it; she, unconscious of the change, and remembering it only as a tiny stream which barely covered her little feet, accepted the challenge, declaring it was the easiest thing in the world to do; and the more Charlie protested she would never be able to succeed,the more determined Fairy was to try. But when they reached the bourne and Fairy saw, instead of a tiny brook, an angry stream thirty feet wide, rushing along, and disappearing under the turf, to rise again further on, and, as Charlie told her, run through the priory grounds, where it was deep enough to drown a cow, her heart sank within her."I told you so," said Charlie; "I said you could not do it, but you would not believe me.""But I will do it. Look here, Charlie, it is not deep here, is it? It can't be, you know, we have often played at mud pies where it is now running; it won't come much above my knees," said Fairy, taking off her shoes and socks."You had better not go, Fairy. It mayn't be deep, but it is very rapid; you may be carried away with it," urged Charlie."Bah!" laughed Fairy, dipping her pretty feet into the cold water, and shrieking with delight."Well, wait a minute till I have taken off my shoes, and we'll go together. It will be up to our waists in the middle, I believe," said Charlie; and the next minute the two children were wading across the angry bourne, laughing and screaming with delight, as each step they took the stream ran stronger and deeper.But as they neared the centre of the stream the laughter ceased, and suddenly a wild shriek from Fairy, who was taken off her feet, rent the air, and, to Charlie's horror, he saw her carried away by the angry stream towards the spot where it disappeared under the turf, a horrid, dark-looking ditch. He rushed back to the shore, hoping to have time to lean over the ditch and catch her before she disappeared under it, but as his feet touched the dry land Jack, who luckily had seen the pair going towards the Winter-bourne from the down where he was watching the sheep, and knowing it to be a dangerous place, had come to order them home. Jack now rushed to the spot, and leaning over the mouth of the ditch, caught Fairy before she was carried under it. Luckily for Charlie, Jack had left his crook behind him, or there is no telling what harm he might have done to the child in his rage; as it was, he seized him, and would have beaten him unmercifully only Fairy cried to him to come and wring the water out of her clothes for her.She was none the worse for her adventure, since Jack, in spite of all their entreaties, remorselessly led the culprits home at once, and, in answer to their fears that Mrs. Shelley would be very angry, only hoped she would, and was even cruel enough, as Fairy told him, to say it served them right when the culprits were sent to bed as soon as Mrs. Shelley heard what had happened.It was at this bourne that Fairy now stopped Jack, panting, and exclaiming, "Oh, Jack, do stop; I am so hot and tired, I can't walk another step.""Fairy, why didn't you tell me before, child, and why did you come at all?" asked Jack, reproachfully, though in his heart pleasure at Fairy's coming was almost stronger than his anger with his father, which by this time had nearly vanished, for Jack's temper was as quickly over as it was roused."Why did I come? To bring you back to supper, of course; and why didn't I tell you before to stop? Because you would not have listened if I had when you were in such a rage, you tiresome, cross boy, you.""I am not in a rage now, Fairy, only I am not going to wear a smock. But where is your hat? You will catch cold.""Of course I shall; I feel rather chilly now. Do take me home, Jack, before it comes on bad," said the little hypocrite, who never caught cold by any chance."I'll go back to the house with you, Fairy, but I can't come in, you know. Father has turned me out.""Oh, I know; John is as bad as you. Between you both you'll bring me and mother to a sick bed, quarrelling in this way. You ought both to be ashamed of yourselves, and all about a stupid smock frock. I don't know which is the silliest about it, you or John.""I am sure, Fairy, you would not like to see me in a smock," interrupted Jack."I never said I should, but you need not have put yourself in such a temper about it, worrying me in this way, and teasing me when I am so hungry. Aren't you very sorry, sir?""Yes, you know I am, Fairy, but I can't and won't wear that smock. I'll keep it all my life, because you made it, but I will never——""Oh, do stop; I am so tired of that 'I won't wear a smock.' We will write a song for the next sheep-shearing, and that shall be the chorus. I am sure you will sing it most lustily. Now there's John to manage. Now, will you promise me faithfully to wait out here in the garden while I go and talk to him?""Yes, I promise," said Jack, as they reached the shepherd's house, and Fairy, leaving him outside, went in to propitiate his father.The others were at supper, or at least, Mr. and Mrs. Shelley were sitting at the table; the boys had gone to bed."Where is Jack, Fairy?" asked Mrs. Shelley."He is outside, waiting for John to go and bring him in to supper, and I am so hungry; do go, John," said Fairy, putting one of her slender arms round the shepherd's neck.John put up one of his brown weather-beaten hands, and took hold of the little delicate white hand resting coaxingly on his shoulder as he answered, "Fairy, Jack has behaved very badly.""Perhaps he has, but he is very sorry," whispered Fairy."Well, for your sake I'll forgive him, then," said the shepherd, rising from his seat."Yes, but wait a minute, John. He is very sorry, but he won't wear a smock, so it won't be the least bit of use your asking him," said Fairy."I knew he wouldn't, and if Fairy can't persuade him it is no use your making any more fuss about it. Do, for goodness sake, drop it, John, and fetch the lad in to supper. You can't force a boy of his age as a child of twelve, and, after all, he does his work just as well without a smock as with one, so do let us have peace," said Mrs. Shelley, who had been arguing the vexed question with her husband during Jack's absence."That is not the point. The question is, who is to be master in this house, Jack or I?" said the shepherd, seating himself again."Nonsense! the only question is, are you going to drive your son, as good a son as man can have, away from his home to rack and ruin for the sake of a whim of yours? Times have changed since you were young; people don't do as they did. My mother followed the sheep in shearing-time, but that is no reason why I should do the same.""Times may have changed, but sons still obey their fathers, and a man is still master in his own house, and if not he ought to be; at any rate, I mean to be master in mine," said John."And I mean to be mistress, and I say Jack shan't wear a smock. I hate the ugly things, and if Jack goes away I'll go away too," burst out Fairy, stamping her little foot, and then, as if half-alarmed and half-afraid of the effect of her words, she threw herself into Mrs. Shelley's arms, sobbing out, "and you are very unkind to me, as well as to Jack."Fairy's violence surprised the shepherd into rising from his seat, but when she burst into tears he laid his hand on her golden head, and saying, "Well, well, well, we won't say any more about it," he went out of the house.What passed between the shepherd and his son no one ever knew, but they came in to supper together a few minutes later, both of them rather grave, but on good terms with each other. And Jack never wore the smock.(To be continued.)

A PASTORALE.

ByDARLEY DALE, Author of "Fair Katherine," etc.

JACK'S SMOCK-FROCK

"WADING ACROSS THE ANGRY BOURNE."

"WADING ACROSS THE ANGRY BOURNE."

Fairy's education had been a puzzle to Mrs. Shelley, though at first Jack had taught her to read and write, until she was five years old, when the problem had been solved by the rector, Mr. Leslie, who had always taken a great deal of notice of the pretty child, offering to let her learn with his girls of their governess, who was a Frenchwoman, and from that day Fairy's mornings and afternoons till four o'clock were spent at the rectory, and in the evenings Jack helped her to prepare her lessons for the next day.

By this means Jack learnt French, and had access to many books which would otherwise have been impossible for him to get hold of. He made the most of his opportunities, and was always far ahead of Fairy in all her studies except French, and in this Fairy was the teacher, and her silvery laugh was often heard to ring out merrily at Jack's English accent, for she had begun to learn it so early that her accent was perfect; indeed, she seemed to have a gift for languages, so quickly did she pick up French; but then she had a very quick ear and a talent for mimicry, both of which are great helps in learning a foreign language.

Once or twice John Shelley—who had a great dread lest his eldest son should spend too much time over books, time which, unless the book was the Bible, the simple shepherd thought wasted—had suggested that Charlie should help Fairy, and Jack look after the sheep, but Fairy soon settled this; Jack could not follow the sheep in the evenings, and as for Charlie, he could read and write and do a little ciphering, but he hated books, and was no use to her at all. The three boys had only been sent to the village school till they were twelve years old, when Jack had been taken away to follow the sheep and learn a shepherd's duties, Willie had gone to sea, and Charlie, for the present, worked in the garden, looked after the pigs and poultry, and helped his mother in various ways.

"When will Jack be in, John? I want him to do my arithmetic for me," said Fairy, helping herself to a kind of harvest cake, called in Sussex plum-heavy, a dainty that was heavy by nature as well as by name, and the way in which the shepherd and his boys devoured them spoke well for their digestive organs.

"As soon as he has folded the sheep—that is, about eight o'clock," said the shepherd.

And a little after eight, just as Fairy, after a deal of puckering of her pretty brows, had given up her sums in despair, Jack came in. He was a tall, fine, handsome lad of seventeen, darker than his brothers and more like Mrs. Shelley than the shepherd in appearance, with a look of keen, quick intelligence in his brown eyes, and a sweet smile which lighted up his whole face. He was quick in all his actions, and had laid aside his hated crook and changedhis clothes, and washed and seated himself by Fairy's side before he had been ten minutes in the house. Mrs. Shelley looked with pride at her darling son as he bent his curly brown head over Fairy's slate, and in his clear voice, quite free from the Sussex brogue in which his parents and brothers spoke, explained decimal fractions to her.

Jack's manner to Fairy was rather a puzzle to his mother, for while it was more deferential than the shepherd's and less familiar than Charlie's, who, when he was clean, Fairy allowed to be on brotherly terms with her, at the same time he assumed a tone of intellectual superiority which Fairy quite acquiesced in and seemed to think quite natural, and yet she ordered him about just as she did the other boys, and he was certainly never so happy as when in her presence and doing her bidding.

Sometimes Mrs. Shelley feared for her boy's happiness, for though Fairy was only a child in age and everything else, Jack was five years older, and already his mother dreaded lest his affection and admiration should develop into a stronger feeling, although, for she was very ambitious for her boy, if she could know that in the far future Fairy would respond to the feeling, hope, and not fear, would have been the feeling with which she watched them.

When the sums were finished, Mrs. Shelley laid the cloth for supper, while Jack and Fairy discussed their plans for the next day.

"Where is father?" asked Jack, suddenly.

"Now coming in to supper; he is cross with you, you naughty boy, because you have not set the wheatear traps properly, and he only caught two dozen," said Fairy.

These wheatear traps are excavations in the turf, about a foot long, in the shape of a T. The birds run up the trenches and get entangled by the head in a noose.

"Well, that is five or six shillings, and there'll be another two dozen poor little things snared to-morrow," said Jack.

"More, I expect, Jack; your father has been after the traps himself this evening; but here he is, so don't mention them unless he does. Look what Fairy and I have been making for you, Jack. Show him, Fairy," said Mrs. Shelley, who was making a huge hasty pudding over the fire for supper.

"Yes, look here, Jack: a beautiful smock, a real smock! Isn't it lovely? John insisted on your wearing one, so we made it for your birthday; but don't look so unhappy, I have got a prettier present for you to-morrow," said Fairy, holding the heavy smock up in her tiny fingers.

"But why did you make me such a thing, mother? You might have known I could not possibly wear it," said Jack, flushing angrily, and ignoring Fairy's part in the manufacture of the unwelcome garb.

"Not wear it! What do you mean, Jack?" asked the shepherd, as he came in, followed by the other boys.

"Here's a joke! we shall have a row now," said Charlie, in an undertone, to Willie, boy-like, rejoicing in the prospect.

"I back old Jack to win this time," whispered Willie.

"Mean, father? Why, what I say. No power on earth shall induce me to wear a smock frock," said Jack, infusing all the scorn he could muster into the objectionable name of the still more objectionable thing.

It was some minutes before the shepherd could take in the full meaning of his son's words. He supposed there was some objection to this smock in particular, for as he wore a smock himself, and his father and grandfather and great-grandfather had done the same before him, it never occurred to him that Jack could object to smocks in general. Shepherds wore smocks; Jack was of course a shepherd because he, John Shelley, was a shepherd, therefore Jack must wear a smock.

"What is the matter with this smock? Is it too big, or too small, or what?" he asked, slowly.

"I don't know, I am sure, what size it is; I only know it is no use to me."

"But if you have not tried it on, how can you possibly tell? Put it on and let's see," said the shepherd, taking the smock from Fairy and handing it to Jack.

"I tell you, father, I won't wear a smock; it is bad enough to have to be a shepherd; wear a smock I won't," cried Jack, his eyes flashing dangerously.

John Shelley began to understand now; it was pride which was at the bottom of it—pride sprung from all this book-knowledge, which he had always prophesied would lead to no good, and pride which must be trampled upon at once. John had never understood his eldest son, and he could no more enter into the feeling which prompted Jack to shrink from wearing this badge of his lowly calling than he could understand his objection to snaring wheatears.

"And I tell you, Jack, I will have no more of this folly. It all comes from the books you are always poring over instead of attending to your work."

"When have I ever neglected my work? Summer and winter alike, from five in the morning till sunset, am I following the sheep," interrupted Jack, passionately.

"Hush, Jack, dear, hush!" whispered Mrs. Shelley.

"Remember you are speaking to your father; and now no more of this. I order you to put on that smock at once, and sit down and get your supper in it."

"And I refuse ever to put it on," replied Jack.

The shepherd advanced a step towards the angry lad; but Fairy, trembling for the consequences, caught hold of John's arm and held him back, while Mrs. Shelley stood between her husband and Jack, who was shaking with suppressed passion.

"Do you mean you refuse to obey me?" asked the shepherd.

"Yes, in this I do," answered Jack, fiercely.

"Then leave the house until you know how to behave," said the shepherd, seating himself quietly at the supper-table.

No need to tell Jack twice to go. Hungry as he was, having had nothing to eat since his early dinner, he turned at once on his heel, and muttering something about never entering it again, he went out and banged the door after him. The next moment Fairy was running after him, her lovely hair floating in the evening breeze as she hooked her arm in his and tried to keep up with his great hasty strides.

For ten minutes Jack stalked angrily along, so fast that Fairy had almost to run to keep up with him. He had turned sharp to the left on leaving the field in which the shepherd's house stood, and where he was going Fairy could not think, for the road they were in was only a kind of cart-drift leading to a stream which sprung out of the chalk hills, called the Winter-bourne, a mere tiny brook, which Fairy could leap dry-shod in summer; it was an angry rushing torrent in winter. It was a lovely July evening; the sun had set, but the after-glow still lingered in the western horizon; the pale blue sky was cloudless, and melted away into a delicate green and gold over the purple downs, which caught the golden reflection, and looked like golden hills in the evening light. About two miles to the left of Jack and Fairy lay the picturesque old town of Lewes in an amphitheatre of hills, the grand old castle and its ivy-covered walls forming the most attractive object in the picture; behind them, lay the soft rounded outlines of the range of downs, cold and grey under the darkening eastern sky. But Fairy was not much given to admiring sunsets or going into raptures over the Southdown scenery. She was hungry, and wanted to get back to supper as soon as she could persuade this tiresome angry Jack to come with her; and how to accomplish this was the problem she was anxiously trying to solve as she panted along by Jack's side. Her task would be only half done when she had succeeded in this, but this was the worst half. If she could only bring Jack to reason, she would soon persuade the shepherd to capitulate; he had never refused her anything in her life; many a time had she saved the boys from punishment; she was quite certain he would listen to her now. But Jack! She was by no means so sure of him; he required very delicate manipulation.

At last she stopped just as they reached the Winter-bourne, a harmless, innocent-looking little brook, whose violence in winter would have seemed incredible to Jack and Fairy if they had not once had a terrible experience of it.

It was when Fairy and Charlie were eight years old. Charlie having seen the brook the day before, swollen and rushing wildly along, challenged Fairy to wade through it; she, unconscious of the change, and remembering it only as a tiny stream which barely covered her little feet, accepted the challenge, declaring it was the easiest thing in the world to do; and the more Charlie protested she would never be able to succeed,the more determined Fairy was to try. But when they reached the bourne and Fairy saw, instead of a tiny brook, an angry stream thirty feet wide, rushing along, and disappearing under the turf, to rise again further on, and, as Charlie told her, run through the priory grounds, where it was deep enough to drown a cow, her heart sank within her.

"I told you so," said Charlie; "I said you could not do it, but you would not believe me."

"But I will do it. Look here, Charlie, it is not deep here, is it? It can't be, you know, we have often played at mud pies where it is now running; it won't come much above my knees," said Fairy, taking off her shoes and socks.

"You had better not go, Fairy. It mayn't be deep, but it is very rapid; you may be carried away with it," urged Charlie.

"Bah!" laughed Fairy, dipping her pretty feet into the cold water, and shrieking with delight.

"Well, wait a minute till I have taken off my shoes, and we'll go together. It will be up to our waists in the middle, I believe," said Charlie; and the next minute the two children were wading across the angry bourne, laughing and screaming with delight, as each step they took the stream ran stronger and deeper.

But as they neared the centre of the stream the laughter ceased, and suddenly a wild shriek from Fairy, who was taken off her feet, rent the air, and, to Charlie's horror, he saw her carried away by the angry stream towards the spot where it disappeared under the turf, a horrid, dark-looking ditch. He rushed back to the shore, hoping to have time to lean over the ditch and catch her before she disappeared under it, but as his feet touched the dry land Jack, who luckily had seen the pair going towards the Winter-bourne from the down where he was watching the sheep, and knowing it to be a dangerous place, had come to order them home. Jack now rushed to the spot, and leaning over the mouth of the ditch, caught Fairy before she was carried under it. Luckily for Charlie, Jack had left his crook behind him, or there is no telling what harm he might have done to the child in his rage; as it was, he seized him, and would have beaten him unmercifully only Fairy cried to him to come and wring the water out of her clothes for her.

She was none the worse for her adventure, since Jack, in spite of all their entreaties, remorselessly led the culprits home at once, and, in answer to their fears that Mrs. Shelley would be very angry, only hoped she would, and was even cruel enough, as Fairy told him, to say it served them right when the culprits were sent to bed as soon as Mrs. Shelley heard what had happened.

It was at this bourne that Fairy now stopped Jack, panting, and exclaiming, "Oh, Jack, do stop; I am so hot and tired, I can't walk another step."

"Fairy, why didn't you tell me before, child, and why did you come at all?" asked Jack, reproachfully, though in his heart pleasure at Fairy's coming was almost stronger than his anger with his father, which by this time had nearly vanished, for Jack's temper was as quickly over as it was roused.

"Why did I come? To bring you back to supper, of course; and why didn't I tell you before to stop? Because you would not have listened if I had when you were in such a rage, you tiresome, cross boy, you."

"I am not in a rage now, Fairy, only I am not going to wear a smock. But where is your hat? You will catch cold."

"Of course I shall; I feel rather chilly now. Do take me home, Jack, before it comes on bad," said the little hypocrite, who never caught cold by any chance.

"I'll go back to the house with you, Fairy, but I can't come in, you know. Father has turned me out."

"Oh, I know; John is as bad as you. Between you both you'll bring me and mother to a sick bed, quarrelling in this way. You ought both to be ashamed of yourselves, and all about a stupid smock frock. I don't know which is the silliest about it, you or John."

"I am sure, Fairy, you would not like to see me in a smock," interrupted Jack.

"I never said I should, but you need not have put yourself in such a temper about it, worrying me in this way, and teasing me when I am so hungry. Aren't you very sorry, sir?"

"Yes, you know I am, Fairy, but I can't and won't wear that smock. I'll keep it all my life, because you made it, but I will never——"

"Oh, do stop; I am so tired of that 'I won't wear a smock.' We will write a song for the next sheep-shearing, and that shall be the chorus. I am sure you will sing it most lustily. Now there's John to manage. Now, will you promise me faithfully to wait out here in the garden while I go and talk to him?"

"Yes, I promise," said Jack, as they reached the shepherd's house, and Fairy, leaving him outside, went in to propitiate his father.

The others were at supper, or at least, Mr. and Mrs. Shelley were sitting at the table; the boys had gone to bed.

"Where is Jack, Fairy?" asked Mrs. Shelley.

"He is outside, waiting for John to go and bring him in to supper, and I am so hungry; do go, John," said Fairy, putting one of her slender arms round the shepherd's neck.

John put up one of his brown weather-beaten hands, and took hold of the little delicate white hand resting coaxingly on his shoulder as he answered, "Fairy, Jack has behaved very badly."

"Perhaps he has, but he is very sorry," whispered Fairy.

"Well, for your sake I'll forgive him, then," said the shepherd, rising from his seat.

"Yes, but wait a minute, John. He is very sorry, but he won't wear a smock, so it won't be the least bit of use your asking him," said Fairy.

"I knew he wouldn't, and if Fairy can't persuade him it is no use your making any more fuss about it. Do, for goodness sake, drop it, John, and fetch the lad in to supper. You can't force a boy of his age as a child of twelve, and, after all, he does his work just as well without a smock as with one, so do let us have peace," said Mrs. Shelley, who had been arguing the vexed question with her husband during Jack's absence.

"That is not the point. The question is, who is to be master in this house, Jack or I?" said the shepherd, seating himself again.

"Nonsense! the only question is, are you going to drive your son, as good a son as man can have, away from his home to rack and ruin for the sake of a whim of yours? Times have changed since you were young; people don't do as they did. My mother followed the sheep in shearing-time, but that is no reason why I should do the same."

"Times may have changed, but sons still obey their fathers, and a man is still master in his own house, and if not he ought to be; at any rate, I mean to be master in mine," said John.

"And I mean to be mistress, and I say Jack shan't wear a smock. I hate the ugly things, and if Jack goes away I'll go away too," burst out Fairy, stamping her little foot, and then, as if half-alarmed and half-afraid of the effect of her words, she threw herself into Mrs. Shelley's arms, sobbing out, "and you are very unkind to me, as well as to Jack."

Fairy's violence surprised the shepherd into rising from his seat, but when she burst into tears he laid his hand on her golden head, and saying, "Well, well, well, we won't say any more about it," he went out of the house.

What passed between the shepherd and his son no one ever knew, but they came in to supper together a few minutes later, both of them rather grave, but on good terms with each other. And Jack never wore the smock.

(To be continued.)

VARIETIES.Selfish Man!"My darling little wife," said a husband, "you will be pleased to hear I have just insured my life.""Yes, of course," replied the wife, "there it is again—another proof of how utterly selfish and inconsiderate men are, always thinking of themselves. Naturally, it never occurred to you to insure my life."A Lesson in Courtesy.—"My child," said a father to his daughter, "treat everybody with politeness, even though they are rude to you. For remember that you show courtesy to others, not because they are ladies, but because you are one."Snail Cough-mixture.—The following glimpse of an old lady's pharmacopœia in the middle of last century is got from a letter of Mrs. Delany's written in January, 1758:—"Does Mary cough in the night? Two or three snails boiled in her barley-water or tea-water, or whatever she drinks, might be of great service to her; taken in time they have done wonderful cures. She must know nothing of it. They give no manner of taste. It would be best nobody should know it but yourself, and I should imagine six or eight boiled in a quart of water and strained off and put in a bottle would be a good way, adding a spoonful or two of that to every liquid she takes. They must be fresh done every two or three days, otherwise they grow too thick."The Truth about Wives.Some wicked wits have libelled all the fair.With matchless impudence they call a wifeThe dear-bought curse and lawful plague of life;A bosom serpent, a domestic evil.*     *     *     *     *Let not the wise these slanderous words regard,But curse the bones of every lying bard;All other goods by fortune's hand are given—A wife is the peculiar gift of heaven.A wife! Oh, gentle deities, can heThat has a wife e'er feel adversity?Would men but follow what the sex advise,All things would prosper, all the world grow wise.—Pope.A Novelist's Tale.—Why is a novelist an unnatural phenomenon? Because his tale comes out of his head.Sunshine at Home.—No trait of character is more valuable in a woman than a sweet temper. Home can never be made happy without it. It is like the flowers that spring up in our pathway, reviving and cheering us. Let a man go home at night, wearied and worn by the toils of the day, and how soothing is a word dictated by a good disposition! It is sunshine falling on his heart. He is happy, and the cares of life are forgotten."What Does Yf Spell?""Bad spelling," says Benjamin Franklin in one of his letters, "is generally the best, as conforming to the sound of the letters and of the words. To give you an instance: a gentleman received a letter in which were these words, 'Not finding Brown at hom, I delivered your meseg to his yf.' The gentleman, finding it bad spelling, and therefore not very intelligible, called his lady to help him to read it. Between them they picked out the meaning of all but the yf, which they could not understand. The lady proposed to called her chambermaid, 'because Betty,' says she, 'has the best knack at reading bad spelling of anyone I know!' Betty came and was surprised that neither sir nor madame could tell what yf was."'Why,' says she, 'y—f spells wife; what else can it spell?'"And, indeed, it is a much better, as well as shorter, method of spelling wife than doubleyou-i-ef-e, which in reality spells double-uifey."The Height of Woman.—Given sixty-six inches as the average height of a man, the average height of a woman is sixty-three inches.—Charles Blanc.Little Minds.—It is the characteristic of little and frivolous minds to be wholly occupied with the vulgar objects of life.—Blair.

Selfish Man!

"My darling little wife," said a husband, "you will be pleased to hear I have just insured my life."

"Yes, of course," replied the wife, "there it is again—another proof of how utterly selfish and inconsiderate men are, always thinking of themselves. Naturally, it never occurred to you to insure my life."

A Lesson in Courtesy.—"My child," said a father to his daughter, "treat everybody with politeness, even though they are rude to you. For remember that you show courtesy to others, not because they are ladies, but because you are one."

Snail Cough-mixture.—The following glimpse of an old lady's pharmacopœia in the middle of last century is got from a letter of Mrs. Delany's written in January, 1758:—"Does Mary cough in the night? Two or three snails boiled in her barley-water or tea-water, or whatever she drinks, might be of great service to her; taken in time they have done wonderful cures. She must know nothing of it. They give no manner of taste. It would be best nobody should know it but yourself, and I should imagine six or eight boiled in a quart of water and strained off and put in a bottle would be a good way, adding a spoonful or two of that to every liquid she takes. They must be fresh done every two or three days, otherwise they grow too thick."

The Truth about Wives.

Some wicked wits have libelled all the fair.With matchless impudence they call a wifeThe dear-bought curse and lawful plague of life;A bosom serpent, a domestic evil.*     *     *     *     *Let not the wise these slanderous words regard,But curse the bones of every lying bard;All other goods by fortune's hand are given—A wife is the peculiar gift of heaven.A wife! Oh, gentle deities, can heThat has a wife e'er feel adversity?Would men but follow what the sex advise,All things would prosper, all the world grow wise.

Some wicked wits have libelled all the fair.With matchless impudence they call a wifeThe dear-bought curse and lawful plague of life;A bosom serpent, a domestic evil.

*     *     *     *     *

Let not the wise these slanderous words regard,But curse the bones of every lying bard;All other goods by fortune's hand are given—A wife is the peculiar gift of heaven.A wife! Oh, gentle deities, can heThat has a wife e'er feel adversity?Would men but follow what the sex advise,All things would prosper, all the world grow wise.

—Pope.

A Novelist's Tale.—Why is a novelist an unnatural phenomenon? Because his tale comes out of his head.

Sunshine at Home.—No trait of character is more valuable in a woman than a sweet temper. Home can never be made happy without it. It is like the flowers that spring up in our pathway, reviving and cheering us. Let a man go home at night, wearied and worn by the toils of the day, and how soothing is a word dictated by a good disposition! It is sunshine falling on his heart. He is happy, and the cares of life are forgotten.

"What Does Yf Spell?"

"Bad spelling," says Benjamin Franklin in one of his letters, "is generally the best, as conforming to the sound of the letters and of the words. To give you an instance: a gentleman received a letter in which were these words, 'Not finding Brown at hom, I delivered your meseg to his yf.' The gentleman, finding it bad spelling, and therefore not very intelligible, called his lady to help him to read it. Between them they picked out the meaning of all but the yf, which they could not understand. The lady proposed to called her chambermaid, 'because Betty,' says she, 'has the best knack at reading bad spelling of anyone I know!' Betty came and was surprised that neither sir nor madame could tell what yf was.

"'Why,' says she, 'y—f spells wife; what else can it spell?'

"And, indeed, it is a much better, as well as shorter, method of spelling wife than doubleyou-i-ef-e, which in reality spells double-uifey."

The Height of Woman.—Given sixty-six inches as the average height of a man, the average height of a woman is sixty-three inches.—Charles Blanc.

Little Minds.—It is the characteristic of little and frivolous minds to be wholly occupied with the vulgar objects of life.—Blair.

ANSWERS TO CORRESPONDENTS.EDUCATIONAL.Tom.—We think that you might be received as a pupil at a school in Dresden, before recommended by us. Write to the matron, Frau Johanna Knipp-Frauen, Industrie Schule, Elias Platz, No. 4, Ecke der Sachsen Allée, Zu Dresden. Before attempting to teach the English language she should make herself better acquainted with it. She uses the third person singular and the second in the plural in the same letter, and in addressing one and the same individual.Midge.—We think that the College of Preceptors would meet your wishes better than any other. Write to the secretary, C. R. Hodgson, Esq., 42, Queen-square, Bloomsbury, W.C. You write very well. We may add, that this college grants diplomas to teachers of three grades—associates, licentiates, and fellows—for which persons of both sexes are eligible. Lectures on the theory of teaching are given in the college rooms.Ada Belle.—Write to the secretary or lady superintendent of the Mildmay Deaconesses' Institution, Mildmay Park, N., of which there is a branch home at 9, 11, and 15, Effra-road, Brixton, S.W.Laura.—1. See our answer to "Chatterbox." The mere question of having obtained educational certificates does not include all that is required of a governess. 2. The phrase, to "leave no stone unturned," is taken from "Euripides," and may be traced to a response of the Delphic oracle to Polycrates, with reference to the finding of treasure buried by Xerxes' general, Mardonius, on the field of Platæa. Literally given, it was "Turn every stone." We think it was a very safe answer, and did not require supernatural wisdom to dictate it.Guardian.—We advise you to write to the chaplain of the Rue d'Aguesseau Church, Paris, the Rev. T. Howard Gill, for information and advice respecting the education of English girls in France. See answer to "Anxious Mother."Renee Vivian.—1. If you refer to our recent answers to such queries as yours, under the above heading, you will find a reference to a shilling manual, called a "Directory of Girls' Clubs," educational, religious, and industrial. The ages of the students vary in many of them, and so do the other rules. Write for it to Messrs. Griffith and Farran, St. Paul's-churchyard, E.C. 2. The quotation, "Call us not weeds," etc., is from "The Mother's Fables," by E. L. Aveline. Our society (the Religious Tract Society) has depôts all over the kingdom.Un vrai Singe.—Apply to Miss Leigh for advice and information, Avenue Wagram, No. 44, Paris.ART.Winnipeg.—The best plan for disposing of valuable pictures is to send them to Christie and Manson's, King-street, S.W., and put a reserve price upon them, in case of a small and unsatisfactory competition.Star of the South.—1. We do not think it possible for you to obtain a livelihood by tinting photographs, and must especially warn you against answering advertisements professing to give remunerative employment to ladies in this way. 2. There are plenty of pottery works at Stafford, but they would not teach you pottery painting unless you were one of their workpeople and gave up your whole time to them. You would receive very little money at first, and might never become a first-class proficient at the work. Your better plan would be to take a few private lessons, and find out what your capabilities were before giving up an employment of which you are sure.MUSIC.Annie James.—People are usually asked to sing at concerts. You may be sure, when they know you can sing, you will soon be asked; but if you find any occasion when you think it would be an act of kindness to volunteer to do so, there is nothing to prevent your giving your assistance.Gertrude May.—Certainly, offer your services if you can be of use.A. Andrews.—We are happy to hear that our notices have led so many to take advantage of your Musical Improvement Association. The fact that three extra prizes may be gained by those who have practised the greatest number of extra hours, and that musical soirées are occasionally given at Queenstown by the members, form distinctive attractions to your society.Fiddlestring.—Take your compositions to any music publisher's, and they will give you every information. You will find a list in the London Directory.Sister Elizabethcould study harmony by herself very well, and make good progress. The Primers of Messrs. Novello and Co. are very good indeed.Narcissus.—The Royal College of Music is at Kensington-gore, S.W.; principal, Sir George Grove; hon. secretary, Charles Morley; fee for tuition only, £40 per annum. Lodgings for students named if desired.Snowdrop, No. 100.—You have begun singing too early. Get an opinion at an eye or ear infirmary, or a good experienced doctor. Your writing is particularly good.MISCELLANEOUS.Gwen H. M.—Express your regret at having forgotten yourself and spoken in temper disrespectfully to your mistress. You can do no more; but she can be compelled to give you a character, although giving her own version of the cause of your dismissal.Inquisitive.—The 18th of January, 1872, was a Thursday, and the 14th of March a Thursday. Reverse the method you have adopted of making heavy upper strokes and light down ones.Dots.—The words "speciality" and "specialty" are synonymous, and may both be used; but the former is adopted by our best writers—as, for example, the novelists Bulwer-Lytton, and Dickens, the poet Elizabeth B. Browning, and the theological historian, Hooker. Nevertheless, Shakespeare says "specialty," but that may have been the old word of a former age, and such could not govern modern usages.Regretfulneed not feel unhappy about a kindly act of sympathy. The letter was doubtless written in suitable terms. Her verses have a good deal of prettiness and sweetness about them; but she needs to study the rules of metrical composition, as a good many errors appear in her lines. We direct her attention to previous answers.A. M. L.—1. We are perpetually telling our girls that it is very unladylike for them to walk out alone with men unless engaged to them, and with the knowledge and consent of their parents. Even if you could not take the trouble of reading out answers to other girls on this subject, why do you not ask the opinion and advice of your mother or aunt, or any lady possessing ordinary common sense and acquaintance with the general rules of propriety. 2. Clean brass with cream of tartar made into a wet paste; brush off when dry, wash in boiling water, and rub with a chamois leather.Little White Oss.—To remove grease from dresses, rub the spots with benzoline and hang them in the air. The word "catechism" is derived from the Greek, and signifies a form of oral instruction in the rudiments of knowledge by way of question and answer. The oral instructions delivered by the early Christian priests to their converts were written down first in the eighth or ninth centuries, the present Church of England Catechism in 1551, and was added to and altered in 1604 by the order of James I. We do not admire your selection of a name. "White Rabbit" or "White Mouse" would have been preferable.Twenty.—Write to our publisher, Mr. Tarn. The Editor has nothing to do with the publishing department.Cecilia.—Good Friday is a Bank Holiday, also Easter Monday, Whit Monday, first Monday in August, Christmas Day, and the day following, or, if that be a Sunday, then the Monday following. In Scotland the holidays are different, being New Year's Day, Good Friday, first Monday in May, first Monday in August, and Christmas Day.White Violet.—September 21st, 1869, was a Friday; June 27th, 1867, was a Thursday. Your other query has been recently answered.Picaninny.—We are glad to hear you have found the G. O. P. so useful. Use gloves.Ira.—We are much obliged, and regret we cannot make use of them.Little Woman.—We think you had better let matters take their natural course. Such a long and intimate acquaintance would be the best commencement for married life, which is too often hastily entered into, and thus ends in disappointment from lack of knowledge of each other's characters and habits.Lizzie F.—An answer has been given to your question very lately.English Girlshould wear a veil in the summer if she fears freckles, and in winter also if her skin be so tender.An Anxious One(Leeds) should consult a doctor without delay.H. A. Chartmust send to Mr. Tarn, 56, Paternoster-row, E.C., for the index and plates, 1s. being required, and postage.Troublesome One.—If you meet a funeral procession accompanying a deceased person, it is in good taste to stop while it passes, and for a man to take off his hat. You do not stop if it merely overtake you, travelling the same way, nor need you to stop, whether riding or driving, if the hearse be empty. The rule is, that all respect be shown to the dead and the grief of the mourners.Isca Wellesley.—How could you so far forget yourself as to send flowers to a strange man? You cannot bow to any man, "peculiar" or not, if he have not been introduced to you. Is it possible that you thought of bowing to a man with whom you were not acquainted? We think your mother would feel tempted to box your ears if she knew that you did!A Hybrid Lass(?).—The three days immediately preceding the Feast of the Ascension were so named because on them litanies were recited by the clergy and people in procession, a custom of which the "beating of bounds" is a relic. Their institution is ascribed to Mamertius, Bishop of Vienna in the fifth century.Chiesahad better consult a doctor, as such things are dangerous for unskilled hands to meddle with. We do not recognise the poem.Azalea.—Such matters must be referred to the decision of each individual conscience, for what one person might consider an enjoyable relaxation another might think wrong. But we must not judge anyone, only act for ourselves, in the fear and love of God.Excelsior.—The line—"Oh, for the touch of a vanished hand"is by Tennyson.Annie'sverses are very good for ten years old, but she will probably improve on them before she is twice ten.A. J. M.—The certificates are all dated Lady Day, 1886. You make a mistake. We think it unnecessary fault finding.Little Gherkins.—1. Although your verses are rather too irregular to be put into the G. O. P., there is much humour about them, and they afforded us a good laugh, for which we thank you, and wish you health to enjoy the paper we provide for you for many a day. 2. Write to the secretary of the convalescent home at Walton-on-Thames, at the office, 32, Sackville-street, W. Admission is free. Get a letter from your doctor to recommend you, and they will take you in for three weeks' change of air.Scotia.—1. It is impossible to make smoke pictures indelible. They should be mounted in deep mounts and framed if worth preserving. 2. The origin of acting as "gooseberry" is found in the unsatisfactory office of a gooseberry gatherer, who undertakes the trouble and bears all the scratching from the thorns for the delectation of others. Thus, the "gooseberry" is the person who, for propriety sake, accompanies two lovers, and is expected to hear, see, and say nothing—i.e., have all the toil and the dulness without the pleasure of companionship.Lollo.—The address of the Governesses' Benevolent Institution is 32, Sackville-street, London. Apply to the secretary for information.Evangeline Grace.—Gather leaves in the early autumn when touched, but not faded, by the frost; dry them thoroughly, and preserve them from decay by giving them a slight coat of varnish.Grace Noel.—We are obliged for your communication about the Colonial Exhibition, and regret that we have not space to publish it. We consider it a very creditable production for a girl of twelve years old.Hattieis probably diminutive for Harriet. We do not understand your question.Janet C.—You had better take your Bible and look out all the places where dreams are mentioned.A. E. T.—The present King of Greece ascended the throne, 30th March, 1863, and married, 27th October, 1867, Olga, eldest daughter of the Grand Duke Constantine of Russia, the present queen. We do not think there is any such word in the dictionary, or out of it.Tie.—The Italian for "How do you do" is "Come sta?" the French, "Comment vous partez-vous?" the German, "Wie befinden sie sich?" The translation of the Latin, "De mortuis," etc., is, "Of the dead say nothing but good."Katrina S.—Some articles on riding were given in the G. O. P. The dress consists of habit, trousers, and low stays.Alice.—Intimate friends and relations give presents at such events as silver weddings, but no others are expected.CONVALESCENCE.Pseudo(Worthing).—1. Not less than eight or nine hours' sleep is needful for young people, so do not stint your rest; get to bed early, and rise at 6.30 or 7 a.m. 2. A very good book on how to teach arithmetic is published by Moffat and Paige, 28, Warwick-lane, Paternoster-row, E.C., price 2s. 6d., as well as other useful manuals for the teacher.Ruth(West Indies).—The account you give of the condition of both head and hair is quite shocking. You had better cut it short, and then wash your head well with plenty of soap, and keep it clean always. Possibly, however, not dirt, but some disease of the scalp may be the cause of the condition you describe. If so, you had better show it to a doctor. But, in any case, you had better cut it short for a time.White Rose(Shepherd's Bush).—You are not too young to be a godmother, but your services to the child will probably be superfluous, as the parents—or, at least, the mother—will see that the child is taught the Lord's Prayer, Creed, and Ten Commandments, and will see that it be confirmed at a suitable age. But you must take care that while praying for the child you are also to set it, and all who know you, a good Christian example of keeping your own vows to God. In ancient times Christian parents were often martyred, and then the responsibility of the child's religious education devolved on the godparents.Mate.—It is not incumbent on a man to call his wife's father and mother by those titles. Many only address them as "Mr." and "Mrs." Nevertheless, it is desirable to do all things that tend to make peace and a friendly feeling rather than the reverse. When a man likes his mother-in-law he sometimes has a pet name for her, such as "Mum" and "Mumsey."May.—You seem to work rather beyond the strength of a girl of fifteen; but, of course, you have not got to "wash for eleven children every day," nor "clean five bedrooms." The cheap velvet slippers you name might wear fairly well in the house.A Youthful Poetfinds herself plunged in great difficulties in the midst of some most obdurate verses, two of which will not accommodate any last line. She writes about "cricket," and about the necessity of being "in her place by the hour" at school, or "get punished in some way not so extreme as awacking." If this youthful poet mistakes us for her muse, and depends on us to inspire her, or to write her verses for her, we can only decline, with thanks for the honour done us. In return, we must strongly recommend her to improve her writing.Bluebell.—In reply to your query, "Why, in sailing round the world eastward, twenty-four hours are gained?" we may explain the fact thus. The world's rotation takes twenty-four hours. If, now, a person be travelling in the direction of rotation, an amount of time is gained proportional to the distance covered. Therefore, in travelling round the equator in the direction of rotation, the total time gained will be proportional to the earth's circumference—in other words, to the distance travelled. Of course, if travelling much below or above the line, the circumference would be less and the result affected.A Male Reader.—You will find our articles on women's Christian names in vol. iv., the parts for October and November, 1882, and for January and March, 1883. Harriett, like Henrietta, is the feminine for Henry, and means "noble," and Emma is the Gothic for "mother."A. L. W.—Yes, seashells are found far inland and high above the present sea-level. In Sweden there are great beds of them, and even barnacles on some of the rocks at Udevalla, fifty miles from the North Sea and seventy from the Baltic. The whole of Scandinavia is rising, and North of Stockholm at the North Cape, at the rate of some six feet in a century.Dolgelly.—We should always regret that the smallest annoyance was caused by any writer in this paper on the characteristics of a county or province of the United Kingdom, and we are not pledged to the opinions gathered by our story-writers, formed from their own experience when resident in such localities. Did "Dolgelly" read the declarations recently made by one of our judges in a court of assize held at Chester?Discontentedshould not worry herself over little disadvantages, for which she is in no way responsible. If so plain as she imagines, it would be well to cultivate beauty in the character, the temper, and the manners. Many plain people make themselves most attractive by the sweetness of their expression and the kindliness of their actions, small as well as great. See page 348, vol. i. 2. Cut your nails once a week.A Foreigner.—You should make your arrangements with a German publisher to translate any English work into German that he may require. Get an introduction to one or more in Germany.Tyza Worrall.—1. If the audience thank you after singing at a village concert, you should thank them by bowing. 2. To lay the tea-things on a coloured cloth is only a piece of economy, not fashionable nor nice. If anything be spilt upon it, it remains dirty, as it cannot be washed on every such occasion like a white linen one. Better to lay the tea on the bare mahogany or oak table. Coloured woollen or cotton cloths have a fusty appearance as connected with meals. We regret your answer should have been delayed.H. G. C.—Write to the hon. secretary, Mrs. Paterson, of the Woman's Protective and Provident League, 36, Great Queen Street, Lincoln's Inn, W.C. The league has a register of work and workers, and protects the trade interests of women.Capricehad better write and inquire about an English translation from the gentleman who edits the French editions in England. The eagle is emblematic of St. John the Evangelist, because he looked on "the Sun of Glory," like the eagle, with undazzled eyes. The eagle was one of the four figures which made up the cherub (Ezek. i. 10). The two outspread wings of the eagle represent the two Testaments, and the use of the eagle to support the lectern was because the eagle is the natural enemy of the serpent."The Campbells are Comin'."—The motto of the Campbells isNe obliviscaris, "You must not forget," or "Do not forget."

Tom.—We think that you might be received as a pupil at a school in Dresden, before recommended by us. Write to the matron, Frau Johanna Knipp-Frauen, Industrie Schule, Elias Platz, No. 4, Ecke der Sachsen Allée, Zu Dresden. Before attempting to teach the English language she should make herself better acquainted with it. She uses the third person singular and the second in the plural in the same letter, and in addressing one and the same individual.Midge.—We think that the College of Preceptors would meet your wishes better than any other. Write to the secretary, C. R. Hodgson, Esq., 42, Queen-square, Bloomsbury, W.C. You write very well. We may add, that this college grants diplomas to teachers of three grades—associates, licentiates, and fellows—for which persons of both sexes are eligible. Lectures on the theory of teaching are given in the college rooms.Ada Belle.—Write to the secretary or lady superintendent of the Mildmay Deaconesses' Institution, Mildmay Park, N., of which there is a branch home at 9, 11, and 15, Effra-road, Brixton, S.W.Laura.—1. See our answer to "Chatterbox." The mere question of having obtained educational certificates does not include all that is required of a governess. 2. The phrase, to "leave no stone unturned," is taken from "Euripides," and may be traced to a response of the Delphic oracle to Polycrates, with reference to the finding of treasure buried by Xerxes' general, Mardonius, on the field of Platæa. Literally given, it was "Turn every stone." We think it was a very safe answer, and did not require supernatural wisdom to dictate it.Guardian.—We advise you to write to the chaplain of the Rue d'Aguesseau Church, Paris, the Rev. T. Howard Gill, for information and advice respecting the education of English girls in France. See answer to "Anxious Mother."Renee Vivian.—1. If you refer to our recent answers to such queries as yours, under the above heading, you will find a reference to a shilling manual, called a "Directory of Girls' Clubs," educational, religious, and industrial. The ages of the students vary in many of them, and so do the other rules. Write for it to Messrs. Griffith and Farran, St. Paul's-churchyard, E.C. 2. The quotation, "Call us not weeds," etc., is from "The Mother's Fables," by E. L. Aveline. Our society (the Religious Tract Society) has depôts all over the kingdom.Un vrai Singe.—Apply to Miss Leigh for advice and information, Avenue Wagram, No. 44, Paris.

Tom.—We think that you might be received as a pupil at a school in Dresden, before recommended by us. Write to the matron, Frau Johanna Knipp-Frauen, Industrie Schule, Elias Platz, No. 4, Ecke der Sachsen Allée, Zu Dresden. Before attempting to teach the English language she should make herself better acquainted with it. She uses the third person singular and the second in the plural in the same letter, and in addressing one and the same individual.

Midge.—We think that the College of Preceptors would meet your wishes better than any other. Write to the secretary, C. R. Hodgson, Esq., 42, Queen-square, Bloomsbury, W.C. You write very well. We may add, that this college grants diplomas to teachers of three grades—associates, licentiates, and fellows—for which persons of both sexes are eligible. Lectures on the theory of teaching are given in the college rooms.

Ada Belle.—Write to the secretary or lady superintendent of the Mildmay Deaconesses' Institution, Mildmay Park, N., of which there is a branch home at 9, 11, and 15, Effra-road, Brixton, S.W.

Laura.—1. See our answer to "Chatterbox." The mere question of having obtained educational certificates does not include all that is required of a governess. 2. The phrase, to "leave no stone unturned," is taken from "Euripides," and may be traced to a response of the Delphic oracle to Polycrates, with reference to the finding of treasure buried by Xerxes' general, Mardonius, on the field of Platæa. Literally given, it was "Turn every stone." We think it was a very safe answer, and did not require supernatural wisdom to dictate it.

Guardian.—We advise you to write to the chaplain of the Rue d'Aguesseau Church, Paris, the Rev. T. Howard Gill, for information and advice respecting the education of English girls in France. See answer to "Anxious Mother."

Renee Vivian.—1. If you refer to our recent answers to such queries as yours, under the above heading, you will find a reference to a shilling manual, called a "Directory of Girls' Clubs," educational, religious, and industrial. The ages of the students vary in many of them, and so do the other rules. Write for it to Messrs. Griffith and Farran, St. Paul's-churchyard, E.C. 2. The quotation, "Call us not weeds," etc., is from "The Mother's Fables," by E. L. Aveline. Our society (the Religious Tract Society) has depôts all over the kingdom.

Un vrai Singe.—Apply to Miss Leigh for advice and information, Avenue Wagram, No. 44, Paris.

Winnipeg.—The best plan for disposing of valuable pictures is to send them to Christie and Manson's, King-street, S.W., and put a reserve price upon them, in case of a small and unsatisfactory competition.Star of the South.—1. We do not think it possible for you to obtain a livelihood by tinting photographs, and must especially warn you against answering advertisements professing to give remunerative employment to ladies in this way. 2. There are plenty of pottery works at Stafford, but they would not teach you pottery painting unless you were one of their workpeople and gave up your whole time to them. You would receive very little money at first, and might never become a first-class proficient at the work. Your better plan would be to take a few private lessons, and find out what your capabilities were before giving up an employment of which you are sure.

Winnipeg.—The best plan for disposing of valuable pictures is to send them to Christie and Manson's, King-street, S.W., and put a reserve price upon them, in case of a small and unsatisfactory competition.

Star of the South.—1. We do not think it possible for you to obtain a livelihood by tinting photographs, and must especially warn you against answering advertisements professing to give remunerative employment to ladies in this way. 2. There are plenty of pottery works at Stafford, but they would not teach you pottery painting unless you were one of their workpeople and gave up your whole time to them. You would receive very little money at first, and might never become a first-class proficient at the work. Your better plan would be to take a few private lessons, and find out what your capabilities were before giving up an employment of which you are sure.

Annie James.—People are usually asked to sing at concerts. You may be sure, when they know you can sing, you will soon be asked; but if you find any occasion when you think it would be an act of kindness to volunteer to do so, there is nothing to prevent your giving your assistance.Gertrude May.—Certainly, offer your services if you can be of use.A. Andrews.—We are happy to hear that our notices have led so many to take advantage of your Musical Improvement Association. The fact that three extra prizes may be gained by those who have practised the greatest number of extra hours, and that musical soirées are occasionally given at Queenstown by the members, form distinctive attractions to your society.Fiddlestring.—Take your compositions to any music publisher's, and they will give you every information. You will find a list in the London Directory.Sister Elizabethcould study harmony by herself very well, and make good progress. The Primers of Messrs. Novello and Co. are very good indeed.Narcissus.—The Royal College of Music is at Kensington-gore, S.W.; principal, Sir George Grove; hon. secretary, Charles Morley; fee for tuition only, £40 per annum. Lodgings for students named if desired.Snowdrop, No. 100.—You have begun singing too early. Get an opinion at an eye or ear infirmary, or a good experienced doctor. Your writing is particularly good.

Annie James.—People are usually asked to sing at concerts. You may be sure, when they know you can sing, you will soon be asked; but if you find any occasion when you think it would be an act of kindness to volunteer to do so, there is nothing to prevent your giving your assistance.

Gertrude May.—Certainly, offer your services if you can be of use.

A. Andrews.—We are happy to hear that our notices have led so many to take advantage of your Musical Improvement Association. The fact that three extra prizes may be gained by those who have practised the greatest number of extra hours, and that musical soirées are occasionally given at Queenstown by the members, form distinctive attractions to your society.

Fiddlestring.—Take your compositions to any music publisher's, and they will give you every information. You will find a list in the London Directory.

Sister Elizabethcould study harmony by herself very well, and make good progress. The Primers of Messrs. Novello and Co. are very good indeed.

Narcissus.—The Royal College of Music is at Kensington-gore, S.W.; principal, Sir George Grove; hon. secretary, Charles Morley; fee for tuition only, £40 per annum. Lodgings for students named if desired.

Snowdrop, No. 100.—You have begun singing too early. Get an opinion at an eye or ear infirmary, or a good experienced doctor. Your writing is particularly good.

Gwen H. M.—Express your regret at having forgotten yourself and spoken in temper disrespectfully to your mistress. You can do no more; but she can be compelled to give you a character, although giving her own version of the cause of your dismissal.Inquisitive.—The 18th of January, 1872, was a Thursday, and the 14th of March a Thursday. Reverse the method you have adopted of making heavy upper strokes and light down ones.Dots.—The words "speciality" and "specialty" are synonymous, and may both be used; but the former is adopted by our best writers—as, for example, the novelists Bulwer-Lytton, and Dickens, the poet Elizabeth B. Browning, and the theological historian, Hooker. Nevertheless, Shakespeare says "specialty," but that may have been the old word of a former age, and such could not govern modern usages.Regretfulneed not feel unhappy about a kindly act of sympathy. The letter was doubtless written in suitable terms. Her verses have a good deal of prettiness and sweetness about them; but she needs to study the rules of metrical composition, as a good many errors appear in her lines. We direct her attention to previous answers.A. M. L.—1. We are perpetually telling our girls that it is very unladylike for them to walk out alone with men unless engaged to them, and with the knowledge and consent of their parents. Even if you could not take the trouble of reading out answers to other girls on this subject, why do you not ask the opinion and advice of your mother or aunt, or any lady possessing ordinary common sense and acquaintance with the general rules of propriety. 2. Clean brass with cream of tartar made into a wet paste; brush off when dry, wash in boiling water, and rub with a chamois leather.Little White Oss.—To remove grease from dresses, rub the spots with benzoline and hang them in the air. The word "catechism" is derived from the Greek, and signifies a form of oral instruction in the rudiments of knowledge by way of question and answer. The oral instructions delivered by the early Christian priests to their converts were written down first in the eighth or ninth centuries, the present Church of England Catechism in 1551, and was added to and altered in 1604 by the order of James I. We do not admire your selection of a name. "White Rabbit" or "White Mouse" would have been preferable.Twenty.—Write to our publisher, Mr. Tarn. The Editor has nothing to do with the publishing department.Cecilia.—Good Friday is a Bank Holiday, also Easter Monday, Whit Monday, first Monday in August, Christmas Day, and the day following, or, if that be a Sunday, then the Monday following. In Scotland the holidays are different, being New Year's Day, Good Friday, first Monday in May, first Monday in August, and Christmas Day.White Violet.—September 21st, 1869, was a Friday; June 27th, 1867, was a Thursday. Your other query has been recently answered.Picaninny.—We are glad to hear you have found the G. O. P. so useful. Use gloves.Ira.—We are much obliged, and regret we cannot make use of them.Little Woman.—We think you had better let matters take their natural course. Such a long and intimate acquaintance would be the best commencement for married life, which is too often hastily entered into, and thus ends in disappointment from lack of knowledge of each other's characters and habits.Lizzie F.—An answer has been given to your question very lately.English Girlshould wear a veil in the summer if she fears freckles, and in winter also if her skin be so tender.An Anxious One(Leeds) should consult a doctor without delay.H. A. Chartmust send to Mr. Tarn, 56, Paternoster-row, E.C., for the index and plates, 1s. being required, and postage.Troublesome One.—If you meet a funeral procession accompanying a deceased person, it is in good taste to stop while it passes, and for a man to take off his hat. You do not stop if it merely overtake you, travelling the same way, nor need you to stop, whether riding or driving, if the hearse be empty. The rule is, that all respect be shown to the dead and the grief of the mourners.Isca Wellesley.—How could you so far forget yourself as to send flowers to a strange man? You cannot bow to any man, "peculiar" or not, if he have not been introduced to you. Is it possible that you thought of bowing to a man with whom you were not acquainted? We think your mother would feel tempted to box your ears if she knew that you did!A Hybrid Lass(?).—The three days immediately preceding the Feast of the Ascension were so named because on them litanies were recited by the clergy and people in procession, a custom of which the "beating of bounds" is a relic. Their institution is ascribed to Mamertius, Bishop of Vienna in the fifth century.Chiesahad better consult a doctor, as such things are dangerous for unskilled hands to meddle with. We do not recognise the poem.Azalea.—Such matters must be referred to the decision of each individual conscience, for what one person might consider an enjoyable relaxation another might think wrong. But we must not judge anyone, only act for ourselves, in the fear and love of God.Excelsior.—The line—"Oh, for the touch of a vanished hand"is by Tennyson.Annie'sverses are very good for ten years old, but she will probably improve on them before she is twice ten.A. J. M.—The certificates are all dated Lady Day, 1886. You make a mistake. We think it unnecessary fault finding.Little Gherkins.—1. Although your verses are rather too irregular to be put into the G. O. P., there is much humour about them, and they afforded us a good laugh, for which we thank you, and wish you health to enjoy the paper we provide for you for many a day. 2. Write to the secretary of the convalescent home at Walton-on-Thames, at the office, 32, Sackville-street, W. Admission is free. Get a letter from your doctor to recommend you, and they will take you in for three weeks' change of air.Scotia.—1. It is impossible to make smoke pictures indelible. They should be mounted in deep mounts and framed if worth preserving. 2. The origin of acting as "gooseberry" is found in the unsatisfactory office of a gooseberry gatherer, who undertakes the trouble and bears all the scratching from the thorns for the delectation of others. Thus, the "gooseberry" is the person who, for propriety sake, accompanies two lovers, and is expected to hear, see, and say nothing—i.e., have all the toil and the dulness without the pleasure of companionship.Lollo.—The address of the Governesses' Benevolent Institution is 32, Sackville-street, London. Apply to the secretary for information.Evangeline Grace.—Gather leaves in the early autumn when touched, but not faded, by the frost; dry them thoroughly, and preserve them from decay by giving them a slight coat of varnish.Grace Noel.—We are obliged for your communication about the Colonial Exhibition, and regret that we have not space to publish it. We consider it a very creditable production for a girl of twelve years old.Hattieis probably diminutive for Harriet. We do not understand your question.Janet C.—You had better take your Bible and look out all the places where dreams are mentioned.A. E. T.—The present King of Greece ascended the throne, 30th March, 1863, and married, 27th October, 1867, Olga, eldest daughter of the Grand Duke Constantine of Russia, the present queen. We do not think there is any such word in the dictionary, or out of it.Tie.—The Italian for "How do you do" is "Come sta?" the French, "Comment vous partez-vous?" the German, "Wie befinden sie sich?" The translation of the Latin, "De mortuis," etc., is, "Of the dead say nothing but good."Katrina S.—Some articles on riding were given in the G. O. P. The dress consists of habit, trousers, and low stays.Alice.—Intimate friends and relations give presents at such events as silver weddings, but no others are expected.CONVALESCENCE.Pseudo(Worthing).—1. Not less than eight or nine hours' sleep is needful for young people, so do not stint your rest; get to bed early, and rise at 6.30 or 7 a.m. 2. A very good book on how to teach arithmetic is published by Moffat and Paige, 28, Warwick-lane, Paternoster-row, E.C., price 2s. 6d., as well as other useful manuals for the teacher.Ruth(West Indies).—The account you give of the condition of both head and hair is quite shocking. You had better cut it short, and then wash your head well with plenty of soap, and keep it clean always. Possibly, however, not dirt, but some disease of the scalp may be the cause of the condition you describe. If so, you had better show it to a doctor. But, in any case, you had better cut it short for a time.White Rose(Shepherd's Bush).—You are not too young to be a godmother, but your services to the child will probably be superfluous, as the parents—or, at least, the mother—will see that the child is taught the Lord's Prayer, Creed, and Ten Commandments, and will see that it be confirmed at a suitable age. But you must take care that while praying for the child you are also to set it, and all who know you, a good Christian example of keeping your own vows to God. In ancient times Christian parents were often martyred, and then the responsibility of the child's religious education devolved on the godparents.Mate.—It is not incumbent on a man to call his wife's father and mother by those titles. Many only address them as "Mr." and "Mrs." Nevertheless, it is desirable to do all things that tend to make peace and a friendly feeling rather than the reverse. When a man likes his mother-in-law he sometimes has a pet name for her, such as "Mum" and "Mumsey."May.—You seem to work rather beyond the strength of a girl of fifteen; but, of course, you have not got to "wash for eleven children every day," nor "clean five bedrooms." The cheap velvet slippers you name might wear fairly well in the house.A Youthful Poetfinds herself plunged in great difficulties in the midst of some most obdurate verses, two of which will not accommodate any last line. She writes about "cricket," and about the necessity of being "in her place by the hour" at school, or "get punished in some way not so extreme as awacking." If this youthful poet mistakes us for her muse, and depends on us to inspire her, or to write her verses for her, we can only decline, with thanks for the honour done us. In return, we must strongly recommend her to improve her writing.Bluebell.—In reply to your query, "Why, in sailing round the world eastward, twenty-four hours are gained?" we may explain the fact thus. The world's rotation takes twenty-four hours. If, now, a person be travelling in the direction of rotation, an amount of time is gained proportional to the distance covered. Therefore, in travelling round the equator in the direction of rotation, the total time gained will be proportional to the earth's circumference—in other words, to the distance travelled. Of course, if travelling much below or above the line, the circumference would be less and the result affected.A Male Reader.—You will find our articles on women's Christian names in vol. iv., the parts for October and November, 1882, and for January and March, 1883. Harriett, like Henrietta, is the feminine for Henry, and means "noble," and Emma is the Gothic for "mother."A. L. W.—Yes, seashells are found far inland and high above the present sea-level. In Sweden there are great beds of them, and even barnacles on some of the rocks at Udevalla, fifty miles from the North Sea and seventy from the Baltic. The whole of Scandinavia is rising, and North of Stockholm at the North Cape, at the rate of some six feet in a century.Dolgelly.—We should always regret that the smallest annoyance was caused by any writer in this paper on the characteristics of a county or province of the United Kingdom, and we are not pledged to the opinions gathered by our story-writers, formed from their own experience when resident in such localities. Did "Dolgelly" read the declarations recently made by one of our judges in a court of assize held at Chester?Discontentedshould not worry herself over little disadvantages, for which she is in no way responsible. If so plain as she imagines, it would be well to cultivate beauty in the character, the temper, and the manners. Many plain people make themselves most attractive by the sweetness of their expression and the kindliness of their actions, small as well as great. See page 348, vol. i. 2. Cut your nails once a week.A Foreigner.—You should make your arrangements with a German publisher to translate any English work into German that he may require. Get an introduction to one or more in Germany.Tyza Worrall.—1. If the audience thank you after singing at a village concert, you should thank them by bowing. 2. To lay the tea-things on a coloured cloth is only a piece of economy, not fashionable nor nice. If anything be spilt upon it, it remains dirty, as it cannot be washed on every such occasion like a white linen one. Better to lay the tea on the bare mahogany or oak table. Coloured woollen or cotton cloths have a fusty appearance as connected with meals. We regret your answer should have been delayed.H. G. C.—Write to the hon. secretary, Mrs. Paterson, of the Woman's Protective and Provident League, 36, Great Queen Street, Lincoln's Inn, W.C. The league has a register of work and workers, and protects the trade interests of women.Capricehad better write and inquire about an English translation from the gentleman who edits the French editions in England. The eagle is emblematic of St. John the Evangelist, because he looked on "the Sun of Glory," like the eagle, with undazzled eyes. The eagle was one of the four figures which made up the cherub (Ezek. i. 10). The two outspread wings of the eagle represent the two Testaments, and the use of the eagle to support the lectern was because the eagle is the natural enemy of the serpent."The Campbells are Comin'."—The motto of the Campbells isNe obliviscaris, "You must not forget," or "Do not forget."

Gwen H. M.—Express your regret at having forgotten yourself and spoken in temper disrespectfully to your mistress. You can do no more; but she can be compelled to give you a character, although giving her own version of the cause of your dismissal.

Inquisitive.—The 18th of January, 1872, was a Thursday, and the 14th of March a Thursday. Reverse the method you have adopted of making heavy upper strokes and light down ones.

Dots.—The words "speciality" and "specialty" are synonymous, and may both be used; but the former is adopted by our best writers—as, for example, the novelists Bulwer-Lytton, and Dickens, the poet Elizabeth B. Browning, and the theological historian, Hooker. Nevertheless, Shakespeare says "specialty," but that may have been the old word of a former age, and such could not govern modern usages.

Regretfulneed not feel unhappy about a kindly act of sympathy. The letter was doubtless written in suitable terms. Her verses have a good deal of prettiness and sweetness about them; but she needs to study the rules of metrical composition, as a good many errors appear in her lines. We direct her attention to previous answers.

A. M. L.—1. We are perpetually telling our girls that it is very unladylike for them to walk out alone with men unless engaged to them, and with the knowledge and consent of their parents. Even if you could not take the trouble of reading out answers to other girls on this subject, why do you not ask the opinion and advice of your mother or aunt, or any lady possessing ordinary common sense and acquaintance with the general rules of propriety. 2. Clean brass with cream of tartar made into a wet paste; brush off when dry, wash in boiling water, and rub with a chamois leather.

Little White Oss.—To remove grease from dresses, rub the spots with benzoline and hang them in the air. The word "catechism" is derived from the Greek, and signifies a form of oral instruction in the rudiments of knowledge by way of question and answer. The oral instructions delivered by the early Christian priests to their converts were written down first in the eighth or ninth centuries, the present Church of England Catechism in 1551, and was added to and altered in 1604 by the order of James I. We do not admire your selection of a name. "White Rabbit" or "White Mouse" would have been preferable.

Twenty.—Write to our publisher, Mr. Tarn. The Editor has nothing to do with the publishing department.

Cecilia.—Good Friday is a Bank Holiday, also Easter Monday, Whit Monday, first Monday in August, Christmas Day, and the day following, or, if that be a Sunday, then the Monday following. In Scotland the holidays are different, being New Year's Day, Good Friday, first Monday in May, first Monday in August, and Christmas Day.

White Violet.—September 21st, 1869, was a Friday; June 27th, 1867, was a Thursday. Your other query has been recently answered.

Picaninny.—We are glad to hear you have found the G. O. P. so useful. Use gloves.

Ira.—We are much obliged, and regret we cannot make use of them.

Little Woman.—We think you had better let matters take their natural course. Such a long and intimate acquaintance would be the best commencement for married life, which is too often hastily entered into, and thus ends in disappointment from lack of knowledge of each other's characters and habits.

Lizzie F.—An answer has been given to your question very lately.

English Girlshould wear a veil in the summer if she fears freckles, and in winter also if her skin be so tender.

An Anxious One(Leeds) should consult a doctor without delay.

H. A. Chartmust send to Mr. Tarn, 56, Paternoster-row, E.C., for the index and plates, 1s. being required, and postage.

Troublesome One.—If you meet a funeral procession accompanying a deceased person, it is in good taste to stop while it passes, and for a man to take off his hat. You do not stop if it merely overtake you, travelling the same way, nor need you to stop, whether riding or driving, if the hearse be empty. The rule is, that all respect be shown to the dead and the grief of the mourners.

Isca Wellesley.—How could you so far forget yourself as to send flowers to a strange man? You cannot bow to any man, "peculiar" or not, if he have not been introduced to you. Is it possible that you thought of bowing to a man with whom you were not acquainted? We think your mother would feel tempted to box your ears if she knew that you did!

A Hybrid Lass(?).—The three days immediately preceding the Feast of the Ascension were so named because on them litanies were recited by the clergy and people in procession, a custom of which the "beating of bounds" is a relic. Their institution is ascribed to Mamertius, Bishop of Vienna in the fifth century.

Chiesahad better consult a doctor, as such things are dangerous for unskilled hands to meddle with. We do not recognise the poem.

Azalea.—Such matters must be referred to the decision of each individual conscience, for what one person might consider an enjoyable relaxation another might think wrong. But we must not judge anyone, only act for ourselves, in the fear and love of God.

Excelsior.—The line—

"Oh, for the touch of a vanished hand"

"Oh, for the touch of a vanished hand"

is by Tennyson.

Annie'sverses are very good for ten years old, but she will probably improve on them before she is twice ten.

A. J. M.—The certificates are all dated Lady Day, 1886. You make a mistake. We think it unnecessary fault finding.

Little Gherkins.—1. Although your verses are rather too irregular to be put into the G. O. P., there is much humour about them, and they afforded us a good laugh, for which we thank you, and wish you health to enjoy the paper we provide for you for many a day. 2. Write to the secretary of the convalescent home at Walton-on-Thames, at the office, 32, Sackville-street, W. Admission is free. Get a letter from your doctor to recommend you, and they will take you in for three weeks' change of air.

Scotia.—1. It is impossible to make smoke pictures indelible. They should be mounted in deep mounts and framed if worth preserving. 2. The origin of acting as "gooseberry" is found in the unsatisfactory office of a gooseberry gatherer, who undertakes the trouble and bears all the scratching from the thorns for the delectation of others. Thus, the "gooseberry" is the person who, for propriety sake, accompanies two lovers, and is expected to hear, see, and say nothing—i.e., have all the toil and the dulness without the pleasure of companionship.

Lollo.—The address of the Governesses' Benevolent Institution is 32, Sackville-street, London. Apply to the secretary for information.

Evangeline Grace.—Gather leaves in the early autumn when touched, but not faded, by the frost; dry them thoroughly, and preserve them from decay by giving them a slight coat of varnish.

Grace Noel.—We are obliged for your communication about the Colonial Exhibition, and regret that we have not space to publish it. We consider it a very creditable production for a girl of twelve years old.

Hattieis probably diminutive for Harriet. We do not understand your question.

Janet C.—You had better take your Bible and look out all the places where dreams are mentioned.

A. E. T.—The present King of Greece ascended the throne, 30th March, 1863, and married, 27th October, 1867, Olga, eldest daughter of the Grand Duke Constantine of Russia, the present queen. We do not think there is any such word in the dictionary, or out of it.

Tie.—The Italian for "How do you do" is "Come sta?" the French, "Comment vous partez-vous?" the German, "Wie befinden sie sich?" The translation of the Latin, "De mortuis," etc., is, "Of the dead say nothing but good."

Katrina S.—Some articles on riding were given in the G. O. P. The dress consists of habit, trousers, and low stays.

Alice.—Intimate friends and relations give presents at such events as silver weddings, but no others are expected.

CONVALESCENCE.

CONVALESCENCE.

Pseudo(Worthing).—1. Not less than eight or nine hours' sleep is needful for young people, so do not stint your rest; get to bed early, and rise at 6.30 or 7 a.m. 2. A very good book on how to teach arithmetic is published by Moffat and Paige, 28, Warwick-lane, Paternoster-row, E.C., price 2s. 6d., as well as other useful manuals for the teacher.

Ruth(West Indies).—The account you give of the condition of both head and hair is quite shocking. You had better cut it short, and then wash your head well with plenty of soap, and keep it clean always. Possibly, however, not dirt, but some disease of the scalp may be the cause of the condition you describe. If so, you had better show it to a doctor. But, in any case, you had better cut it short for a time.

White Rose(Shepherd's Bush).—You are not too young to be a godmother, but your services to the child will probably be superfluous, as the parents—or, at least, the mother—will see that the child is taught the Lord's Prayer, Creed, and Ten Commandments, and will see that it be confirmed at a suitable age. But you must take care that while praying for the child you are also to set it, and all who know you, a good Christian example of keeping your own vows to God. In ancient times Christian parents were often martyred, and then the responsibility of the child's religious education devolved on the godparents.

Mate.—It is not incumbent on a man to call his wife's father and mother by those titles. Many only address them as "Mr." and "Mrs." Nevertheless, it is desirable to do all things that tend to make peace and a friendly feeling rather than the reverse. When a man likes his mother-in-law he sometimes has a pet name for her, such as "Mum" and "Mumsey."

May.—You seem to work rather beyond the strength of a girl of fifteen; but, of course, you have not got to "wash for eleven children every day," nor "clean five bedrooms." The cheap velvet slippers you name might wear fairly well in the house.

A Youthful Poetfinds herself plunged in great difficulties in the midst of some most obdurate verses, two of which will not accommodate any last line. She writes about "cricket," and about the necessity of being "in her place by the hour" at school, or "get punished in some way not so extreme as awacking." If this youthful poet mistakes us for her muse, and depends on us to inspire her, or to write her verses for her, we can only decline, with thanks for the honour done us. In return, we must strongly recommend her to improve her writing.

Bluebell.—In reply to your query, "Why, in sailing round the world eastward, twenty-four hours are gained?" we may explain the fact thus. The world's rotation takes twenty-four hours. If, now, a person be travelling in the direction of rotation, an amount of time is gained proportional to the distance covered. Therefore, in travelling round the equator in the direction of rotation, the total time gained will be proportional to the earth's circumference—in other words, to the distance travelled. Of course, if travelling much below or above the line, the circumference would be less and the result affected.

A Male Reader.—You will find our articles on women's Christian names in vol. iv., the parts for October and November, 1882, and for January and March, 1883. Harriett, like Henrietta, is the feminine for Henry, and means "noble," and Emma is the Gothic for "mother."

A. L. W.—Yes, seashells are found far inland and high above the present sea-level. In Sweden there are great beds of them, and even barnacles on some of the rocks at Udevalla, fifty miles from the North Sea and seventy from the Baltic. The whole of Scandinavia is rising, and North of Stockholm at the North Cape, at the rate of some six feet in a century.

Dolgelly.—We should always regret that the smallest annoyance was caused by any writer in this paper on the characteristics of a county or province of the United Kingdom, and we are not pledged to the opinions gathered by our story-writers, formed from their own experience when resident in such localities. Did "Dolgelly" read the declarations recently made by one of our judges in a court of assize held at Chester?

Discontentedshould not worry herself over little disadvantages, for which she is in no way responsible. If so plain as she imagines, it would be well to cultivate beauty in the character, the temper, and the manners. Many plain people make themselves most attractive by the sweetness of their expression and the kindliness of their actions, small as well as great. See page 348, vol. i. 2. Cut your nails once a week.

A Foreigner.—You should make your arrangements with a German publisher to translate any English work into German that he may require. Get an introduction to one or more in Germany.

Tyza Worrall.—1. If the audience thank you after singing at a village concert, you should thank them by bowing. 2. To lay the tea-things on a coloured cloth is only a piece of economy, not fashionable nor nice. If anything be spilt upon it, it remains dirty, as it cannot be washed on every such occasion like a white linen one. Better to lay the tea on the bare mahogany or oak table. Coloured woollen or cotton cloths have a fusty appearance as connected with meals. We regret your answer should have been delayed.

H. G. C.—Write to the hon. secretary, Mrs. Paterson, of the Woman's Protective and Provident League, 36, Great Queen Street, Lincoln's Inn, W.C. The league has a register of work and workers, and protects the trade interests of women.

Capricehad better write and inquire about an English translation from the gentleman who edits the French editions in England. The eagle is emblematic of St. John the Evangelist, because he looked on "the Sun of Glory," like the eagle, with undazzled eyes. The eagle was one of the four figures which made up the cherub (Ezek. i. 10). The two outspread wings of the eagle represent the two Testaments, and the use of the eagle to support the lectern was because the eagle is the natural enemy of the serpent.

"The Campbells are Comin'."—The motto of the Campbells isNe obliviscaris, "You must not forget," or "Do not forget."

TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE.

The following changes have been made to the original text:

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