QUEER STORIES.

PERSONAL TO MR GIMBLETT.

Mr Gimblett, the ex-dctoctive, was seated one morning in his dingy little ofiieo over the furniture shop in the Waterloo-Bridge Road, when his clerk brought in word that " a young person " wished to see him. " Who is she?" inquired Mr Gimblett. ti g he go ys she will tell you her name herself. She has never been here before," Sa» Sggin??" -uggested Mr Gimblett. "< I think not. She doesn't look that sort, and her manner is overbearing," was the young person, did you say?" re marked" Mr Gimblett. ~,... "Yes, sir; young, and not bad-looking neitheri" said tho clerk, who perhaps know his chief's weakness. . ii j sU ppo?c you had bettor show hor in," remarked Mr Gimblott, with an air of anprome indifference Nevertheless, when his clerk's back was turned, ho ran his linircrs through his hair, settled his cravat, a d deftly rearranged the flowers in his button-hole. The "young person" did not belio tho clerk's favourable description—at least, in Mr Gimblott's humble opinion. Sho was voun<', tall, had a good figure, and a pretty face But what chiefly impressed MrGimb lett was tho keon and penetrating glance of her dark eyes and tho hrmnoss of hor mouth and chin. Ho instinctively guessed that ho had boforo him a girl ot unusual shrewdness nnd energy of character, whilo hei'calm solf oossesaion testified to tho strength of hor nerves. Sho was quietly yet becomingly dressed, nnd ther" wasno nttomptto disguise her station in life, which was ovidontly that of a superior sort of domostic sorvnnt. •HPray bo seated," said Mr Gimblett, as 8 "Yon aro Mr Gimblett, I supposo ?'' said th«! visitor, taking possession of a chair, and drawing it ud to tho table. "My nnmo is Martha Chalo. My father used to bo in the force with you." "Oh, yes; I recollect, said MrGimb lett slightly disappointed at this prelude, though ho scarce know why. "I knew your father vory well. He was killed in "that affair ovor Balham way. Very sad I very sad I "1 didn't come to talk about my father," continued Martha Chale, in a cool, matter of-fact tone. "Ho has been dead ten years and more. I only mentioned him ns a sort of introduction." "I understand," said Mr Gimblott, surprised and amused at his visitor's tone andmanner.

"1 want to engage your services in a business way, and I'm quits ready to pay you," said Martha, producing an apparently well-filled purso, andplacingit upon the table. " I'm not one of your extravagant sort, but I'm not mean neither. I know how to wye, but I don't grudge spending." "Excellent! exclaimed Mr Gimblett, \rith involuntary admiration. MThe fact is, I'm beingAwntched by the police, and it's unpleasant," said Martha, "Naturally," acquiesced Mr Gimblott. - I've lost my situation for nothing,.and now my footsteps are dogged night and day. I don't like it, and mother don't like it neither, and, what is more, I ain't going to Martha Chale spoke with considerable asperity nnd vigour, and Mr Gimblott could not holp perceiving that the young woman was blessed with a temper of her nw n Yet the ex-detective thought the flash nfher eyes and the quick rush of colour to L "cheeks became her wonderfully, while he rather admired, than otherwise, tho decision of her tones. , "Quite right," he said benignly; "what is it all about ?" • "Well, it is this: I'vo been living as upper hdusemaidfor the last two years with Mr and Mrs Mortimer, of Park Croßcent. » One moment — Mortimer, Park Cres cent " said Mr Gimblett, as he made a note upon his blotting-pad. ' it There has been a robbery thore lately; - ..iie of Mrs Mortimer's jewellery was stolen ' "• Burglars?' inquired Mr Gimblett. ''»' I know nothing about it," said Martha VJtilile, shrugging her shoulders. "The mIo was opened by seme ono with a key, and the things abstracted. Nobody knows when it was done, except that the things were all right within a few days beforo the C was discovered. That is the wholo story. Iwassentawav." "And none of the other servants ? "No Oh I I know why I was singled ant. Mrs Mortimer is mortal jealous of her han'band, and she must needs take it into her bead- ' , "Pretty young women are dangerous in a house "interposed Mr Gimblett, jocosely. Bat from the manner in which this com dimentarv speech was received, the ex- Sv^udged that he had better not hmXed it. Martha Chale paused and fixed her dark eyes upon him with an ex ' OTBssion oi contemptuous astonishment. Cnee fahh life Mr Gimblett felt discon certed, and became suddenly conscious of the fact that his hair was grey. _ _ "I boxed his ears once for trying to bar Hie passage on the staircase, I know that, <jld Martla, impressively. " Missis hadn t B call to be jealous of me. •Mr Gimblett did not trust himself to comment upon this remark, and his visitor Pr"l suppose Mrs Mortimer set the police on to me. Any way, I'm watched night and day, and I've had enough of it. "Idon'tsee what I can do for you," said Mr Gimblett. „ ~ ~ « You haven't heard yet," said the young Votmin, catching him up quickly. Wait tilll tell you." .... " I beg your pardon," said Mr Gimblett, mildly. , . T "I don't wish anybody any harm, but 1 Want to protect myself. That is the | reason I come to you instead of communica ting what I know to the police." "'. ■■ "You said you didn'* Iknow anything 'about the robbery," stiid m Ownblott, ■ qVI meant, of course, that I bad nothing to do with it myself. But I know who did it," lejslned Martha, sharply. ' "Oh 1 I see. Pardon me." "'■ Mollified by Mr Gimblett's hasty apology, the young women proceeded to reveal what She knew in he* terse, matter-of-fact ' langoage, which her companion listened to ■with increasing respect. "I daresay you are right,' said Mr Gimblott, when tho had concluded her re cital. "But it sounds strange. Wftot sort of a man is Mr Mortimer ?" "He is younger than his wife. Marriod her for money, and gets precious littlo ot it," was the significant answer.. "If you are right—of course, you aro not absolutely sure," said Mr Gimblett, ; quite humbly—"l have no doubt I can manage matters so that you won't be an noyed any longer." , . ~ "That is aS I want. Mind you don t cany the matter any further, said Martha, rising from ter chair. "If you ww't take any money iumw.' she added, "I won't press it on you, because J daresay ; yoa will make him pay your expenses, 'If Mr Gimblett had required *ny further proof of his visitor's shrewdness, !j \lhe last remark would have furnished it. As he rose to open the door fat her he was seized with a sort of sudden ntsiwusness which he had never beforo experienced. I Be took her hand in his with the deliberate Mention of giving it a fatheriy squeeze in-I dieative of admiration, but upoa meeting ffji ga«e he abandoned his subtle desfgn, '.^Mle a faint tinge of colour came to his fflgji It was not until he bud been alone .^orne&rfy five minutes that he .eoninletely ; tecovored his equanimity, arid tta J.\e telt «naccountablv ashamed of himself. _ However, "his self-esteem survived the shock, and half-aa-hour later he sallied forthwith his usual culm and confident air •Bd manner, to make a few inquiries on his own account about Martha Chale and her story. The latter, as far as regarded the robbery, he found perfectly correct, n<*r, ma . there seem any reason to doubt that the girl was perfectly innocent of the affair. The polico were watching heir, it is true, but this was chiefly owing to the instruc tions of Mrs-Mortimer, and not because they had any grounds for asjspecting hor. As * matter of fact, the jswal* h»d been taken in a manner which left absolutely no the to the perpetrators of the theft. For hie personal satisfaction. Mr Gimblett as certained that Martha Chale bore an ex cellent character, and when .out of a situa tion lived with her mother, a lespectable woman, who had brought up a large family by her own exertions. , Fortified by these details,?Mr Gimblett resolved to have an interview with Mi ' Mortimer without delay, for his suddei , interest in Martha Chalo prompted him tc lose no time in earning her gratitude. H< therefore took an earl-v opportunity to paj . Mr Mortimer a visit at his club, thinking he-was more likely to be able to see hin 'alone there tiiau at feis own house.. M Mortimer lookedagood deal surprised »poi the detective's being ushered into *)h itrangers' room at Blenheim. He Beefiiva -flim^ however, civilly enough.

" Your card informs me that you are a detective officer," said Mr Mortimer, who was a florid, overdressed, rather handsome man of forty, with a shifty glance and a weak chin.*

"An wi-detective, sir, to bo precise. I thought," added Mr Gimblett, lowering his voice to a confidential whisper, " you would sooner I called upon you here than at your own house."

"It all depends on what you have come about," said Mr Mortimer, with an uneasy laugh.

" It's in connection with the alleged robbery of jewels at your house," said Mr Gimblett, with startling abruptness, look ing him straight in the face. Mr Mortimor dropped his eyes to tho carpet boforo tho detective's gaze, either from suddon nervousness or from constitu tional inability to meet a direct glance. Ho put his hands in lih trousers pockets, and looking at tho toed of his boots, merely nodded.

"Tho fact is there is a young person who used to bo in your sorvico who seems to bo unjustly suspected by tho polico—or by somobody," .said Mr Gimblett, in his most incisive tonos. "Sho is being watched and inconvenienced, though sho isn't the guilty party." " Yon 'mean the girl Martha—Martha Cluile, I suppose," hastily added Mr Mortimor. " Woll, I don't suspect her. My wifo sent hor away. I think it was devilish hard lines !"

"So it is. In fact, it's persecution, and must bo put a stop to." "It isn't my fault," said Mr Mortimer, sulkily. " I can't do anything in tho mattor."

" You will havo to, sir, or olso '

"Orelso what, sir? What tho douco do you moan ?" criod Mr Mortimor, blazing

up. "Well, sir, Miss Chalo don't bear you any malice, but sho does happen to rocolloct your starting off on a journey with a small valise on the ovoning of tho 7th of July," said Mr Gimblett, significantly. '' It might bo desirable to investigate that littlo trip. You were supposed to have gone to Birmingham on business, but " Tho ox-detective's remarks wore inter rupted by Mr Mortimer suddenly turning round and making a tremendous rattling in tho empty grate with the poker, apparently oblivious of the fact that thoro was no fire. But ore ho effected this transparent manceuvro, Mr Gimblett had remarked the guilty glow which had suffused his brow. "It wouldn't do, of course, for Mrs Mortimer to suspect," resumed Mr Gimblett, quietly, as soon as ho could make himself heard again. "No, no. Come, out with it. Let us have no beating about the bush. What is it you want?" inquired Mr Mortimer, dropping the poker, and fidgeting about the mantelshelf. " Only a letter to the police-inspector, that I can deliver," said Mr Gimblett, readily. " Nothing more than that." Mr Mortimer hurriedly seated himself at the nearest table, and took up a pen. " What shall I say?" he inquired. " Only that you have reason to know that Martha Chalo is innocent of tho robbery, and request that the police will cease to annoy her," said Mr Gimblett, glibly. " Reason to believe— not know," said Mr Mortimer, commencing to writo. "Know," repeated Mr Gimblett, em phatically. " D n it, then, havo it your own way," exclaimed Mr Mortimer, as ho rapidly dashed off the note. "What shall I say, though, to the police, if tHSy ask me what I mean ?" ho added, looking up. "They won't, sir. I'll manage that," said Mr Gimblett. "And my wife needn't know anything about this, I suppose ?" he continued. " Which, sir? Oh ! you mean the note to tho police. No, sir; certainly not," said Mr Gimblett. " Very well. There you are then," said Mr Mortimer, flinging the sheet of paper across the table. " It's rather a delicate job, sir ; may re quire a little oiling," said Mr Gimblett, coughing behind his hand. "How much?" demanded Mr Mortimer, after an uneasy pause. " Well, perhaps—perhaps a tenner." Mr Mortimor's only answer was to hand MrGimblett a bank-noterathor tremulously, and with this the interview ended. Mr Gimblett bowed politely and took up his hat, while Mr Mortimor opened the door to bim, looking particularly sheepish and crestfallen. Mr Gimblett chuckled to himself when he *ot outside, and proceeded in the direction Df Scotland Yard, having first securely stowed away tho ten-pound note. Whether the !' oiling " process oxtonded beyond Mr Gimblett himsolf is by no means clear. Suffice it to say that five minutes' chat with the inspector having charge of Mr Mortimer's case, thoproduction of theletter, and a few nudges and winks exchanged over a friendly glass, seemed all that was necessary to show how the land lay. From that day forward Martha Chalo ceased to-be a suspected person, even as a matter of form, and the mystery of the robbery was con sidered to be solved in a manner not al together uncommon. Mr Gimblett was gallant enough to pay Martha Chalo a visit at her mother's humble abode to report what he had done, and received the young woman's thanks, which were tendered without the least enthusiasm, rather to his disappointment. The ex ietectivo evinced an inclination to follow jp the acquaintance thus auspiciously com menced, and ventured to call a second time when he happened to be passing soon after wards. But on the latter occasion Martha's manner was so abrupt and inhospitable that le did not oare to repeat the experiment, ihoughhewas surprised how very mildly 10 resented her treatment of him. Shortly after this, MrGimblett had to go )ver to' Paris on business. "Missing oersons traced " was one of the announce nents upon his professional prospectus, and ibis branch afforded him plenty of employ ment. The supposed elopement of a publican's wife with a sprightly grocers issistant was the cause of his visit to the French capital on this occasion, and in 'ourse of his inquiries in connection with ihis thrilling case, he picked up a little piece flf information which recalled Martha 3hale yiyidijr to his recollection. Perhaps, if the trutfc V«» J. »<wn. her image suggested tsolf to his imagination rather frequently; :or there is no denying that; for the first ;ime in his life Mr Gimblett found the raieties of Paris decidedly depressing, and constantly detected fancied resemblances aetween casual passerby and 9 certain iroung woman who had impressttl him so much with her cleverness. But the trifling liscovery he made in Paris suggested an un comfortable suspicion as to whether Martha Shale's cleverness had not been rather too much for him. In other words, he began io have a disquieting idea that the young woman had made a catepijwof him ; and, what worse, he learnt to douW; whether she'was really as innocent of the disWpear inceof Mfs Mortimer's jewels as she had; pretended. Ppon Ms petiurn tp JEngJand; tir Gimblett made some inquiries which resulted in his paying Misg Mn^ia another risitin a frame of mind which wavered fee- , tween furious indignation and latter <US- j appointment. His perturbation «rasm-1 creased by a strange longing that he might after all have wronged her, and this ebawt<wle sentiment came uppermost when he met her fa« to face "Miss ChaW-he «{&• as soon as he got an opportunity of speaking to her alone, » you remember the story yo\f .tald^eftfeout MrMprtimer?" " Yes 5 I 4p, was her calm reply. " You declarer yau had seen in the valise he took away with him ihe jewels that were supposed to .be stolon," proceed M* Gimblett. "I know I did; but it wasn t true, ■ re turned Martha, .returning Mr Gimblett's sca>.o almost defiantly. " I know it wasn't true," retorted the ex detectiv.e, unabje to conceal his resentment. " I have discoyered the mystery about Jjlr Mortimer's littlo trip. I hpve had an inter view with the lady." "You seem to have taken a good .deal ot unnecessary trouble," said Martha, quite t**tly. "I c°uld liave told y°u aU about his going* on." "Well you made a fool of me any how'" exclaimed the inspector, more crest fallen than angry. "You might have gone to Mr M. yourself; hut neither you no He would ba,ys known how to mWge **« PP"Thlt is why I -ca«tf to you>" saic Masfcha with a nod. . »Yes< J understand that. It was .wj clever of you, Miss. May I inquire youj objett?" denianW Mr Gimblett, .witl ■flSS"*' that I,^ aid-Mm *o escape." said Martha, for * first time looking #*« I» H|I | « Him-! Wiho?" inctyW W* Gimblet Sh?' TThe party l*»t did it. I was 'keepin, cwp^th-him, andf wasfool enou| to-to believe;-™ him. ffa house once .or twice when I ■**■**»• ** f don't know how bp managed (to Wkej™ Moss. li^wi^hwWf* [ hadW *o ««* »W> *»<* *» *«* «* hiding—being new »t it, 1 suppose i

" I should think so," fiercely ejaculated Mr Gimblott.

" He swore he wouldn't stir without, me, and I began to fear he would do something desperate I was afraid to go near him while the polico wcro about,' so I came to you."

"I see. And what became of him ?" in quired Mr Gimblett, his admiration for Martha's striking abilities for his own line of business overcoming even his resent ment and jealousy.

" I packed him off," said Martha, laconi cally, "to America."

" Are you to follow ?" asked Mr Gimblett, with a sudden thumping at his heart. '' Not I. The man is a fool and a coward, I couldn't marry oither one or the othor." said Martha, in her matter of-fact way. " Besides, I'm honost."

"I know you woro. I could havo sworn it!" exclaimed Mr Gimblett, in a tone which seemed to disconcert oven tho im perturbable Martha. "13ut, I say," ho added, abruptly, " you novor lot a cur liko that got away with so much swag." " No ; ho'll bo disappointed when ho ar rives ovor tho water, lie thinks ho has it all, but it is upstairs," said Martha, with a short laugh.

" Bravo!" cried -Mr Gimblett, slapping his knee enthusiastically.

"I was going to ask you to contrive somohow to tako tho things back to the Mortimers," said Martha. "I don't liko keeping 'om in the house any longer." "Quito right. Leavo everything to mo. Do you know, Miss Martha," said Mr Gimblott, bocoming suddenly confidential, "that there's a reward offered which would do nicoly to furnish a cottngo tor a newly married couple." "Thonit will como in convenient," said Martha, quietly. "Itwill, Martha, if you will only con sent," criod Mr Gimblott, suddenly seizing hor hand. " I'm oldor than you, but wo'ro suited for ono another in ovory way. Wo should run well in doublo harness, my doar, both in businoss and domostic lifo." " You was saying I'vo inndo a fool of you once," remarked Miss Martha, neither elated nor indignant, but simply matter-of fact ; " do you want me to do it again ?"

Mr Gimblett's only answer was to im print a kiss on the substantial hand he held between his own. For a moment Martha Chale's dark eyes flashed furiously, and sho looked inclined to box his ears. But she finally didn't.

A COLORADO GIRL'S NERVE.

Sho Koops Two Bobbers at Bay Until

Assistance Comes.

Reed's ranch did not differ materially from hundreds of others in Colorado. The same struggling, one-storied structure, perfectly innocent of paint, with outbuildings looking as if they were ready to tumble down, as in fact they would have done were they not propped up at different sides by rails and old pieces of board, some rough slabs nailed together with'cross-pieoes of the same mate rial, and suspended by ono hinge, formed the door of tho larger of tho structures. The family oonsisted, at tho time of the story, of Joe Reed, the proprietor, his wife and two children. Ella, the oldest, was a rather pretty girl of IS, who for sovoral years had relieved the tired mother of much of the burdens of housework, attendod to tho duties of tho dairy, and was a good horse woman withal, often accompanying her father in rough rides of miles when looking for stray cattlo. Once a week Mr Reed was in tho habit of coming to Denver to dispose of dairy products and purchase such articles of food as could not be raised on tho ranch. Willie frequently accompanied him, and tho two women thought nothing of being left alone in the house until long into the night, as the distance to tho city made the drive a long one. It was on ono of these evenings in tho early fall, just as they had completed their supper and the mother was arranging tho table for the hungry father and son, who wore not expoctod for several hours, tho younger woman had occasion to go to tho barn, tho back of which was immediately on the road, to see a sick calf that sho was administering to. Suddenly she heard the sounds of tho voices of some men evidently in tho road in the vicinity of the barn. Listening intently and searcoly daring to breathe, she heard words that almost froze her with terror.

" Tho old man Keeps his moneybox in tho drawer cf tho old bureau, but tho old woman carries tho key." " How can we get at it ?" asked another

voice. " We can gag and blind both women, and if they make any noise wo can knock them in the head."

For a moment tho terrified listener was fairly paralysed with fear; then, as if sud denly inspired with a superhuman courage, the sound of footsteps and voices becoming fainter, sho started up, and running quickly around to the back of the houso and crawling through an open window, went to a closet and took from it two large revolvers which were always b-ipt loaded for emergencies, concealing them in the folds of her dress. Hastily rejoining her mother in the larger room, she was just in time to see two burly looking ruffians enter by the door as the mother looked up with a seared, white face. The taller of tho two mon then demanded in rough tones that somo supper should be set before them, "and let it come quick, too," he added in a menacing tone. Full of her purpose, the bravo girl quickly placed the food on tho table, knowing that the scoundrels would satisfy their hunger before putting their purpose of robbery and possibly murder into execution. She then sat down in front of them, watching them with the eyes of a hawk without especially attracting their attention. Soon she saw that their meal was about completed, and, making a ruBO as if reaching for a dish, she suddenly thrust the muzzles of the pistols in their faces, threatening them with instant death if thoy moved. In vain their every effort to get out of their unpleasant predicament, their slightest movement was followed by an ominous click. Expostulations and protestations were in vain, tho heroic girl stood there with eyes flashing and determination in every lineament for what to her seemed ages. The poor mother, as soon as she comprehended tho situation, overcome by her great terror, had fainted, and was lying prone on the floor. At last the wolcome sound of waggon wheels was heard coming toward the house, but not for a moment did thegirl relax her vigilance until the surprised father and brothor had entered tho bo»se in cpmpany with an uncle who had arrived in Denver that day from their old Eastern homo in Ponnsylrania, and by the merest accident met Mr Kood on Sixteenth-street, in Donver. As soon as they thoroughly comprehended tho situa tion thoy compelled the ruffians with revolvers at their heads to submit to being bound with ropes, and as soon as daylight came they were taken to tho country seat and placed in gaol. Tho brave heroine, as soon as relieved from her terrible guard duty and the horrible strain on her nerves was taken off wont into a succes sion of hysterical spasms', ajid it was for weeks'that her reason, if not fierjife, iyas despaired'of. She eyejntually recovered, 'however, jjhd afterward parried a wealthy Denver gentleman, anjd is noy one of the leading society ladles of tjm fiugen ,Crtv. The two men were recognised qld offenders—in fact, they were fugitives from justice from a distant county, and afterward served a long time in the penitentiary in 'Oa,r. o# pity.

Prince Albert's Regimen for Clubs.

Sandwith called "by command" at Buck ingham Palace, arid had an interview with Prince Albert. "The Prince stood and asked me numerous questions, and f.rom tiipe to time leaned or half seated himself upsn a tal>le- He was very minute in his inquiry about the roads and other mili tary details concerning Armenia. I des.i c'rijpe all I can, and especially dp I give him an account of-the ,reign of terror in Kars, when spies ware geint int° -the cafe, and when, on hearing anyone propose to give up the city, they denounced tho P.ijjpnt, who was forthwith flogged. On hearing this the Prince said, ' Ah, I wish we could have thaidgne in the London clubs !' At that time the if nana jyas very unpopular, aud I ;was astonished at his imprudence in making this yary un-Engliab resaarjfc, I fopjn c#r,e not to' repeat it. Had I done fie, tliere wo»i& kaVft been a great row- While I was -thus engaged in fiimyersation with the Prince a pair of folding-dpprs tl^rpwrf I open, #nd a lacquey pries,' ' The Queen V i The Prince, wfcp )ygs half sitting on a tehle, spii-ang up and stopd %t attention Her Majesty, wh'ona I had qeeh pg £ pretty j yojacggirigorngto be crowned, came for ward ahd i)dv&4 three times to my, I three hpws. She feegap to flujegtion me : aljout &•»> #n<* * Wswer^d freely a»d ; readfly, #er y.oice yw pteasimt, fcer I manner? pjkpeatye, jand-fcr About tfcrae- I quarteja.of apbpur we |(ftus eppyersed." 1 zJ> gjuwpjM'ey SftwJwjtb, a Memoir."

GENERAL GORDON.

If Cnrlyle were alivo, and were lecturing onco more on heroes, under what head might

lie be expected to deal with General Gordon ? "The Hero as Divino" might bo not al together inappropriate, seeing that Gordon is a religious mystic, and has but recently published'a volume of somewhat puzzling "Reflections in Palestine." It may be doubted, however, whether to a mind like Cai-lyle's, existing circumstances would not sugg'ost that "The Hero as Political Shuttle cock " would be tho proper title of a locturo which was to bo mainly occupied with tho gallant defender of Khartoum.- A kcon oyed, slightly-built man, rathor undor the middlo hoight, and 11 little moro than fifty years of ago—an oxcitablo, quick, nervous, plain-spoaldng person, with vory littlo ro poct for dignities, and supurb confidence in himself—such is the English Gonoral who in tho boginning of tho yoar was despntchod to Khartoum. Ho had been living at Jeru salem, studying tho Holy Sopuleliro, and fixing tho site of tho Crucifixion. JIo was about to procood to tho Congo, at tho in stance of a small foreign potentate. Tho Government sends for him, and tolls him to proceed to Khartoum. Shortly afterwards a travollor moots him Hying across tho desert on a camel, far in advance of those who should have boon tho companions of his clangorous rido. Tho wholo of England watehod with breathless interest his dis appearance into tho desert; tho ontirc English people greotcd with acclaim the nows of his sale entry into Khartoum. Certainly this was a thing without parallel, and not likely to bo repeated, in history. Tho Government had placed its fortunes in tho hands of one man, and, without soldiors, without anything to compel submission, with nothing but personal ohnractor as a dofonce against troachory, had sent that mau into a disturbod city in tho centre of East Africa, to negotiate with savago hordos, and to rescue cowardice from the rngo of fanntblsm. What man ovor inspired greater confidence in himself than this ? General Gordon was probably thrust into his unique position less on account of his achievements than of his character. It is a character full of magnificent contradictions and daring e'eoentricitios. He has at timos a most scrupulous regard for human life; yet in China he followed Li Hung Chang about with a revolvor, firmly rosolvod to slay him with his own hand. Ho is ro markablo for a certain independent humility and carelossness of personal consideration ; but when King John of Abyssinia placed a chair for him at tho foot of the throne, he shifted the chair to tho Royal platform, and sat down bosido tho King.. At home in England ho drosses with extromeplainnoss ; at Khartoum he made a moro than Oriental display of purple and fino linen. Contemn ing self, ho boeoraos angry at small alights; frequently expressing disgust with the positions ho has: consented to fill, ho is | seldom prepared to relinquish thorn. In China ho told his mon that ho should hand over his forco to General Brown, but ho continued to command it until tho Taiping rebellion was crushed. Wlion he was formorly Governor-General of tho Soudan ho wrote that he asked God for threo things. The first of theso was, "Not to bo dis turbed if tho Khodivo send mo away to morrow," and the socond was, "Not to bo disturbod if he koeps mo." His disgust with everything is nlwnys a littlo weaker than his resolution to see the end of it. Often ruthless when circumstances soom to demand ruthlcssness, General Gordon has a nature singularly compassionate and tender. To an officer who had botrnyed his plans he said: "I will forgivo you if you will load tho next forlorn-hope j" and that officer diod in his arms. Ho sent a gold medal, presented to him by tho Em peror of China, to'roliovo the sufferers by Cotton Famine. During tho quiet interval of his life at Gravosond ho taught tho boys in n ragged school, and laboured earnestly among tho poor. His map of tho world was dotted ovor with pins, this boing tho method of following tho courso of boys whom he had rescued from tho gutter, clothed, educated, and sent off to sea. His letters from tho Soudan scarcely con tained moro about his own labours and fatigues than aboutstarvingwomen whomhe had fed and children whom ho had rescued from death by hunger. Beforo ko was sent to Khartoum it seems to havo been a matter of discussion with him whether it wore best to proceed to the Congo or see what could bo done for " Outcast Lon don." General Gordon has bcon compared to Cromwell. Thero is, however, littlo real similarity of nature. Whero tho two characters appoar to join is in an austere Puritanism, a certain regardlessnoss of human life where great objects aro to bo gained, and an apparently fatalistic in sensibility to danger. Gordon, in whom the spirit of the warrior frequently crushed down tho caution of tho genocal, marched at the head of hw mon, yet carried no moro dangerous weapon than a slender cane. When thero was a mutiny among his Chinese soldiers Ko seized tho chief offender with his own hands and led him out to be shot. Whore punishment was to bo in flicted his will was never enfeoblod by sentimental considerations of mercy. It hns beon said of him that " he did not boar the sword of the Lord in vain." He impressed tho Asiatic and the Ethiopian mind by the celerity with which he hung oppressors and thieves ; he secured the faithfulness of his followers scarcely less through the relent lossness of his punishmont than by his evident devotion to their interests. There is a sort of probability in the story that is told of his manner of proceeding at Khar toum. It is said that he roads every morning in the Bible. If he should chance to turn to the New Testament, he spends tho remainder of the day in charity and good works ; if his reading falls among " Chronicles " or " Kings," he issues forth to harry and to slay. It is only to the Old Testament heroes that ho can fitly be compared," unless one makes an exception of those stern and resolute Covenantors who were dragooned by Clavorhouse on the Scottish hill-sides. With the Covenanters nnd the Old Testament heroes ho shares the peculiarity of always.feeling himself to be in the right. "Find me," ho says, "the man— and I will take him as my help—who utterly despises money, _ name, glory, honour; one who never wishes to See his home again ; ono who looks to God ns the Bourso of good and controller of evil; one who has a lienlthy body and onorgetic spirit, and ono who looks on doath as a relief from misery; and if you cannot find him, thon \eaxfi mo alono." "The bost servant I ovor had," ho says, "is mysolf;. ho always does what I liko. His mind is of the He braic, not, as Heine would havo said, of tho Hellenic casto j but ho has acted throughout life in the spirit of the Grook proverb : — " The reward is in the race we run, not in the prize." He thinks less of honours, less of emoluments, less of lifo itself, than of duty; but then it is not his duty, as others see it, but his duty as ho soes it himself. He is impatient of official control; he re quires a free hand. Ho is a man to whom carte blanche should be given when no evil consequences can follow; Only, however, at such times, Ife is not content to regard himself (is only- one part of the game. He ynifl n,pt'cQnßJder tljo yvhole problem, but onfy what seenfs the |mmedjatj3 duty. The complications.whipty foifow upon h{s Imbit of going beyond ffis advices sepm to hinj the result of the blundering of qtheps, np't of Jjis own reluctance to follow out a pre-arranged plan. He trusts much to a sort of inspira tion ; and his inspirations are not always the same. To-day he would recognise the Madhi; to-morrow he would place a king dom into the hands of his old enemy Zebohr. So,' though it was not intended that he should' stay at Khartoum, and though ho [ might long since have made good his retreat, it is necessary to fetch him home at a cost of millions of money, and, possibly, of 1 hundreds flf lij'es.

'With all his peculiarities, General Gor don is a true hero still. His defence of Khartoum has been more remarkable than General William's defence of liars. How ever much he may have mistaken ' the work he had to doj the work which he has actually done will make a great chap ter in the world's history! "It is cer tain that as yet he does not consider it as Wjaply' pijmplete. General Wolselpy is taking an ejpie,dftj|o^ up tl}p Nile to bring him home again, •" Ollristjan heroes,l? saye the Marquis of Hartiiigtoi),"■'! hq,ve some times tempers liko othor men,"" Will he come?— Sancho, "Weekly Echo."

A GHOST IN THE DAYS OF '15.

The harvest of rebellion had been reaped on the field and on tho gallows.

The harvests of Cheshire had been garnered ; gooso feasted amid the stubble; tho aftermath was mown and stacked; tho potatoes dug on Bowdon Downs ; the hazel nuts in Wood Lane tempted the villago boys ; beech and oak were dropping mast and acorns within the precincts of the Oak lands ; leaves—yollow, red, brown—hung limp upon tho trees, or, crisp and soar, littered tho pathways, and driving beforo tho wind, tapped at the windows of tho house whoso master, sitting alone by bin liroside, had a somothing tapping at his breast, just as tho loaves tapped on tho panes—and conscience was the driving wind. Walking moodily through hie own meadow that afternoon, ho had lookod ovor tho hodgo, whero it skirted Wood Lane, to rebuko somo children who wore roughly tearing down tho bramblos to gather ripo blackberrios. Ho knew them for tho younger children of Barnos, tho weaver; but in their midst stood a white-headed rag-god urchin somo two years old, who lookod^tip at him with largo blue eyes, and a mouth all stained with the fruit. That faco was haunting him as ho sat by the tiro at ovoiitido, with his book of philosophy unread—sat until tho moon roso, and tho bats camo out and flapped against tho casement louder than the loaves. Why did it haunt him so ? " Such a child might havo boon Sybilla's had she borne ono?—and thoy called it Tom," whispered conscience. " Gerard has not returned. I havo neither frlond nor child by my hearth. Might I not havo had child and grandchild both, had I been moro forgiving ?" And so conscience tapped, as there he sat, tho shadows deopening around him, the curtain undrawn, no candle .1 lit. In tho bright kitchen, Ursula sat in state in hor blue camlet gown aud farthingale, directing the maids, who woro busy sorting damsons for wine, picking stray leaves from oldorborries, and preparing the ovoning moal. Josh, with a dog at his foot, and a red handkerchiof ovor his head, sat dozing by tho lire. Candles in tall mahogany silver-mounted candlesticks stood unlignted on a waiter, with snuffere and tray by their sido. "Strnngo, m»Bter hns not rung for his candlos." said one. " Hush !" oxclaimed another in a fright ened whispor, " There it is again ! Dent you hoar it ?" Hoar it I Tho dog heard it, and Josh heard it and wakened up; nnd Ursula heard it, and clasping hor hands, uttered a pious ejaculation in hor fear. " God savo us all I there it is again ; Miss Sybilla's wheel going hard and fast, and hor door locked, and hor far away." " Ay, it be Miss Sybilla's wheel, sure enoof," put in Josh. " What be oop ?" "An' this bo th' third toimo won hearod it," cried a girl. "Summat's happened to th' young missus, an' yon's her ghoast.l" said Josh in an oracular whisper. Tho musical hum of the wheol was cer tainly cloar and distinct as a song. Siloneo fell on tho white-faced listeners. " I wonder if master hoars it ?" asked ono, below hor breath. " Master, ho seems to hoar nowt, nowa days," muttered tho old man. A bell rang. " There's master ringing for his candles," criod Ursula. But no ono stirred. And still was heard tho monotonous hum-m-m-m. Agnin rang the library bell. In fear threo maids together threadod tho passagos with tho lighted candles. Nothing was to bo hoard at tho library door, and no ono dared speak of Sybilla's spinning-wheel to their master. Tho servants were afraid to go about tho house alone, or pass tho door of the deserted room on thoir way to bod, for tho drono of tho wheol did not cease. And it drovo sleep from their pillows. Mr Vcnablos used the other stairs, and heard nothing moro than what ho took for tho sighing of the wind. Night by night tho sound was heard; only on the Sabbaths was it silent. Rumour wont abroad that tho house was haunted. Tho timid maids at length re fused to pass tho doors of Sybilla's rooms on their way to bed, anil Ursula was no moro courageous. Tliey preferred sleeping as best thoy could on tables and settles in tho kitchen ; Ursula took possession of a gucst-chnmbor near her master's; Josh resumed his abandoned quarters abovo tho stables. Only Mr .Vennbles, occupied with his own thoughts, utalked about in unalarmed ignorance; yet even ho was conscious of a mysterious something in the air of his housohold and of the villago ; and ho bogan to spoculato why Gerard did not return. Now and again ho encountered the same little fellow in tho lanes with others, poorly clad, but no longer in rags; and once or twice he stooped and stroked tho child's white head, and gave him a silver groat. But ho only wont back to his solitary hearth more moody and silont. And still from twilight until dawn tho wheol was hoard to hum.m-m ; and whispers went abroad of a mysterious figure like Miss Sybilla (always Miss Sybilla) seen in the dim light to flit under the dark shadows of yews and evergreons and over the bridge, and to carry a bundle with her, as sho must havo done when she fled. Thero was only ono opinion, that she was dead, and her unquiet spirit could not rest —unforgiven. With the coming of Docombor camo Squire Gerard, In every line of his melancholy faco was seen disappointment. Ho Bat down in his old place, opposite to Mr Vonables, wearily. Ho thought he saw a look of expectation in the old man's face, and he noted that his hair had become white as snow. " I have no tidings. No one bearing the name of oither Furnival or Venables had been heard of in Snow Hill. I tried South ward, whither tho prisoners had been re moved, thinking she might have followed her unfortunate husband; bat though I heard of a poor, torn-down wretch, who had shrieked out' Hugh' as the prisoners were driven on board tho transport, I could find no traco of her, high or low ; and I foar wo never shall. God help hor I" With his head bont low, his hands clasped between his knees, Mr Vonables had listened in siloneo. But Gerard saw his shoulders heave, and his wholo frame con vulse with strong emotion. Gorard mado no stay. As Josh went with him to opon and socuro tho outer gate, ho told in awo-strickon tonos how tho houso was haunted, and tho servants afraid to stay. "Master hoerd the wheel himsel' last week ; but ho swore some on us weer playin' him a trick, and only last night as was ho nailed up th' door as shuts off them rooms, and with his own hands, while th' varry wheel wer buzzing its loudest. Ho said he'd silence tho spinnor; no tricks should be played in his house. But lor,' Squire, th' wheel went on just th' same." Gerard rede away thoughtfully. Ho was not without * tinge of the superstition of the time ; and what Ijo hqd heard but con. firnjed his fears that if is dea^y-J oyed Sybilla lyas np more. Tljd morning, crisp and kpen, saw him once more at the Oaklands. Ho found tho owner in the grounds giving orders for the filling up of a gap in the hedge that separated the meadow from Wood Lano, and looking haggard,, though compose^- They strolled together by the water-side, talking of various matters; but no sooner were they out of earshot than Gerard ad i verted to the rumou* he hadheqrd. "A dastardly trick, sir," cried the old gentleman, through the ashen pallor of his ■ lips, "It was a sorry time and a sorry jesi ■to plqy on a childless man.' But I've 1 silenced tho wheel; there was no spinning last night." > "But, sir—" 1 What further Gerard would have said was cut short. A little blue eyed child, coming througl 1 tho gap in tho hedge, ran across the meadow f to meet thpm, followed at a distance bj ; Barnes, the'weaver. 3 '! 00 done wi' t{iy m^mrtiy, granc] : dad i' Ma^my'i '& *U W; to 'pjii i "Whiy 3 06 dqne wi- mammy ?" almost shrieked tin little follow between his sobs. Gerard gazed at the child, and then a Mr Venables', who; seemed struck dumb oj. ; a statue. , "J want my mammy I began $c p.mi( c again. - !' Ifrs Fnrniyal, Master," explain?! , Barnes apologetically, as he cajpe v;p, " sb t cam' opp here to spin i 1 th' nqight-tqime 1 a keep hejisen an'- th' little phqp ; an' w J hnnna sect) her sin—" k A hoarse cry burst from the old imw g Flfnging hjs anr.s wjldly in the air, h rushed oyer the bridge, and through th , ppurt-yipdi tPwards t^P house, But Genvr a was before him. armed with it gardener piok he had caught up by the w»y,

At the very back of the splintered door thoy found Sybilla prostrate with hunger, cold, exhaustion, and despair. » For the first time Gerard's arms enfolded hor, and ho bore hor swiftly to the Warmth and lifo below, insensible, but living. Kisses from littlo lips did almost as much as Ursula's cordials to restore her. Sho oponed her oyoa to soe Tom on her father's knee; to feel her hand within that father's clasp ; to hear his fervent "Thank God ! she revives ! I have not killed my darling !" And, as in a dream, a soothing sense of home, forgiveness, peace, stole into her soul, though her eyelids drooped again. —"Sybilla and other Stories." By Mrs G. Linna-us Banks.

Scenes in Pompeii.

Think of it. indocd I Who can see Pompeii and say truly what ho thinks of it? And who, with any sense in him, can entertain reflection on a matter such as this amid tho hubbub of a dinnor-party? I wonder how Childe Harold, after rolling forth his rhymes upon "tho Niobo of nations," con trived to answer tho young ladios who asked what ho thought of Italy and Rome. I fancy one of my first thoughts, after pass ing through tho gateway, was that tho musoum was bofittingly well placed. Being just within the ontrance to the city, it forms-a sort of proludo to tho march one has to make. Tho Bight of thoso black bodies, of Nature's own embalming, lying there as thoy lay living, and alivo wcro slowly buried eighteen centuries ago, may sottlio mind a-thinking ere yet a step is set upon the silent streets. Here they lie, just as thoy diod, uncoflined, and un shroudod, choked suddenly to doath. This seems clear from thoir position ; for the faces are turned downward, and tho arms are folded under them, as though to keep a little breathing-space, while the stifling showor of ashes was fast suflocating all who camo within its fatal roach. Thore aro here seen but two exceptions; a woman who was found with upturned faco, and a dog that was discovered lying on its side with opon gaping jaws, and limbs distorted and convulsed. If a man have any heart more human than the one which is contained within a cabbage, ho may hardly see un moved such mournful sights as theso. Nor can one fail to feel deep interest as one glances at the articles of ancient use or ornament discovered near the bodies which havo lately been unearthed. Pots and pars, hammers and nails, needles and pins, scissors and knives, pincers and saws, brushes and combs, bracelets and rings-here are all the usual goods and chattels of a housohold, as profuse in their variety as in any common, modern auction catalogue of sale. Hero are instruments of surgery, which show that old practitioners wore skilled in their profession ; and implements of cookery, of highly appalling structure and most artistic shape. I noticed specially a sieve, or perforated copper vessel, doubtless used for making forcemeat and other dainty dishes, and I observed that all the holes were drilled to form a strictly symmetrical design. In another tho pattern of a peacock was'displayed, possibly to gratify tho taste of some classical lesthete. Indeed, the whole Pompeian household seemed per vaded by high art, from the frescoes in tho bedrooms to tho crockery in the kitchens and tho statues in tho hall. Nor was art adapted only to tho uses of the rich. Even thebutchor used a steelyard with a hand some head of bronze to servo by way of weight, and tho vinter poured his wine into a drinking cup adorned with a bas-relief of Bacchus. Verily, thero is nothing new undor the sun. Thobread baked yesterday at Naples is of precisely the same shape as tho loaves found at Pompeii, which were put into tho oven nearly 2,000 years ago. Iho coinage of that period differs littlo from our own, excopt that it surpasses ours in quality of workmanship. A gaming tablo wasfurnishod with a pair of dice.anda lady s toilotto tablo with a mirror and a rougo-pot. Small boys scribbled on tho walls, and played with balls, and knuckle-bones, and whipping-tops, and marbles in tho streets of oldPompoii, as they do in modorn Pans, Naples, London, or Berlin. Tho printing press had not then boen invented, it is true, and newspaperswerewantingforthepurpose of advertisement. Butolectorsworeappealed to vory much as thoy aro now, as is proved by many mural inscriptions in the noxt placo. By theso, thoy woro adjured to "Vote for Blobbius, the True Friend of the Peoplo," or to go and hear Bugginsius, tho famous platform orator, who was noted for his pluck in pitching into the patricians, as speakers may be nowadays who abuse the Houso of Lords. Excepting books and nowspapers, whose presence somo may fancy a not wholly unmixed blessing, thore aro traces at Pompeii of all sorts of London shop things, and ways and means of living. There oven are tho pass checks which were current at tho theatre, whero the people were as sembled at the time tf the eruption, and the figs and other fruit which wcro prepared for their refreshment upon that fatal afternoon. One other exception, however, must be made. Among the myriad of articles preserved in the museum, I vainly strained my eyes to see a classic corkscrew. But a moment s thought explained tho absence of this interesting instrument. Thero were no corks used when Horace, that delightful diner-out, beggod his host to let him taste that famous four-yoarold Falernian, the savour of which still sweetly lingered in his memory, whilo to keep the wintry cold out, a few more logs wore heaped upon the hospitable hearth.-[From "A Last Day of Pom peii;" in "All the Year Round" for October.]

Dyeing the Hair.

Tiik lady of Queen Elizaboth's time was an extremely complex affair, and artificial to the last degree -so the " Leisure Hour " says. Few people of fashion in thoso days possessed the moral courage of Benodick, who declared that his wife's " hair shall be of what colour it please God." Red, yollow and black dyes were in common use, the first, perhaps, in compliments to the Queen, whose natural hair, seldom seen, was reddish in hue. Sho herself possessed 80 wigs of various coleurs. .The demand for hair was so large that chil dren were often allured into corners and sheared ; even the sanctity of the grave was not respected, and the doad were robbed of their hair to adorn living heads. This fashion of dyeing the hair was by no means confined to women; mon commonly dyed thoir boards. Thus Bottom, whon about to personate that "most lovoly gentloman-like man," Pyramtts, asks, "What board wore I bost to play it in ?" and ho concludDs to do so in " Either your straw-coloured board, your orange tawny board, your purplo in grain beard, or your French crown colour beard, your per fect yollow." Ho does not inform us what shape he would soloot, but they were many and various. Some wore—

Cut and prunotl liko to a quick-sot hedge. Some were roundtd and more peaked. The calling of a person might often be ascer tained by tho cut of his beard. Military men and gallants wore it in spade, stiletto, or dagger form; judges, justices, and grave men woro theirs in "formal cut;" while a rough bushy beard was tolerably indicative of a country plown—or at least of a very common m»n. 1» the early part of Eliza beth's reign the members of Lincoln s Inn were restricted by Act of Parliament to bearfls of a fortnight's growth, but this ridiculous law wqs repeal^ tl^e fqllqwing year. '

A Horrible Story.

It was asserted subsequently to the execu tion of the notorious criminal. Campi, in Franco, that with the knowledge and permission of the School of Medicinp, the skin of the murderer had been placed in the hand of a tenner, and that when nropovly prepared it was to be used tor binding books and documents containing the scientific observations made at the post mortem examination of Campi's remains, The statement at the time was generally discredited, for, although the First Republic had its tannery of human skin, \yhich was kept well supplied by the executioner Sampson, it was not believed such practices would be permitted under thfi. Third Republic. A French paper, howevor, has recently rptuynod to the ghastly subject, and iflMntains that the announcement made and disbelieved was literally true, and that'the skin of the wretched m.^p. has been used as was alleged. T«e al.air is creating some excitement in Paris, and the Dean of the EaoviHy of Medicine is urged tfi investigate the matter, in order \a vssit with deserved punishment the parties guilty of an putvaga against humanity, and to obtain proof that'the statement 1% a malicious one. In the interests of science experiment? qt\ ®fi dead bodies of raalpftptei'ij are legitimate, but it cannp.t for onp moment be pretended tks any scientific pbjppt is sened to U« .ng s\ humaip s|un"qa c, QQYprtog- fpr-^oo^s P.r documents.

The Troubles of a Would-be Dramatist.

I am a very quiet, retiring gentleman, dabbling in literature. Short essays, love poems, and such liko articles emanate from my pen, without, however, making my name famous. Now, although I have stated myself to be retiring, yet at one timo I was very ambitious. I wrote a play in fifty-two acts, each to occupy a week in playing, so that a whole year would necessarily be occupied in producing it, and, what's more, I meant to perform it myself. I found the best way to get it talkod about was to attend regularly from twolvo till threo at a certain bar, contral to West End theatres, and there ear-wigging actors, discuss my tremendous effort, which was to bring mo both fortune and fame. I had a pretty fair stock of coin at tho time, but it was marvollous how it dwindled away at that bar. I was constantly standing treat to actors and othors. A fow, I might say threo, of the hahitucs of the bar (at least, thoy were all there when ever I put in an appearance) addressed mo by my surnamo—Noggles—and usually shook hands with me. Thoy all admired my description of the famous drama, said it would be sure to make a hit, and send rival managers mad, especially those of them that had not boen so fortunate as to secure it first; but up to tho present no one had mado a bid for it, or for my services, although I had once played in "Othello" at an amateur theatrical performance in aid of the Fiji cannibals, to whom several missionaries were sent out Hi consequence, and stayed there, entombMin the stomachs of that interesting race of beings. "Noggles, dear boy I" said one of my intimates, who was a regular walking directory about things theatrical, "why don't you get your drama licensed by the Lord Chamberlain ?—that will be the first stop towards success—managers will nibble at it then." Por this brillant idea I was mulcted in a five-pound note (only as a loan, of course), to be religiously returned at Doomsday, I suppose, for, from the hour of parting up to the present, the money has not been returned. I acted on his advice, and packing up the MS. and sketches of the scenery in a very roomy portmanteau, char tered a hansom, when Noggles and his fortunes were conveyed to the august Chamberlain's office. I fancied I saw a look of dismay on the reader's face when I kept diving into the portmanteau as if I | were dipping into a lucky bag, bringing up several acts at a dive, all neatly tied . with green silk cord. "la that all ?" he asked blandly, with just a tinge of satire in his tone, as I gently wipe i my brow with a brand new silk handker chief. " Yes," I replied with a sigh, regretting at the moment that I had not carried out my original intention of extending the play to two years, as they do in China and Japan, "Will you kindly oblige mo with a list of the titles ?" he asked, a peculiar smile playing about the corners of his mouth, which, I must confess, savoured of chaff to me. However, tho arbiter of my dramatic future was too mighty a personage for me to show my resentment to, although a time might come when he would be obsequious to me. "Tho MS. you see before you, sir, all belongs to a single drama," I remarked, drawing myself up proudly. "Nothing like it has ever come before you, 1 trow." " How many acts are there ?" he asked. " Fifty-two, each act to last the entire week." " You'll have to pay full license for each act," he remarked, with a ferocious grin, as I thought. "The sum of ono hundred and four pounds in all." ' "What!" I exclaimed indignantly. "All that money for reading and licensing a drama ? Preposterous I" Drawing himself up magisterially, ho said severely, as he glanced at my card— "Mr Noggles, do you suppose that the valuable time of Her Majesty's servants can bo taken up for a whole year reading^ jour drama for tho modest sum of two guineas, or threo at tho outside?" "Think of the blessings it will bring upon our native land," I remarked, asuming a theatrical attitude, and waving my hand, with a smile full of benignity. " That's a moot point, sir," he remarked scntentiously. " What will you do ?" ! "Take my colossal work home again," I replied with asperity. " The manager who produces it will have to pay for the li sconsing." Having delivered myself of this crushing remark, I forthwith packed up the precious drama, bade the man who refused to immortalise himself by reading my pre cious effusion good morning, and staggering under my load, made my way out, followed by derisive laughter, as I could have sworn. At last I got the ear of a manager—an enterprising man — whose ambition was oolossal, like my own. But the introduc tion cost many a soy—in fact, I came to the conclusion that getting a play produced was an expensive affair. However, it was something that Fortune smiled upon me. What mattered how much I had spent in pursuit of the fickle jade now that I had got her in my grasp? Once more I chartered a hansom, and, full of Bmiles (failure never entered my head for a moment), was driven to the manager's office, accompanied by the colossal drama. "Take a seat, Mr Noggles," said the great gun, with urbanity, eyeing me critically, and with approval, as I flattered myself. I had, read and heard of many a genius having been in appearance a tat- I terdemalion; but here was I, a spic-and span swell, just turned out by a Bond | street tailor, faultless as to dress, and a man'of parts, as I flattered myself. " You have something good, I hear," he remarked blandly. " A drama in fifty-two acts.," " Yes, my dear sir, you have been cor rectly informed," I replied pleasantly— " Something that will make the fortune of an enterprising manager, and Bmash up all his rivals. With your permission, I will read it to you." "Thanks I" he repliod drily. "I have waded through your 'Scenario.' You mention a real thunderstorm. How is that to bo done, my dear Noggles?" I liked his familiar tone : it augured well, and I replied lightly— "Oh, that's easily managed—a sliding roof to be uncovered when a storm is raging. " But it might occur at tho wrong timo. Besides the audience might object to it. You soo, real rain and thundor and light ning are all vory woll out of doors, but not in." I confess I didn't liko thoso objections, which savoured too much of tho practical; but, of course, I kopt my feelings well under control, merely remarking— "My dear sir, matters of detail need not troublo great minds liko ours. The thing is to produce my drama." " Exactly, my dear sir: my sentiments to a T." My hopes began tq revive. !fhe bait had evidently taken, and the name of Noggles1 would descend to posterity covered with laurels of fame. "You will produce it?" I remarked, grasping his hand with fervour. "Yes, under certain conditions; cash down to the tone of five thousand pqunds, and bills at Recent intervals far a similar amount. If you agree, I guarantee to place the thiqg hefore the public promptly, re gardless of expense." " Yes 1" I thought, "at my expense. Ten thousand pounds I Impossible 1 I will think the matter over," I said, '•' Of course, money is the object with me, sir." He smiled graciously, an.d I took nay leave —a sadder but a wiser mun. The bar at a certain famous restaurant saw me no more: the name of Noggles was a thing of the ex treme past- there. ' In consequence of the great noises I made (my landlady somewhat vulgarly styled them " hawful rows,"^ I re ceived warning, and had. to vacate my pleasant lodgings. How true it is that misfortunes never come alone.

1 managed to secure lodgings in a quiet street, and so ferocious did my disDpsition become that I at once set to v^o.rk t<3 invent an infernal machine thftt would annihilate a wliole army $ one blow. My window over looked a wardrobe, establishment just oppo site,' at the drawing-room window o* which appeared a lady daily, of exquisite love liness and richly apparelled. I was short sighted, owing to the drama I had written, but estill it was sufficiently good to make out the charming graces o| t^e lady in. question. In the same house as mine was a fellow lodgev who, morning and evening, played tho flute. "He is serenading her," ]; thought. " Noggles, you must enter the lists. She, ia yer'y lovely, has rnoueyi Vf> doubt, and is evidently smitten with you.

Your rival must be sU?;ieed." I was no. mean performer on the double bass, an in strument 1 had too long neglected'faf the perfidious drama. One evening 4 produced it, and flattei myself tiurt fhe feutist was nowhere.. J cpmptetely drowned his tootling- W "»-• Etruijfteht gave forth a volu«ie of sowad, at times sroanipg as if attacked hy a very fess qqUq. My km w*l gswsd %* sy»

pathiea of our landlady in some underhand way, and sho gave mo warning. But I was equal to the occasion. She kept three cats, two dogs, a parrot, several canaries, besides domestic fowls. Takingdown an old volume, I protended to read an Act of Parlia ment prohibiting more than one of a kind of any bird or beast being kept in any house in the United Kingdom. I heard no more of having to !e»*e : but I did of my rival, who began to learn the trombone, against whose sonorous notes my poor double-bass stood no chance. A diabolical idea occurred to me. I would invite him to visit me, and play him a trick that would force him to abdicate both the lovely lady opposite and the lodgings in my favour. I succeeded beyond my most sanguine expectations, as will presently appear. Procuring a number of yollow gingorbrcad cakes, I placed them on my table, attaching to them pieces of wire. Whon ho appeared 1 said fero-

ciously— "Ha ! ha ! You die I The yellow sub stance before you is dynamite ! Swear to abdicate everything in my favour—even to the obnoxious trombone—or you are blown to smithorcens I"

He fled wildly from the spot, and I laughed gleefully. But presently an in spector and two constables camo and took me off to the station, placing the ginger bread cakes very gingerly in a bag, and despatching them to Woolwich for inspec tion. I languished in prison a whole week, when I was released, and rushed to my lodgings, only to find that the wardrobe shop had been burned down in my absence. Judge of my astonishment on learning that the lady I had fallen in love with_ was only a wax image. Now I eschew ambition, and conclude that all my troubles arose from being " too clever by half."

HONOUR AMONG THIEVES.

Two Stories Told at an Officers'

Mess.

A quiet old gentleman, a civilian, of about sixty years of age, entered into conversation with me across the table. After a little palaver upon a variety of subjects we began to talk about robberies and other adventures on tho road. He seemed to have studied the " Newgate Calendar" with the greatest attention, and knew the names and offences of every poor devil that had danced upon nothing for the last hundred years. I began to fancy, at last, I had got into con versation with Mr Wontn'er, at the least, if not with Jack Ketch himself. There was one story he told me, which he took his oath was by no means a lie—if it was, that is his business, not mine.

"About thirty years ago," he said, "my friend Mr B having at that time newly commenced business in Edinburgh, was returning on horseback from the city to a cottage he had near Grammond. When he had proceeded about three miles from the town, and had come to the loneliest Eart of the way, he was suddenly arrested y a man who sprung out of a small copse and seized tho bridle of his horse. Mr B was a man of great calmness and resolution, and asked the man the reason of his behaviour without betraying tho smallest symptom of agitation. Not so the assailant. He held the bridle in his hand, but Mr B remarked that it trembled excessively. "After remaining some time, as if ir resolute what to do, and without uttering a word, he let go his hold of the rein, and said Nina trembling voice, 'Pass on, sir, pass on ;' and then he added, ' I thank God I am yet free from crime.' "Mr B was struck with the manner and appearance of the man, and said, 'I fear you are in distress—is there anything in which a stranger can assist you ?' "' Strangers may, perhaps,' replied the man in a bitter tone, ' for nothing is to be hoped for from friends.' "'You speak, I hope, under somo mo mentary feeling of disappointment.' "' Pass on, pass on I" he said im patiently ; ' I have no right to utter any complaints to you. Go home and thank God that a better spirit withheld me from my first intention when I heard you ap proach, or this might have been ' lie suddenly paused. "'Stranger,' said Mr 8., in a tone of real kindness, 'you say you have no right to utter your complaints to me. I certainly have no right to pry into your concerns, but I am interested, I confess, by your manner and appearance, and I frankly make you an offer of any assistance I can be stow.'

'"You know not, sir, the person to whom you make so generous a proppsal—a wretch stained with vices—degraded from the station he once held, and on the eve of becoming a robber—aye I' he added, ' per haps a murderer.' '"I care not, I care not, for your former crimes—sufficient for me that you repent them. Tell me wherein I can stand your friend.'

" 'For myself, I am careless,' replied the man, ' but there is one who looks to me with eyes of quiet and still unchanged affection, though she knows I have brought her from a home of comfort to share the fate of an outcast- and a beggar. I wished, for her sake, to become once more respect able, to leave a country where I am known, and to gain character, station, wealth—to all which she is so justly entitled—in a foreign land; but I have not a shilling in the world.'

" Here he paused, and Mr B. thought ho saw him weep. He drew out his pocket book, and, unfolding a Bank bill, he put it in the man's hand, and said, 'Here is what I hope will ease you from present diffi culties—it is a note for £100.'

"The man started as he received the paper, and said, in a subdued tone, ' I will not attempt to th^rik you, sir—may I ask your name and address ?' Mr B. aave him what he required. ' Farewell, sir, said the stranger,' when I have expiated my faults by a life of honesty I will pray for you; till then—l dare not.' Saying these words he bounded over the edge and disappeared. Mr B. rode home, wondering at the occur rence, and he has often said since that he never derived so much pleasure from a hundred pounds in his lifo. "One day, about twelve years after the adventure, he was sitting with a few friends after dinner when a note was put into his hand, and the servant told him thsrt the Leith carrier had brought a, hogshead of claret into the hall. Ho opened the note, and found it to. contain an order for £100 with interest up to that time, accompanied with the strongest expressions of gratitude for the service done tq the writer long ago. It had no date, but informed him that he was happy, that he was respected, and that he was admitted partner of one ol the finest mercantile houses in the city where he lived. Fyory ypftr the same present was continued- The wine, as I have good reason to kno\y, was of the finest, for many a good m,agnum of it I have drunk at the, hospitable i table of my friend."

" And a very gentlemanly proper sort of robber, upon my life," said ColonelO'Looney. " T'would have been a pity to hang such a good judge of claret. Now, the London rogues are yery different. I was walking one day dp,w« into the city, and stopped for a moment to look at some, piotures in a window in St. Paul's Churchyard. Before I had time to say .Jack Robinson, half-a -dozen fellows kept pushing close around me, and at last I felt a little tug at my pooket, and discovered that my purse had disap peared like lightning, J seised on the fel low who. was standing next me, and in tended at all events to have the pleasu^ y hreftking every bone in his skit, for my money, when a very genteel-fooliing young fellow came up, and saysi be* " You've sus tained some loss, J iw, sir."

" Loss I" s.aya I, " to be surel have ; and this little owld rascal here denies he has got my purse_, though he has been close to my pocket this last quarter oi an hour." '.'.' May I beg,' says the gentleman again, 1 may I beg to. Squire if your loss i cry serious ?,'

V 'Faith, it's more than I can'afford, especially for so little satisfaction as only thrashing this little awld thief here.' "'How much may I ask, sir? I assure you \ am. deeply interested in your mis fortune.'

" 'Why, then, thero was exactly fourteen sovereigns in gold, and a ton pound Bank of England note.' <,'' Are you aware of the number of tho note, so as to stop it at the Bank ?'

"'Not I,'said I, note from Adam.'

' I shouldn't know the

v' Then, sir,' replied my compassionate friend, 'I am very much obliged to you for you.r information, for that rascal, Jim Croggs, that forked your ely, swore there was nothing but five sovereigns. There are three o$ us in the lay, and it's just eight pounds a-piece/ '' Before I had time to double my fist and knock his brains out on the spot, he had disappeared up some dark alley. In the meanwhile a great crowd had collected, and theman I had seized by the coilarwaited very patiently till he saw a policeman, and im mediately gave- me in charge for an assault. .On looking at the man, fee really seemed a wy resyectaWeawtof^eisoa, and 1 was

sorry for having mistaken him for the thief. I apologised to him as well as I could, arid offered him any compensation he chose. He swore it was a hard thing for a gentle man, although reduced in circumstances, to be accused of robbery on the publio streets, but at last consented to accept a douceur of £20. Luckily, I was known at a shop in the neighbourhood, where I went and borrowed the requisite funds. The moment he had got the money into hia hands he said, ',Now, don't you go telling Bill Filch or Jim Scraggs about this here trifle, as it's quite a private transaction 'tween ourselves; but I must be off for my share of the twenty-four. Good-bye.' So that the three gentlemen made a very good thing of it, though the villains have never thought of making up for it by tho smallest present." , ■

Shocking Outrage in Poland.

The "Dziennik Poznanski" gives _tho following remarkable story:—One of tho inhabitants of tho Polish town Radoun, named Kammer, a publican, received an anonymous letter, which stated that his daughter, who had been married for five years to a co-religionist named Rosenzweid, was that night in great danger. The father, greatly alarmed, fetched the daughter and her infant child to spend the night in his own house. About midnight the house was surrounded by soldiers belonging to an artillery regiment stationed in tho town, and a gendarme knocked at the door, demanding that it should be opened, on a pretext that a light was burning in the tavern, contrary to the orders of the polico. The door was hardly opened when tho Staff-Captain Koreniew, dressed in the uniform of the polico, two civilians, somo gendarmes, nnd a number of other soldiers forcod their way in. They ordered tho daughter to go with them, and on her refusal they tore her out of bed and turned her out of the houso almost naked, and with hor baby in her arras. Her father and stop-mother were pinioned andgagged, and then the invaders proceeded to take possession of all the money, clothes, furniture and valuables on which they could lay their hands. Help from without was not forthcoming, for the neighbouring houses were surrounded by soldiers, who allowed no one to pass. The watchmen, who hurried to the spot when the alarm was given, were warned to keep their distance. The daughter and her child were led away. The woman was baptized in church next day, and forced to marry a quartermaster's sergeant; three days after, her infant was also baptised. The details of this outrage, says the "Jewish World," seem incredible, and we almost hope to hear them contra dicted. Failing this, all lovers of justice will sympathise in our anxiety to learn what has been done to redress the wrongs ot those so cruelly injured.

Stories of Queen Victoria.

In the book just published concerning the life of the Queen, thore are some interesting' stories told. It is now nearly half a century. since the young Princess of Kent was called to the Throne of England. The author tolls how the Duke of Kent was wont to say, showing his baby daughter to his friends, " Look at her well, for she will bo Qucon of England." The mariner'in which the news of her accession to the Throne was conveyed to the Queen has often been told, and the self-possession with which the young Sovereign first met her counsellors at Kensington Palace is again recalled in these memoirs, Telling of the eventful Coronation Day, the author relates how "It was i-aid that the Queen's crown was too cumbrous, and disturbe the arrangement of those soft braids of hair, the simple modest fashion of which called forth Sir Davio^ Wilkie's praise, and that, as her Majesty drove along in her state carriage, she was seen laughingly sub mitting to the good offices of her beautiful companion, seeking to loop up afresh tho rebellious locks which had broken loose. . . . She was very fond of dogs, and possessed a favourite little spaniel, which was always on the look-out for her. She had been away from him longer than usual on this particu lar day. When the state coach drove un to the Palace on her return, she heard tifs bark of joy in the hall. She cried,' There's Dash,' and seemed to forget crown and scep tre in her girlish eagerness to greet her small friend."

There is also an account of the Queen's marriage, and a lively sketch of the famous " Plantagenet Ball," at which the Court of Edward 111. was revived for one evening, and the warlike monarch, his consort Phi lippa, Anne of Britany, Gaston de Foix, Bayard, and Chaucer reappeared at Buck ingham Palace. The first visit to Scotland, where her Majesty and Prince Albert passed so much of their time, was in 1842, when the Royal party made the short voyage from] Woolwich to Leith, escorted by a considerable squadron. Among the many anecdotes included in these volumes is th^fr of a child, who declined " to receive a gra cious advance made to him by the Queen," asserting with the utmost candour, " 1 doa't like you." " But why don't you like me my boy ?" inquired the loving mother of other little ehifdren, in some bewilderment. " Because you are the Queen of England, and you kiUed Queen Mary," the ardent champion of the slain Queen answered boldly.

A Brave Episode in Swiss History.

llf was a glorious sight, says the " Chront | cler," to see th^ Austrian host come on, the horsein front, asat Morgarten,banners flying, armour flashing, the Duke himself the hand , somest man in his army. Outjof very scorn ! they had mo wnoffthe ripening corn, and had ! fed and littered their horses with it; and j some of them rode up to the sate ol Sempaoh and asked for " breakfast for the mowers." "Take care," cried a townsman or the Confederates will give you such a breakfast as you've no stomach for. Don't drop your spoons out of your hands while eating it." Leopold, however, was not quite so foolish as his knights. It was clear that horses could not get at the Confed erates, so, he made his men dismount and, taking their long sixteen-foot lances, form in close column. On tbe column went forcing the Forest men before it by its very weight, and if light-armed infantry had been a.t,hand to take them in flank, the Con federates must have been cut to pieces As it was, the Swiss couldn't get nt their foes. "Break the wooden handles," shouted an Uri man, but it was no good; as fast as a lance was broken, another from behind supplied its place, and sixty Swiss —a great number out of thoir little army had fallen, when Arnold of Winkolried, crying, "Take care of my wife and ohildren, and I'll make a passage for you," rushed on, seized in both arms a sheaf ;of lances, forced himself upon them,*and' falling, bore them down to the ground. His friends swarmed in over his body, ami the day was won. The long lances wore only an enoumbranoe in hand-to-hand fights while the short swords and clubs and Mis of the Swiss dealt destruction in tlieever wid«n ingbreach. An'otherbody of volunteers coming up at the same momen.4, increased the dismay of the Austrians. Leopold thrice led his knights to the oharge; and then, when they fled on all sides, rushed into the midst of theses and fell.—"Men and Mountains." E y H. S. Fagan, in « Good Words,^

Outrages on Christians in China.

A Hong Kono telegram says that the Chinese mobs have been committing fear ful outrages on jDersons_ and places of i Christian worship in Canton and interior points. In the provinces of Kwang-Tung alone four Roman Catholic and five Pro testant churches have been destroyed, 120 : houses of resident Christians looted, and their occupants driven away. In Nam-hoi three Catholic chapels wore pillaged, as were also the houses of converts. The priests and the converts were beaten and ' the women outraged. In Shihung thfe Church of England chapol was dcs troycd. Tho Chinese tore the clothing , from the preacher's wife, and treated her shamefully. In the Chang-sung the Wes leyan chapel was destroyed. Christians are fleeing from the province to Hong Kong. The Chinese gave them the alternative of sacrificing to the idols or leaving their homes. They preferred the latter, but while leaving many of thq women wore caught and outraged. . ■ ' -. ■ . The authorities of twelve Cantonese vil lages have issued notices that all Christians must leave. Fifteen churches in those vil lages have already been destroyed, and several stores looted. Many persons are homeless. In Kite-Yung a mob des troyed all the Roman Catholic and English churches. In Swatow, the Catholic priests were ordered to leave, and, after they had left, Chinese soldiers broke into the houses and ravished the female converts. Although the attention of the Chinese Government has been called to theee barbarous aete, no action has been taken, to prevent ibem or li»nfehti»jperpetifttw.

THE AUCKLAND EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, JANUARY 31, 1885.

3



The Chinese in San Frfingisco are getting on! "_Wjll you have a cigar ?" askjsd pj)e, tendering his neighbour a home-made Havana. "Thimk yon," said the recipient. Andhe tpok the weed, examinpditci-j.tip'ally, apil remarked: "lam miichly surprise that a great merchant like yon -jyill give me a cigar like that." '' Oil," said the donor, "J make mistake; I give yon the cig.sir which jt present the AmeriQW customers—j beg yon pardon,' ; , WES MI. 81/s§. bMtte,.l ß ™i«. I-Wta, infttgl-. bj«ii, rtl« J9ICB, wiww". cMiWflln. "mai out Sr sXmli on jto»ttan»,Preutt*U,A«»i*±ii<*iiiiii



« BUCHU BAIBA.'-'-Qnlck, awwlele ewe, nil mtfH