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THE CHEETHAM GHOST (Serild Story), . • .
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ONLY A WAIF,
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THEODORE HOOK,
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NIGHT,
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CHRISTMAS AND ITS ASSOCIATIONS,
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INDIAN LIFE.
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MR. DON AND HIM NEPHEW, • • .
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L'AFFAIRE D'HONNEUR,
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•JUST IN TIME,
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GRAMMAR SCHOOL LIBRARY, • . •
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ABERDEEN
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SNOOL MflGAZINE,
Notes. WE arc very sorry to observe a slight diminution in the membership of the Debating Society. This can be attributed only to the lax taste for literary culture of the present II. Classical. The subjects of Debate have been very suitably selected, and it is remarkable that a great many more have not joined this well-deserving institution. A pleasing feature of this season's syllabus was the Opening Address. This was delivered by that gentleman, who has formed a lasting friendship with the boys, by his strenuous exertions on behalf of the school and its welfare, we refer to the honoured chairman of the School Board—Rev. J. M. Danson, M.A. The subject of his paper—the Literature of the 17th century—ought to encourage a deeper research into the writings of that period. The new Library Committee has proved itself so energetic in its exertions that it is sincerely hoped that the much miscalled Library will be opened in a month's time. The present III. Classical are not nearly such great " ignoramuses" in their acquaintance with the classics as their predecessors were. By their great reading in classical lore they have at length managed to elucidate the school motto—" Ratio Confirmatio que Doctrinae." Without the help of even a Bohn, the aforesaid erudite body has arrived at the following translation—" The methodical training and the cultivation afforded by learning." The school bell has greatly improved in its tone since our last publication and now by the
adept manipulation of the Janitor the mellifluent " tintinabulation of the bell—swinging slow with sullen roar " results in a volume of sound worthy of a church steeple. Greater impetus has been given to the extra gymnastic class this season by the announcement that six medals—twogold and four silver— are to be given to the most deserving members. The opportunity has been taken advantage of by large numbers. Instructor Black ought to be congratulated on the pitch of excellence to which he has already, and is still bringing his classes. Somehow or other the whole of the last III. Classical did not get into the Bursary list, but nevertheless, they made a highly distinguished appearance as will be seen from the following results. 2nd George Bruce; 4th Murdoch McDonald; 8th J. G. Watt; 9th Alex. Ironside ; 18th J. Rust; 20th A. Munro; 23rd W. K G. Stark; 29th W. R. Black; 32nd A. F. Findlay ; 35th J. Kemp ; 44th It. M‘Lennan. All the above-mentioned received bursaries. Of the other Grammar fellows, James Georgeson deserves special mention, who though in the lowest section of the II. Classical, yet obtained the 85th place. Of the present III. Classical, J. Black was 87th, C. G. Cowie 102nd, A. Mitchell 109th, W. Adams, 110th. Former Grammar fellows still keep up the reputation of the school. The high standard examinations of the Indian Civil Service do not prove " too many " for them, and last year has been no exception, as Mr. J. A. Cumming, an old Grammar fellow, has succeeded in gaining a place in that much-coveted list.
2 At a meeting held lately in the Rector's room the following office-bearers were elected for the ensuing cricket season:— Hon. Captain—A. V. LOTHIAN, Esq. Captain—A. MITCHELL. Hon. See. and Treas.—W. KEY. Committee—C. G. COWIE, J. F. CHRISTIE, W. DAVIE.
Key, however, not feeling himself equal to the onerous duties of his exalted office, afterwards declined in favour of Cowie. By the way, speaking of Cricket, everybody owns that it is a most noble game—but at the same time everyone will no doubt allow that a cricket club without funds is not at all desirable. The following statement of finances has just been received by the Hon. Sec.—Liabilities £9 is. Assets 30s. worth of finest scarlet stockings (!) Such a state of affairs ought to appeal to the heart of every lover of cricket in the time honoured Grammar School of Aberdeen, and every loyal and true-hearted Grammar fellow should make a point of joining the cricket club this season. We have the greatest pleasure in recording that the Debating Society has kindly granted the handsome donation of £2 2s. towards the liquidation of this debt. We may state as an inducement to those who are wavering between two opinions that two wickets are to be started, and that 2nd XI. matches are already arranged for. The present Football season is turning out no better for the Grammar than former ones. Two matches have been won—the " Gym." and King's College return. The Nomad's match was drawn, while four have been lost. The loss of our respected Captain has been very much felt. After a brilliant run in the St. Ronald, and a still more brilliant kick at goal, he fell and sprained his ankle so severely that he will be unable to play more this season. A new department has been started in Football by our energetic Hon. Captain—Mr. A. V. Lothian. We refer to the Association game. Great success has been achieved by the Associa-
tion team. They have drawn with the Aberdeen, and beaten the Orion. There is abundance of excellent material in the team, whose latent energies have been well brought out, under the careful training of Mr. Lothian.
The Cheetham Ghost. CHAPTER V.—AN UNEXPECTED DISCOVERY. WHAT a hatred against the offender did the thefts, however small, rouse in the hearts of every boy in the school. The boys in my form now firmly believed that it must have been the ghost, but this belief we kept to ourselves, being determined to get at the bottom of the affair. At this time there was not much football or out-door sport going on, so I had to amuse myself in the best way I could. I turned to a little practical gardening. I had just got some ferns for which I built a box, and began to transplant them into it. I knew that old dried leaves and sandy earth was the best soil for ferns to grow in, so I borrowed the gardener's barrow, and with the willing aid of my two chums, I resorted to the ruins for some of the leaves which lay so thick there. One afternoon, while busily engaged digging, my spade struck against something harder than the surrounding earth. Guessing it was some old tombstone, we set to work to despoil it of the leaves which covered it. We soon came to the stone, which resembled the others very much, but it appeared to have been moved at no distant date, because the earth was quite soft and fresh round about it. We knew that no one had been buried there for centuries, and our curiosity was awakened. Working the spade as a lever, we soon tilted up the slab, which we were surprised to find was wooden. We looked down into what we thought would be the grave, but instead, there was a passage with a staircase leading downwards. It was rather dark, but we ran downstairs, and found ourselves at the foot of
3 another stair, long and winding upwards. Ascending this we came into a small room, which was lighted by a little side window. There was a door leading from the room, but on lifting the latch, we found it would not open. There was no lock, and we were fairly bamboozled. " Hold on a minute," cried Ned, " I have it." And with that he seized a log of wood which was lying about, and banged it with all his force against a small projection. The door immediately flew open. " How did you think on that ?" said I. " Oh, don't you remember in the B.O.P. how De Clifford got into Silver Jack's den ?" " Of course I do !" " Fiction sometimes does a good turn," remarked Arthur. The sight on our entrance was one which rather surprised us. There was a large room, splendidly lit by some windows at the top and by the side. Our astonishment was now complete, when—scattered over the floor of the room, and piled on the shelves against the walls—we saw the most wonderful variety of objects—boxes, desks, spoons, knives, plate, and valuables, and last, but by no means least, most of the things that had been recently stolen from our school. CHAPTER VI.—ON WATCH. ON examining the room more carefully, we found a small sliding door in one of the walls. This we slid back, and found a small closet with a ladder leading upwards. We passed through—with our curiosity redoubled—and began to ascend the ladder. We saw that it led to a small aperture in the roof. When we had reached the top, and slipped through the opening, picture our amazement when we emerged into the pure air, and found ourselves standing on the top of the thick wall of the old church, beside the very apple tree which it had been the aim of boys for years to reach. How our hearts did beat as we looked upon the fellows in the play-ground. Did they recognise us? or did they even see us? We did not wish them to do either, so we crept
in through the hole, and were soon in the chamber below. We soon arrived at an explanation of the whole mystery. We saw that it was literally a den of robbers who inhabited the place during the night, and from thence made their raids on the surrounding country. We again examined the whole place. The larger room was fitted with a table and some chairs, and, altogether, would have been fairly comfortable, if there had been some glass in the windows. So we considered it possible that this was a sort of meeting place before their nightly expeditions ; we, therefore, formed the bold resolve of watching some night in the small room, if we got a " permit." from the Doctor, and so try to find out who the thieves were, and lead to their capture. Accordingly, we shut the sliding door, re-opened the spring door, which closed after us, and descended to the passage. We went along this, and regained the open air. We put the artificial gravestone in its proper place, threw on the leaves, and, filling another barrowful, we proceeded to the play-ground. The fellows wondered where we had gone to, but you may be sure we didn't let them into our secret. After taking tea, we went to the Doctor's room. He received us kindly, and we detailed to him everything we had found out, and asked if we would be allowed to watch for a night, to complete our discovery. The Doctor quickly gave his consent, provided we should acquaint the police, and get one of them to help us in our search. So, in a short time, the Doctor drove me over to the police office, at Cowbridge, and told the matter to the inspector, who promised to send a couple of constables over at nine. On my re..urn to the school, a council of war was held in my room, and our plans were fully matured. CHAPTER VII.—BROUGHT TO BAY. AT nine o'clock precisely the constables arrived, carrying with them the rope ladder, which the inspector had been the first to suggest. We danced with joy at the daring of our undertaking, but our ardour gradually cooled down
4 as we approached the ruins. For what would befall us if one of the gang happened to enter the room where we were concealed? What could two policemen and three boys do against a gang of whose number we were perfectly ignorant ? However, we did not dare to expose our fears to the stalwart guardians of the law, who were our companions, and marched along beside us with an air of considerable dignity and importance. We reached the ruins, tore up the tombstone, went through the different rooms and passages, and were soon on the top of the wall. We made the rope ladder fast, gave a low whistle, and let it down. The policemen ascended nimbly, and we had taken up our position in a few seconds. We waited there two weary hours. Whilst the town bells were striking eleven, we heard the first man arrive. Soon afterwards a few more followed, and when discussion commenced, eight or ten in all had collected. When the candles were lit, I was able to see them more closely through a chink in the wall. There was one face there which I was certain I had seen before, but I could not for the moment recollect where. Then the memory of the dreadful night flashed across my mind, and I was conscious that in the next room sat the dreaded Ghost - of St. Boniface's Nun. Gradually the whole plot dawned upon me. He had simply taken the key of the desk from Prescott's pocket, gone into the classroom, and robbed it ; and the time when I had seen him by the bedside was the moment when he was returning it. But from this reverie I was awakened by a speech from the " ghost," who was communicating to his companions in guilt another robbery. It was a further one from the school, since the last one had been so successful. After much deliberation, it was resolved that the robbery should be committed on the 20th, and, as this was the 17th, we had three days to perfect our plans. When this resolution had been come to, the group departed; a quarter of an hour afterwards we descended by the rope ladder. We rushed up to the Doctor's
study and reported our news. He was very well pleased with us, and told us to take every precaution, and with this we retired to our dormitories in peace. At length the 20th arrived, and soon after nine o'clock half-adozen constables had taken up their position around the school. We also participated in the scene. About ten o'clock three figures cautiously approached the school, and took their stand under the window of the fifth form's dormitory. One of the three then dressed in white, ascended by a ladder, and, having noiselessly removed a pane of glass, entered the room. His two accomplices then took up their post below the fifth form classroom. In a short time someone began to hand out books, money, etc., from the inside by means of a broken pane. After it seemed that they had got quite enough booty, the constables approached the two thieves quietly, and caught them. But just at that moment a figure clad in white was seen to make his exit by one of the windows of the classroom, and take to his heels in double-quick manner. We three rushed after him down into the meadow, past the ruins, along the river bank, and just as he was preparing to leap the school wall, I sprung on his back, and brought him to earth. In a short time the policemen came up, panting and puffing, and having fitted on the " bracelets," led the whole three in triumph to the police office. CHAPTER VIII. eventful proceedings, we slowly AFTER these quieted down to our ordinary work, until one day Ned and I were handed a blue official paper, which —• with some trepidation — we opened in a corner. It was a summons, the Doctor said, to us as witnesses against our late friends of St. Boniface, who were to be tried at CoWbridge for burglary. Of course, we felt more than ever our own importance, and the rest of the fellows were so envious at our helping at a real trial. The rest of that week I spent in writing out a beautiful story about our
5 exploits, sticking in a lot of big words from the "die.," and a few Latin quotations. I would recite this to the judge, and considerably impress him with the superiority of our Cheetham education. Well, the trial day came, and Ned and Prescott and I, with some other fellows, and old Paddie, drove to the town, and reached the assize about ten. The judge, with his redcoated trumpeter, had just gone in, and we were taken at once to the court. We soon recognised our old friends in the dock, with some other prisoners, looking rather dirty, and not very happy. There was a big table below the bench with a lot of stout, old, red-nosed gentlemen in wigs, looking over a pile of blue papers, and not far off were our assistants, the village policemen, nodding across to us as we sat down. A tallow-coloured, bald-headed, usher, with a long rod, was saying something in a great hurry and a bad temper; and the jurymen, whom he was talking to, were trying to look solemn, and kiss a small greasy volume. Luckily, our men were the first to be tried. I thought it rather cool the way they shouted out "not guilty," and that it was rather a waste of time for one of the stout old gentlemen at the table, who stood up and said he defended these unfortunate young men. He scratched his wig, and asked that all the witnesses should leave the court. Another wig and red nose said something, and we were all bundled—to our great indignation—into a small room outside the court. In a short time Ned was called in by the ill-tempered usher, and twenty minutes after "Thomas Tittlebat" was yelled, in a way that made all the blood run to the points of my fingers. I went in, and was put into a high box opposite the jury. One of the red-noses stood up and asked me my name, and my occupation, and my age, and a lot of other impertinent questions. Then he bade me tell the court how we had found out the robbers' retreat. So I began the beautiful speech I had written for the occasion, and which was now in my trousers pocket.—
" One balmy eve in March, while in pursuit of our horticultural and botanical studies, Mr. Ned Bates said to me," Tommy, these ferns—" and then up jumped the old red-nose who had sent us out of court, and spoke to the judge, while the rest of the gentlemen with the wigs and the long gowns were laughing loudly, I can't say why. The judge turned to me, looking as grumpy as ever, but just a little amused, and said, " We don't want to know what Mr. Bates or anybody else said, but what you did ; and you must not make a recitation to the jury, but tell the story briefly, and in your own words." So all my fine dictionary words, and lines from Virgil were no use, and I had to answer some absurdly easy questions by old red-nose. Then the first lawyer jumped up, and asked me a lot of rubbish about being afraid of ghosts ; all of it I indignantly denied, and Ned looked up and cried, " Hear, hear, Tommy." Then the old usher got in a fury, and rushed at Ned with his long stick, and threatened to put him out; but the judge half-smiled again, and told Ned to be quiet, or he might get into trouble. So at last I got over, and went down to Ned. There was a lot of more witnesses, for the prisoners had been connected with most of the robberies in the county for a long time. Then there were speeches by the rosy-nosed lawyers and by the judge. The jury didn't think long before they said " guilty," and then all our friends got an awful "rowing" from the judge, who finished up by sending them to penal servitude for Seven Years. After it was all over, we went home and had a grand tea with Paddy and his wife. Next day the papers gave a full account of our brilliant appearance at Cowbridge, and I sent copies home, and to all my old chums far and near. That night, I had a grand supper in my room. All my chums were there, and I was supported on the right by Ned, and on the left by Arthur. We had a fine night of it as long as it lasted, and the sentiment proposed, and received with greatest acclamation, was—" The Discoverers of the Cheatham Ghost." [THE END.]
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Song. " Heart-wan and woeful I am waiting love for thee." Heart-wan and woeful, I am waiting love for thee, With fighting tired from time to time, not dung with destiny ; And I long to see the brown buds bursting on the tree, In the spring, when linnets sing, in the kind countree. Maugre mammon manifold, and all its courtesee, It does not deal a dole from its merry mint to me ; With whole heart and love leal, yet dreary days I dree, And lone here I moan dear, for home—my home with thee. When maysies mottle mossy mounds, and glens are glossy green— Laverocks lilt at day dawn, and cushats crood at een— I will dander with my dog where nor gilt nor gaud is seen, But the thrushes' music gushes, and lasses laugh between. But then when golden glancing at gloamin' gleams the sky, And dew-blobs on violets and genty gowans lie,— I will wander where the warbling waves in rowing ripples run, With thee, love, in glee, love, and God our hearts within. In lore and land there's pride and joy, if faithful hearts endear— There's wale o' worth in wine and wealth, if passion bid them cheer— And fate is not a fumbling fool, and love is love for aye, Though the best, dear, must wrest here their mend in fellest fray. A. D. le.
Only a Waif. CHAPTER I. " You deserve to be horsewhipped, sir !" Mr. Phillips was a hard man. No fatherly love, no appreciation of a parent's duty to a child ever had he. Cold and selfish to the uttermost degree, he seemed to ignore the existence of all but of himself. Truly was his mind "concentrated all on self," as the poet says. He had an only child, a son, who stood in constant dread of his stern and unfeeling parent. For do what he might, little Jack, for so the child was called, could never please his father; and whatever he tried, he always appeared to do wrong. Thus, although he did
his honest best, he was invariably rejected, and with blows. The boy seems to have had a little inborn stupidity, blundering in almost everything he put his hand to. What else could be expected of a child bereft of a mother's soothing influence and protecting care, and utterly neglected by its sole surviving parent ? But, withal, Jack was possessed of a noble and truly heroic nature, which could not be appreciated by such a person as his father was. The words that open this story were uttered by Mr. Phillips during one of his customary bursts of passion, and he was expending his wrath, as usual, upon his unlucky son. "Yes, you deserve to be horsewhipped, you careless fool," reiterated the unnatural parent, "forever pestering me with your stupidity. Get out of this, and stay out." He concluded by giving the unfortunate boy a vigorous kick. Jack rushed from the house, his heart full and did not stop till he had placed some considerable distance between him and his home. He could restrain himself no longer. Laying himself down on an embankment, he burst into tears. Poor Jack ! he had tried his best, and failed. What more could he do ? "Mother, mother :" he sobbed, " why did you leave me ? oh, why did you not take me with you ?" He dimly remembered, long, long ago, the kind, sweet face of his mother, and one day in particular came vividly back to his mind— the day he was carried to the bedside of his dying parent, and kissed for the last time. He did not understand the grief in the house then ; he was only a child. But now, as he lay sobbing as if his heart would break, his mother's sweet face seemed to be before him, smiling—oh : so kindly—as of yore. Somewhat refreshed by his outburst, Jack dried his tears, and turned towards home. Home : The very thought of the word seemed to mock him. What one of those tender associations that are usually connected with
M home had he ever had ? None—none !- The word recalled to his mind only his father's cruelty, and his wretched life. No, he will not go back ; he will take his father at his word. With this resolve, Jack turned his back on his home—for ever. CHAPTER II. IT is Christmas Eve.
It is a wild night. The wind is howling fearfully among the house-tops, ever and anon dashing with irresistible fury the drenching sleet against the window-panes. A few persons are hurrying along one of the streets of London, their heads bent to protect their faces from the cutting wind. Something on a doorstep attracts their attention. They stop and peer down into the darkness. " Only a waif," they mutter, and move on. Suddenly the object rises from the doorstep upon which it was seated, and walks slowly down the street. It appears to be a boy about thirteen years of age, thinly clad, and a half-starved look on his haggered face. He shivers as a sudden gust strikes him, his scanty clothing affording but little resistance to the biting wind. As he moves slowly along, appearing to care little for the intense cold, he glances wonderingly at the moon, which is gleaming fitfully between the swiftly-flying clouds. He remembers being told in his happy childhood by his dead mother that the moon was one of God's messengers, an emblem of His purity, and he wonders whether site is up there, far above the clouds, watching tenderly over her orphan boy. The waif stops before a brightly-illuminated window, whence proceed sounds of music and dancing. Every now and then he hears merry bursts of laughter from the children, some perhaps of his own age. Did no thought of the poor waifs outside, exposed to the bitter cold, ever cross the minds of those children, who knew no trials, and to whom all was joy ? Probably not.
The boy turns away with a deep sigh, for the merry shouts only recall his bygone childhood. Ding, dong ! ding, dong ! ding, dong ! Only a quarter of an hour till Christmas. But Christmas had never brought any joy to the outcast, and it was not likely that this one would be different from the rest. Hark ! what sound is that ? The boy turns, and to his horror perceives a horse, evidently beyond control, dashing towards him at a furious rate. Merciful heavens! the brute is speeding straight towards the Thames. Not an instant is to be lost if the occupants are to be saved. The boy takes in the situation at a glance. One bold dash and he is hanging at the horse's neck. The animal, frightened at this sudden rush, swerves a little, and the occupantr are saved. But alas! the preserver himself is not so fortunate. His fingers being benumed with cold, he slips from the reins and the carriage goes over him. A gentleman hastily descends from the vehicle and raises the unconscious form. "Jack, my lost son," suddenly cries the gentleman, " my poor, ill-used boy. Oh, say you will forgive me, Jack. Oh, you will not die." The dying boy slowly opens his eyes. " Father," he says, ' I was to blame ; but I did my best." Then a sweet smile lights up his wan features, as he looks up to heaven and whispers softly, "Yes, mother, I'm coming," and his spirit has fled, to spend the Christmas where all is endless joy ; singing with the angels the strain which on earth the church bells have now begun to chime—" Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, goodwill to men." J. G.
8
Theodore Hook.
on, enjoying the fun from a window opposite. Like Charles Lamb, he could compose excellent verses on any topic one liked to give him. He was attached to the staff of John Bull, and on one occasion when the clerk came, as usual, with his salary, he entered his room and said Have you heard the news ? The king and queen of the Sandwich Islands are dead, and," added the clerk, "we want something about them." " You shall have it," said Hook. " Its done !
THEODORE HOOK was born in Charlotte Street, Bedford Square, on the 22nd September, 1788. " His father's fame and income were derived from the composition of operetta songs, for which Theodore usually wrote the libretto." In 1812, when he was in great want of money, he was appointed Accountant-General and Treasurer at Mauritius ; but on account of his utter unfitness for business, he was soon recalled. In 1819 he returned to England, . ' Waiter, two sandwiches cried Death, and, on being asked if he returned through illAnd their wild majesties resigned their breath.' " health, he replied, "They think there is Hook was well acquainted with all the something wrong in the chest." For four years famous actors and playwriters of his time. after his return he baffled justice, and it was Among the latter was John Poole, the author not till 1823 that he was removed to the Rules of "Paul Pry." He lived what might be of the Bench. In 1825 he was discharged, called a rather fast life, but was compelled to and took up his abode at Putney. Shortly work till the last, not only for himself, but afterwards he removed to Cleveland Row, and also for a family of children. He died at the subsequently to Fulham, where he died. comparatively early age of fifty-three, on the What, above everything else, made Hook 24th of August, 1841, and was buried in the famous was his wonderful loquacity and ready churchyard of Fulham, which adjoined his repartee. When asked by the Vice-Chancellor residence. of Oxford if he was prepared to subscribe to the thirty-nine articles. " Oh, certainly," said " Night." Hook, " to forty of them, if you please." Meeting the Proctor of the same University WHEN the silvery moon is shedding O'er the earth her mellow light, dressed in his robes, the question was put to And the summer stars are shining, him—" Pray, sir, are you a member of this "ris then I love the night. University ? " Hook replied—" No, sir ; pray, When the perfumed breezes wander are you ?" O'er my brow amongst my hair, Mr. Barham, his biographer, relates several Causing sweet and pleasant langour, of these witty sayings, and adds that, when he Then I own the night is fair. was a young man, he had a museum containWith the one I love beside me, ing a large collection of knockers, signs, doorHer soft hand clasped in mine, Her beaming eyes turned on me, nobs, barbers' poles, Sr.c., which he had Night is indeed divine. gathered in his predatory adventures. The CHATELARD. curiosity which he most prized was a gigantic highlander, which he had looted from a tobacconist's door on a dark, foggy night. He Christmas and its Associations. once posted nearly 400 letters, inviting people " In furry pall y'clad, His brow enwreathed with holly never sere, on a certain day to visit the house of a wealthy Old Christmas comes to close the waning year. lady. On the appointed day, a large number of carriages and foot passengers arrived at the THE festival of Christmas, associated as it is lady's house, while he and two friends looked with the annals of the Christian world, will •
9 always merit our consideration, whether viewed in its religious or historical aspect. Extinct as the stately ceremonies of the festive by. gone times have become, and tame as the season now is, compared with the hearty jollity of our ancestors, still there is a pleasurable thrill of interest when it annually recurs, and when we look back to review the ancient customs with which Christmas-Tide was bound up, and of which there are still lingering remains, dim though the reflex be. In all civilized nations Christmas is observed in high style, especially in the British Isles, where work for the day, and sometimes for a week or so after, is intermitted. We shall observe a charitable silence regarding the nature of the observance in many cases ; yet, in spite of all excesses amongst the more intemperate members of society, Christmas is in most families a season of joy. Absent relatives and friends revisit the scenes of their youth, and meet around the social hearth once more, when the glow of the pleased countenances is brighter almost than the ruddy glare of the cheerful fire. Then, though but for a short hour or two the door is barred against the frosty winds, the elders discuss the topics of the day, or recall " the days of auld lang syne," the younger members rove through the house, and as Burns says :— " Love blinks, wit slaps, an' social mirth Forgets there's care upon the earth."
In the reigns gone by, when the court festivities were being enacted, the hospitable character of the times pervaded the lower ranks, and the " real old English gentleman" was to be seen at his gate distributing victuals to the poor, to cheer their hearts in the merry Christmas time. A good list of the sports of Christmas in days gone by is to be found in Burton's " Anatomy of Melancholy." Among others are mentioned—" Cards, dice, shovelboard, ehesse, the philosopher's game, small trunkes, shuttlecocke, musicke, jests, riddles, merry tales, post and pair, hot cockles, &c., &c." The acting of the play of " St. George and
the Dragon" was for long one of the delights of the season, and this leads us to the " pantomime" of the present day. The characters of the pantomime may be traced to heathen divinities; the harlequin to Mercury, the clown to Momus, and the pantaloon to Charon. What a contrast indeed, does the enlightened scene of the present day present to the coarse delights, and the atrocious cruelties, performed at the Saturnalia and festivals of the kind? Even the Christmas customs of Christian England, centuries ago, must not be regretted, now that they have passed away. Many, if persevered in, would be utterly inconsistent with the march of reason and progress. We bid them farewell, not insensible, however, to a certain influence for good they had in establishing in the minds of mankind a veneration for God, and in uniting rich and poor—each class holding forth the hand of fellowship at least for the season. OMICRON.
The Zoo. MONDAY is the popular day at the Zoo, simply because it is the cheap day, for then the charge is sixpence, instead of one shilling as on other days. As we enter, we read at the gate—" The Lions and Tigers are fed at 4, P.M." Any person ignorant of the time will soon be made cognisant of it by the animals themselves. A general stampede of visitors is then made towards the handsome lion house, with its fourteen double dens, in which there are at present about twenty-five boarders, raging up and down. Creatures with shining, eager, hungry eyes are turning one way to watch for the piled-up barrow—that welcome load which the keeper will composedly wheel along, pitchforking to each beast its huge morsel of raw beef. Strange it is to hear the noise die out on the man's track, and to see each beast contentedly eating away at its own portion. The.
10 dens which formerly belonged to the lions are now filled by bears, wolves, and hyenas. The restless, lank wolf wanders noiselessly up and down, while the hyena, whose nature it is to pass its life in dark holes and corners, crouches and blinks uneasily, now and then opening its strong jaws and giving hoarse vent to a most unearthly ha ! ha ! ha ! Over the dens of the hyenas is a terrace, from which can be seen the bears clambering up and down a pole, placed in the centre of their. pit. Though it may not be generally known, bears are fonder of buns than monkeys. The seals are fed at half-past four, when the keeper arrives with his basket of herrings. The seals dive and elbow each other for a minute or two, and then they make for the chairs that are set for them, and take their chance for the fish that begin to shower around them. Not far distant is the hippopotamus' house. There are only two, I think, named Anthony and Cleopatra, and they are not prepossessing. Generally, one of them is standing with upturned, wide-opened mouth, ready for friendly contributions, from a quartern loaf upwards. Of course in a place like this there are birds in every direction—singing birds, talking birds, wading birds, and nearly every kind of feathered creature one could mention. There is the absurd-looking toucan, with its waxenlike bill, to which the small gold or black body seems as if an appendage. Outside there are the water birds, flamingoes, whose long legs are so awkward that their owners appear to be always trying to fold one up, so as to poke it out of sight; the pelican, heavy and sleepy, except when pouncing on any unwary fish, and many others, too numerous to mention. In the monkey house, in the middle of the gardens, may be seen endless varieties rolling and tumbling about. In the middle is a large case where the mischievous monkeys are, being as ready to snatch off a studious gentleman's spectacles, and to fit them on their own bit of nose, as to pounce upon and rend his daughter's flowers or feathers.
Then on we go, past lemurs, spider monkeys, bats, ansers, and I don't know what all. Following the elephant with its load of children, we come to the Indian rhinoceros " Begum," who was brought here at a cost of £1,250. A reptile house has recently been erected. Within are countless lizards, chameleons, toads, turtles, crocodiles, and alligators. Safely caged behind plate glass are the serpents, from the python—twisting itself round logs and trees— to the venomous African and Indian snakes. Formerly these animals were wrapped up in blankets to keep up the temperature, but we can now admire their beautiful colouring and variety. But here we are, once more, at the gate, where we learn that no fewer than 743,485 folks rambled in and out of these gardens during the past year, to view the 2,398 inhabitants —furred, feathered, and scaled,--paying for the privilege £28,966. A flourishing wild-beast show, surely. E. M. Virgil Eclogue IV.
Pollio. Muses of Sicilia, let us Sing in somewhat nobler strain About thee divinest Pollio, Married to immortal fame. For all copses do not please us, Nor indeed the tamarisks low, If we shall sing of the forests, Let them to their consul bow. Now, forsooth, the hymn of Cumin To its latest age has come ; And the mighty line of cycles, Has commenced anew to run. Now, Justitia has returned, And the reign of Saturn's nigh, And a quite new race of people, Is sent down from heaven high. Speed his birth, 0 chaste Lucina, Under whom the iron age Shall first fail, and through the world, Glorious will the golden rage.
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a ;i
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And when thou art consul, Pollio, Glorious will this age begin ; And the mighty months will roll on, And Apollo will be king.
And now shall the sturdy ploughman, From the yoke his oxen loose ; Then wool for the first time shall not Counterfeit the various hues.
Under thee, whatever traces Of our nation's guilt remain, Shall be wiped out, and release us From an evergalling chain.
Then the ram shall on the meadows Change the whiteness of his fleece, For the sweetly-blushing crimson, And the yellow saffron piece.
He the life of gods will taste of, And see hereos mixed with gods ; And he, with his father's virtues, Shall rule people freed from loads.
" Ages then be such your circuit," To their wheels the Parcae said, As they truly did agree to The appointment by fate made,
Then for thee, 0 god-like infant, Shall the earth her produce yield ; And, without requiring tillage, Crops shall wave o'er every field.
Offspring of the gods, I pray thee, Soon thy sovereign honours claim, For the world is all awaiting Thee, majestic child of fame.
And her simple gifts she'll pour forth, Ivy with the foxglove twined, And the gorgeous Egypt lily, With acanthus unrefined.
See ! behold the world nodding, With its ponderous vault and bands, With its mighty plains of ocean, And its depths of heavenly lands.
And the she-goats, of their own will, With their milk, by no means light, From their pastures shall return home, Nor shall fear the lion's might.
See how all things are exulting In the age that is to come ; Oh, may life and breath be left me, To exalt deeds by thee done.
Everywhere, Assyrian spices Shall spring up, with sweetest breaths ; But when thou shalt learn to read of Exploits, and great heroes' deaths,
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Orpheus then shall not surpass me, Even with his mother's help ; Nor, indeed, the beauteous Linus, Aided by Apollo's self.
And the great deeds of thy father, And to walk in virtue's lane,— Then the gently-waving corn Shall grow on the yellow plain.
Then if Pan were to strive with mc, Even though a god he be, Yet, with all Arcadia judging, He would quickly yield to me.
Then, too, shall the untamed bramble Hang upon the ruddy vine ; And the hardy oaks shall waft forth Honey-dew through all the wind.
Only those on whom their parents Have smiled, are of heaven dign, And these shall, throughout the cyles, Taste the glorious life divine.
Yet, indeed, there will some traces Of our nation's guilt remain, To surround our towns with ramparts, And with ships to plough the main. Then shall be another Tiphys, And Achilles, Peleus' joy, With the Argo, and great heroes Shall be sent again to Troy. Next, when thou halt grown to manhood, Merchants eke shall seek the shore, And, indeed, the pine-built vessel, Shall exchange its wares no more. And in every heard-of region, Every product shall be grown ; Yet throughout the earth abundant, Nowhere shall the rake be known.
W. MESTON.
Indian Life. THE year in India is divided into two seasons,
the hot and the cold. The cold season in most parts of India is not nearly so rigorous as_ in this country. Snow is very seldom found anywhere else than in the hill stations, in the various parts of India. The heat however is very intense in the lower or plain stations all over the country. In the hot season it is not safe to go out of doors after ten in the morning without an umbrella and - large sun
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hat or " sola topee " as it is called. These hats I may mention are made of pith. They are somewhat of the shape of a " sou'-wester," only they have the long peak of the " sou'-wester " both ways, to protect the neck and face of the wearer. The heat continues until between four and five in the afternoon when it gets gradually less, and during the night it is generally pretty cool. The house during the hot season is cooled by means of large frames suspended from the roof which are used as fans and are moved by being pulled by a native. Large frames made of bamboo and covered with a sweet smelling grass known as " cuscus " are also used for cooling purposes. These frames known as " cuscus-taties" are fitted into those doors of the house into which the hot wind is blowing. Water is frequently thrown on them, and when the wind blows through them into the room it becomes a delightfully cool breeze. A house in India is known as a bungalow, and usually stands in a plot of ground which is surrounded by a hedge. This plot of ground which varies in extent according to the size of the bungalow is known as the "compound." In the compound are situated besides the bungalow the houses for the native servants and the stables and other out-buildings. The kitchen is not attached to the house, as a rule, but is built in the compound quite close to the house. Some bungalows have also a garden attached to them which is looked after by the gardener or " moelee." This gentleman brings of to the house every morning a beautifully arranged basket of vegetables and a bunch of flowers. This is known as a " Pollee." In India the usual meals are, first—" Chota Hazaree," or little breakfast taken at about seven or eight in the morning. This usually consists of a slice or two of toast and a cup of tea or coffee. People usually have this brought to them whilst they are in bed by the "Kitmutgar " or waiter. About nine comes the second meal the "Hazaree proper" or breakfast. Usually after breakfast people take some
kind of fruit. It is the best plan to eat fruit in the morning and not at night as it may have injurious effects if partaken of at that time. The various kinds of fruit in India are very numerous. Some of them are indigenous and others are like those at home. Oranges are very common all over the country. Apples, however, can be procured only from Afghanistan, and all the countries to the north of India. Pears are very scarce and one very seldom comes across any. Peaches are to be got pretty abundantly. Melons too are very common and grow to a large size, particularly the water melon. Strawberries are grown only in the hill stations where the climate is not too warm. The other berry plants such as gooseberries, etc., are very rare. The Mango is one of the best native fruits. It has somewhat the shape of a pear on a larger scale and is thick at one end and tapers to a point at the other. The skins are tough and stringy, and Mangoes when ripe are of a bright or a pale yellow colour according to their size and quality. The Mango when in the young or green state is employed for making a delicious custard known as " Mango Fool." The ripe Mango is a very pleasant fruit, and is eaten by cutting a slice off the thick end and by sucking out the juice round the big stone in the centre. This juice if the mango is ripe, ought to be of a yellowish hue. Another very well known Indian fruit is the Banana. This fruit may sometimes be seen in the fruiterers' windows in this country. It grows in bunches and the plant on which it grows has large green shiny leaves. These leaves are often used by the natives on high occasions such as big feasts to serve the food on instead of dishes. The Custard.Apple is another native fruit. It is about as large as a good sized apple but differs considerably from that fruit. It has a rough outer skin and the interior of the fruit is full of seeds which are embedded among a delicious thick juice. This juice has a creamy colour and tastes very like custard whence comes the name. Another fruit is
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the "Guava." This fruit when raw has a very strong smell and a very peculiar taste. It is however largely manufactured into jelly. This jelly is made very stiff, and the fruit in this form tastes very nice. The jelly is sometimes boiled so firm and hard that it is known as " guava cheese." These are the best fruits. Let us now continue our description of the days. After breakfast comes " tiffien," or lunch, at two, and after lunch, dinner at seven or eight, In the afternoon, between four and five, the natives indulge in kite-flying contests. These are very i n terestingand often very exciting. The kites are usually made of coloured tissue-paper, and often are of a large size. The natives, however, have what are known as kite fights. These consist in entangling the twine of one man's kite with that of an adversary, and then reeling out twine until either one or other of the strings is worn away by the friction. As soon as one of the kites has been cut adrift, the crowd of onlookers start in pursuit of it. The person that succeeds in catching the kite keeps it as his own property. As soon as the kite has been cut away, the reeled-out twine naturally falls to the ground. Those who are standing near generally catch hold of the twine, and pull away as much as they can, and go off with it before the owner can get it wound in. Thus, the unfortunate owner of the kite generally goes home minus his kite, and a considerable portion of his twine. The twine, I may mention, is coated with a paste made of sand, ground glass, etc., to prevent it from being cut by the opponent's twine, which is coated in a like manner. In the afternoon there are often athletic sports, which are engaged in by the soldiers of the British regiment that happens to be quartered in the station. To these sports all the youth and beauty, and all the residents of the station, turn out. There are often very exciting contests, and sometimes the ancient pastime of " tilting at the ring" is engaged in. The prizes for this are generally silver brace-
lets or " bangles," which the winners usually present to the ladies on whose behalf they are tilting. If a native cavalry regiment happens to be resident, the members of it usually give an exhibition of tent pegging and lemon cutting. Another favourite pastime in the afternoons of the cold season is the " Gymkhana," or horse races. These races are usually run by the gentlemen in the station, on ponies, or " tats," as they are called. In the afternoon and evening there are usually badminton and tennis parties. During these, the band of the regiment plays, and enlivens the proceedings. After dusk, when it becomes too dark to play these games, the players and others betake themselves to dancing on a prepared platform in the open air. The band plays all the newest dance music, and it is a very pretty sight to see the dancers flitting about in the darkness, which is only enlightened by Chinese lanterns. This goes on till about nine, when the party breaks up. Cricket is also a favourite pastime, and occasionally very good matches are played by the clubs of various regiments. In these matches both officers and men take part, and very often there are some very good cricketers among them. Thus we see that life in India is a pretty pleasant one, despite the heat and other drawbacks. Though it may be rather slow and sleepy in the hot season, yet there are certain pleasures and relaxations which, as we have seen, tend to relieve the tedium and monotony.
Mr. Don and his Nephew. BY " DETECTIVE." WE were standing in Mr. Don's counting-house and talking in whispers. "£200," said I, "that's a large sum. Have you any notion of the thief?" " Not I," says Mr. Don. " Does the lock of the safe appear to have been picked ?" " No," said Mr. Don, " the safe appears to be just
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as I left it." " Is there anyone who has access and the shock which he had just received was to the safe except yourself?" "Yes, my 1 one of a very violent nature. Then I asked nephew." Well, I knew his nephew pretty him how he came to have the £10 note in his well. He was a nice kind of fellow, and I pocket. " Oh," said he, " I g:-.4 it from Christie, did not like to throw the blame on him. But, a friend of mine, who lives at the hotel over nevertheless, I continued—" Have you any the way." All at once he slapped his knee, suspicion of your nephew ?" Mr. Don frowned and jumping up from his seat, he cried— and said, "My nephew is not a thief." Mr. " Eureka! I have found the explanation now." Don did not believe him to be the thief; I I asked him to cool himself a little, and then did not believe him to be a thief; yet, asked what he had discovered. He took his £•200 had been stolen from Mr. Don's safe. breath for a few seconds, then said—" On This nephew had the only duplicate. Mr. Tuesday last (the robbery was discovered on Don knew all the numbers of the notes, Wednesday, wasn't it?) Christie came to me, which were each £10. When speaking to and asked for a key to open his Gladstone bag, Monk (Don's nephew) that day, I chanced and on the ring of keys which I gave him was to ask him for change for 10 sovereigns, the key of the safe." which were rather too heavy to carry about Well, I had arrived at the thief now, and I me. He pulled out his pocket-book, and thought that there was no time to be lost, first, immediately gave me—one of the stolen notes ! in ascertaining where the money was, and, I confess I was somewhat staggered, but I secondly, in getting possession of the robber. showed no outward sign of emotion. In a few hours after the discovery, I was When I had possessed myself of the note, I engaged as manservant, and arrayed in all the went immediately to Mr. Don's counting-house livery of office, at the hotel where Christie was in Fleet Street, and the same afternoon I was lodging. He had been out late the previous unwillingly made the bearer of a letter from night, and he was late in rising. - Mr. Don to his nephew. He took the message, I went into his room, and got his clothes to read it, turned a little pale, then recovered, brush. Of course, I had a good look at everyhimself, and read the letter aloud. It ran as thing in his pockets by the time I was done. follows : The only thing that attracted my attention was an - entry in his pocket-book—" Mem. 4 "Mr. Mtwx, I write you this to cut you off forever from across, 5 along." Immediately on taking my bounty and kindness. The money which you have breakfast, Christie went out to see a friend, taken I freely give you to start a new life. You need and I went into his room to dust it. As his offer no explanation ; I •leave undeniable proof of your guilt. I would be the last person in the world to take chests were both left open, it struck me that legal proceedings against you ; but, nevertheless, from this the missing notes would not be there, so I time forth, I entirely disown you. began to look about the room for some other Yours truly, place. They were not on the mantle-shelf, on C. DON." the—but a sudden thought struck me. I " What can it all mean ?" said Monk, when remembered the memorandum, and measured he had done. "' I have undeniable proof of out four feet across, and five along, on the caryour guilt,' this appears to me to me the great- peted floor. I felt at the place thus arrived at, est essence of nonsense." but I could find nothing. All at once I saw a And I sat down and taught him otherwise. small silk thread, of the colour of the carpet, It appeared that he did not even know of his protruding from the floor. I lifted up the uncle's robbery. I was very sorry for the carpet a little, pulled the thread, and the notes fellow, fur he was just beginning life's battle, lay before me. - -
15 That night, in Christie's room, I took him under my charge. Mr. Don and his nephew were reconciled, and the £200 restored to the proper owner. [THE END.]
L'Affaire d'Honneur. THE morn had but put on her mantle grey,
When, on a clearing in a little wood, Two men in armour ready for the fray, With glancing rapiers glittering upstood. One minute more and one of two renowned Would fall to earth, whose blood should stain the ground. The rapiers danced, displaying in the light Their vivid flashes, yet to no avail, For thrust and lunge (each gripped his rapier tight) Was warded off with dex'trous hand—both fail. Each leans against a tree for self support, Each wearied by the deadly fight they fought. Another round began the well-matched fray, Feint after feint was made, but all in vain ; But soon the victor was decided—nay-For one had tripped, and trying to regain His footing, broke his rapier, and he fell sad to tell— Upon the broken He died ; while o'er him bent his now best friend. Yea, he that was his enemy before, Now took his dying breath and saw his end ; And e'en the deer inhabit now no more The place whereon, in honourable fight, Had died that man by fate, but not by knight.
L. H.
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Just in Time. By " NoLL." CHAPTER I. WILSON GRANT was a rising young barrister. He had been entrusted with a case of great importance, relating to the ownership of an estate. An old gentleman named Mr. Lumley had died and left the fine estate of Rosecourt to Viola and Edith, his neices, who were orphans, and had been left to his care.
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Viola, the eldest, was a beautiful young lady of twenty, and Edith was three years younger. The will had been contested by a young scamp named George Lumley, on account of his being the son of the eldest brother of the father of the girls. This Lumley had long considered himself the heir of his uncle, and on that account had got deeply into debt, so that ho was now desperate at seeing the estate passing from his grasp. The ease of the girls was, however, very clear, and Wilson went down to Rosecourt a few days before (the day of the trial) the case came on in order to get the will, and to settle other matters. On entering a smoking compartment at Charing-Cross, he was followed by a young man who sat down opposite to him, and tried to open a conversation. Wilson, however, felt a strong feeling of dislike to him, and replied only in monosyllables. The young man had a very debauched and careworn appearance. His eyes were shifty, and never could look straight into Wilson's. This trait partly accounted for the feeling of dislike that Wilson felt. It was with a feeling of relief that Wilson stepped out at Woodington, from which Rosecourt was about two miles distant. His companion also got out here. Wilson was detained about half an honr in the village on business. Then having set out in the dog-cart that had been sent for him, on turning a corner, he came suddenly upon three men standing at a stile. Two of the men were of a low stamp, with a disreputable look about them. The third man Wilson, to his great astonishment, recognised as his late travelling companion. On passing them, Wilson asked the coachman who the gentleman was. The coachman replied—" That is young Mr. Lumley, the claimant to the estate." This information filled Wilson's mind with thoughts far from pleasant. What could be
16 Lumley's object there ? What could he have to do with men of that kind? Why had he wished so much to talk in the train ? These and other such questions he could not answer, but they were soon banished from his mind by his arrival at the pretty house of Rosecourt. The girls stayed there with their aunt. Mrs. Brown, a kind motherly creature, who acted as a mother to them. After securing the will in a pocket of his greatcoat, and settling his other business, Wilson yielded to their invitation, and spent the afternoon and early part of the evening with them. When the time came to go, two of them at least, Wilson and Viola, thought they had never passed so short an afternoon. Finding that he would need all his time to catch the 8.13 express, he rather hurridly bade them good-night, and departed. He preferred to walk, as it was such a fine moonlight night.. The road intersected the line a short distance on, and Wilson intended to get on the line, and thus save half a mile. As he approached this point his thoughts began to turn on young Lumley, and his singular appearance at the stile that day, when —all at once—he thought on the will. Where was it? He recollected that he had left it behind him in his greatcoat, and at once turned to go back for it. Just as he turned, a man slowly rose from the road side and asked, in a rough voice, what o'clock it was. Wilson stopped to pull out his watch, when he received a sudden blow from behind, which knocked him down. Stunned as he was, ho could offer no resistance, and in a few seconds his hands and feet were bound. He looked up. Three men were standing above him, whom he easily recognised as young Lumley and the two men he had been talking with at the stile. Lumley stooped down, tore open his coat, and seized the papers in his breast pocket with eagerness. He examined them by the light of the
moon, and—failing to find the will—he dashed them to the ground with an oath. He met with as little success in his search of the other pockets, and stood perfectly transfigured with rage at his failure. " Where is the will ?" cried he; in tones that shook with rage and excitement. " Where you will never find it." " Tell me at once, or you will be a dead man in a quarter of an hour." Wilson did not reply. "Will you tell me where the will is ?" screamed Lumley, almost beside himself with rage. " No !" " Very well ; lend a hand, boys." The three lifted up Wilson and carried him on to the line. In a few seconds he was firmly secured to a rail face downwards. It was evidently the intention of the ruffians to leave him to be run over. Wilson's blood ran cold at the thought, yet he was too proud to exhibit the least sign of fear. "For the last time, will you give up the will ?" " No !" " Then I bid you good-night," said Lumley, with a sardonic laugh; " the express will be here in fifteen minutes." The three villians left him, and as their receding footsteps grew fainter and fainter, and at last died out, Wilson's heart sank within, him. CHAPTER II. AT first Wilson lay quite stupified and scarcely thought at all. Soon, however, his mind began to reflect on his present situation, and, at the first thought of his terrible danger, he became frantic with fear. He strove with the might of a madman to burst his bonds, but they were too securely tied. He screamed aloud for help, but there was nobody to hear him. Again and again he attempted to free himself, until his strength was utterly exhausted, and lay as feeble as a
17 " Send it after him," said Edith, " there is littlexhild. He thought on the advancing train yet time." draw on, would come —how remorselessly it him. Mrs. Brown at once gave orders for John, nearer and nearer, and at last run over to harness the pony to the d:g-cart groom, He wondered if he would feel any pain. What the would Viola think of his death ? Would she and drive at once to the station. " Auntie, may I go with John ?" said Viola, be sorry? His mind wandered thus from point to point as he lay in a happy state of " I would like to see the train leave, and—" Here she turned aside to saver her blushes. semi-unconsciousness. " Well, well, child, but be quick," said kind But all at once he was aroused by a sound Brown, " John will take good care of you." Mrs. noise crashed the thunder, vow like distant a few minutes Viola was seated in the In a muffled only through the silent air, now with John, driving at the pony's hardphaeton sound was heard, now all was silent ; again they came in sight of the line, and Soon est. rushed forth the sound louder than ever—the saw, to their disappointment, that the train was train was approaching. Wilson again became frantic at the thought. coming. " We won't get there in time," said Viola. He struggled harder than ever, and tugged As she spoke, there burst on their ears a with his hands till the blood flowed from his of shouts and yells. succession 1 cried in and shrieked, laughed, wrists. He "What is that ?" cried Viola, shrinking In a quite near. turns. Now the sound was John. to closer minute or two all would be over. Now he John did not answer, but lashing the pony felt the rail quiver, and suddenly he saw the with all his might, urged it to a pace that it lights of the train in front. He watched them, fascinated as by a serpent. How he wished he had never gone at before. As it dashed up could run and meet the train. He wasn't alongside the line, he checked it, threw the afraid now. He yelled, shouted, and burst into reins to Viola, who sat half dazed with fear, pealsof maniacal laughter, and all became blank jumped out, and scrambled on to the line, took out his knife, and, as the train thundered past * * * * * with a mighty roar, rolled off the rail the course of For a little we must follow the body of Wilson. inanimate events at Rosecourt. Viola, after Wilson left, * * * * * wandered in the garden, full of sweet and where to Rosecourt, taken Wilson was happy thoughts. She wondered when she would see Wilson again. How he pressed her he lay for many weeks between life and hand on leaving. How he looked into her death with brain fever. At last he was proeyes, right down into her heart, as she thought. nounced out of danger, and soon began to get With these and other thoughts she walked well, nursed, it is needless to tell by whom. about for a while, and then entered the house. -Lumley escaped to America, where he is now The first thing she observed was Wilson's living a profligate life. John is now the groom of Mr. and Mrs. Grant, and has never yet had greatcoat. "Oh, auntie, Mr. Grant has left his over- cause to repent that he was "just in time." coat," she cried. " So he has, to be sure. Well, I suppose it Cricket. dosn't matter, it can—" The office-bearers for the past season of 1885 were :— " But it does matter; the will is in one of lion. Captain—A. V. LOTHIAN, ESQ. the pockets—I saw him put it in." Captain—B. HARVEY. " Oh, dear, what is to be done ?" cried Mrs. Hon. Sec. and Treas.—A. F. FINDLAY. Committee—A. L. COBBAN, C. G. FOGG°, A. MITCHELL. Brown.
18 THIS last season has been, without doubt, the worst we have had for a very long time. Out of 14 regular matches on the list, 10 were played, of which one was won, one was a tie, one a draw, while seven were lost. The solitary win was obtained against Chanonry School C.C. by five wickets and 49 runs. The match was played, as usual, on May 25th, the Queen's birthday, at the 'Shire Grounds. We, of course, were quite sure of victory, and, perhaps as a natural consequence, very nearly lost the match. The " Gym" winning the toss, went in, and scored the modest total of 37, of which Stables had 14. Indeed, had it not been for Stables, who stuck in most of the time, we might have had the whole lot out in half an hour. At this point out prospects were very bright, and we were quite certain that we would make at least double our opponents' score. But, alas ! that same over-confidence which lost the match for us last year, nearly did so again. In a very few minutes eight of our best men were out for 19 runs, chiefly owing to Boyd's bowling. By this time we had given up all hope of winning, when, MacDonald and Scott getting together, at once settled down to work, and by splendid, though unexpected, play, on the part of both, completely changed the aspect of affairs. The " Gym" score was soon topped, and when Scott was got out, the total was at 52. Macdonald carried his bat, the innings closing for 57. The following are the scores for the first innings: CHANONRY SCHOOL.
A. Monro, lbw, b Hay, ... A. Stables, c Cobban, b Davie, ... J. D. Forrester, c Hay, b Davie, ... A. D. Milne, b Davie,... W. Miller, b Davie, ... W. B. Craigie, c Davie, b Roberts,... P. F. Milligan, b Harvey, ... IL Ferguson, b Roberts....... R. Croft, c Findlay, b Harvey, ••• R. Taylor, not out, ... 64.
••• ..• ...
••• ••• ••• ••• ••• ••• •• •
3 14 3 2 1 7 0 0 0 5
H. C. Boyd, c Harvey, b Roberts, ... Extras, •••
Total,
•••
•••
•••
.. ••• ••• ' GRAMMAR SCHOOL. A. L. Cobban, b Craigie, A. Mitchell, c Miller, b Boyd, B. Harvey, c Taylor, b Craigie, ••• J. H. M. Davie, b Boyd, ... ••• A. F. Findlay, b Boyd, ... R. Hay, c Stables, b Boyd, ... D. G. Roberts, c Stables, b Boyd, ••• R. C. McDonald, not out, ... ••• C. G. Cowie, b Boyd, ... . J. M. Scott, c and b Manro,... C. G. Foggo, b Boyd,... ••• ••• Extras, ••• .. ••• • • •
.•.
0 2
...
37
• .• • •••
2 0 5 6 0
•••
0
•••
Total,
..•
•••
•••
• .•
•••
••.
•••
...
2 21 0 17 2 2 57
In the second innings, nothing of any moment occurred, as, by this time, it was a foregone conclusion that we would win. The " Gym " made 51, of which Ferguson had 18 not out. The Grammar then went in, and played out time, winning easily by five wickets and 49 runs. The scores for the second innings are :— CHANONRY SCHOOL.
Stables, c Hay, b Foggo, Munro, b Hay,... Forrester, c Mitchell, b Foggo, Milne, c Harvey, b Hay, ... Miller, b Hay, ... Craigie, b Roberts, . Taylor, c Roberts, b Hay, ... Ferguson, not out, ... Milligan, lbw, b Roberts, ... Croft, c Cobban, b Roberts, ... Boyd, c Harvey, b Davie, ... Extras, ... ••• ••• Total,
•••
•• •
•.•
•••
..• ••• ••. .• . • •. • .• .• • • .• •••
••.
5
•• •
3
4•4
3
•• •
6
•
i
•
4
0 •• •
18
•• .
0
•••
• •. ••. .••
5 1 5
• .•
...
51
GRAMMAR SCHOOL.
Mitchell, c Croft, McDonald, run out, .•. Scott, b Croft, Davie, b Croft,... . Hay, not out, ... ... Harvey, b Taylor, Findlay, not out, Roberts, Cobban,... Foggo, ••• Cowie, ... Extras, •••
.• ,
— . ••• -•
• •. ••• ••• ••• -
• ••
•• •
••••
• 4 •
•• •
4 0
• • •
• • •
Total for 5 wickets,
•••
• •
•••
23 5 8 5 16 7 14
to bat. •••
2
...
80
19 The return match with the 'Shire ended in a tie, each side scoring 85 runs. The match, " Combined Schools v. 'Shire," was drawn. Scores--Schools, 101 ; 'Shire, 88 for eight wickets. The losses were :1. Bon-Accord C.C., by 4 runs. 2. Aberdeenshire C.C., by 1 wicket and 102 runs. 3. King's College C.C., by 14 runs. 4. Britannia C.C., by 11 runs. 5. Combined Schools v. King's College C.C., by 6 runs. 6. Grammar School (Old Aberdeen), by 24 runs. 7. R. L. Asylum C.C., by an innings and 2 runs.
This disheartening result may be traced to two main causes, viz. :—(1) Bad grounds for practice ; (2) Want of proper practice for the " eleven." 1. GROUNDS.-It must strike anyone, on entering the field, that it is in a most unsuitable state for cricket. The ground, which during the summer was mostly bare, was almost as hard as stone, with grass growing here and there in clumps—a striking contrast to its state in the good old times, when the field belonged to the cricket club. Then, the field was kept in better order even than the 'Shire grounds, and none but members of the club were allowed to get in, except on rare occasions. Now, it has been taken over by the School Board, and has been allowed to get into a scandalous state. So notorious has this state grown, that one of the papers describes the field as " that awful ground of theirs." A word of praise is due to the Rector for his energetic and persistent efforts to have this put right, and it is solely owing to his influence that the turf was put into the field. The turf, however, through not being rightly laid, or by some other defect, has proved worse than useless. It is now rumoured, however, that the School Board are, at last, to look into the matter. 2. PRACTICE.—The system of practice here is one of the most absurd ever seen. One might as well suppose that " punting" a football is practice for the game of football, as that " scranning " is practice for cricket. This "scranning" is an adaptation of cricket in
which every one tries his hardest to put his neighbour out, and to get in to bat himself. Just fancy about thirty fellows standing close round the pitch, a couple batting, four or five at each end bowling, and there you have all the practice to be got here. This is all very well for amusement, but it does more harm to the team than even the bad grounds do. Even for a good bat the system is bad, as there is no opportunity of judging where to place one's hits, when everybody is standing close, so that the tendency is to become either a " swipe," or one of the " barndoor " species. The bowling also is affected, as there is no scope for scientific bowling, which requires careful practice. The chief aim of most of our bowlers seems to be to " peg in " as many " dead-on " balls as possible, with little or no regard for pitch. The fielding too, of course, is utterly demoralized, and that feeling of union and self reliance, which alone can inspire confidence into the members of the team, is destroyed. It is true we had net practice about half a dozen times, but that did little or no good. What we want is to have a side at least once a week, at which the "eleven" must attend, and at which much stricter discipline shall be enforced. BArrnia.—After what has been written above, nothing great can be looked for in this direction. The batting has been, as a whole, very poor and inconsistent. The following table shows the averages :— Name.
Innings Played.
Highest Total Runs Scored. Average. Score.
11 4 A. Barclay, 17 6 J. M. Scott, 17* 10 C. G. Cowie, 7 3 B. Harvey, 16* 5 R. W. L. Hay, 23 11 A. Mitchell, 21* R. C. McDonald, 6 17 9 J. H. M. Davie, 10 5 D. G. Roberts, 14* 10 A. F. Findlay, 5 7 J. A. Davie, 5 3 W. Key, 4 3 W. R. Watt, 2 6 A. L. Cobban, * Not out.
21 26 53 19 30 65 26 45 23 37 11 8 3 2
7 6I 6.4 6.3 6 5.9 5.2 5 4.6 4'1 3.6 2.6 '75
•3
20 J. W. Rose and C. G. Foggo played in two matches. A. McD. Younie, C. E. Boggie, T. J. Bonner, A. Baxter, and J. B. Jobberns played each in one match. It will be seen that A. Barclay has the highest average, Scott the second, and Cowie the third. Cowie's average is, however, really the most serviceable, as will be observed on closer inspection, as he has played in more matches, and made more runs, than either of the other two. Cowie played well in the latter half of the season, especially in the Asylum match. R. Hay also was of great service during the part of the season that he was at school. J. H. M. Davie played in nine matches, and scored 45 runs. He was one of our best bats. A. F. Findlay, too, rendered good service, but was rather unfortunate. It would be unfair not to mention A. L. Cobban, since his average has been given. Although his average is so poor, yet it must be remembered that he had to bear the brunt of nearly every match, and did good service by breaking the bowling by his steady play. He has also been very unfortunate, having been run out no less than three times. BOWLING.—The following are the bowling averages :1. J. A. Davie bowled in 5 matches average No. oft 4,5 runs per wkt., $ 2. R. W. L. Hay „ 5 „ 6.5 2f 3. D. G. Roberts „ 3 „ 61 ff 4. J. H. M. Davie „ 5 „ ” 10 5. A. Mitchell „ 4 „ 10.5 f9 6. B. Harvey 16 3 ft 1,
been simply disgraceful. The number of " muffs " made would form a pretty big number if a record of them had been kept, and it is no exaggeration to state that at least one-fourth of the runs obtained by our opponents might have been saved by good fielding. On no occasion was our weakness in this respect more apparent than in the 'Shire match (return). Both sides scored 85, and J. Williams had 45 not out, for the 'Shire. In the course of his innings, Williams was "mulled" twice; so that, had our fielding been good, we must dounubtedly have won the match. Perhaps, if a presentation belt or cap were offered to the best fielder, the team might be stimulated to work harder in this direction. Findlay proved a sharp field at cover-point, and McDonald at long-stop was very efficient. Cowie, also, in the long-field was very useful, both by his sure catching and by his quick returns. FUNDS.-Our monetary affairs are in no way more prosperous than the rest of the club matters. That debt of several pounds which has been kindly bequeathed to us by our " Old Boys," is still unpaid. As we have no more money than suffices for current expenses, an appeal ought to be made to those who contracted the debt, to settle it. This is but just, and surely the " Old Boys " will think shame to see this debt hanging over the club any longer. B.A.T.
fl
A. F. Findlay, W. Key, C. G. Foggo, W. K. Watt, and G G. Cowie, each bowled in two matches. A. MeD. Younie, T. J. Bonner, and A. Barclay, each bowled in one match. J. A. Davie has proved himself by far our best bowler. His fast delivery was usually very effective, and always unpunishable. R. Hay's slow bowling was also of great service.. W. Key, as a medium bowler, promises well for next year. FIELDING.—The fielding of the team this season has not been anything like up to the mark ; in fact, with a few exceptions, it has
Grammar School Library. AT the second meeting of the Debating Society, the former Librarian and Assistant Librarian were unanimously re-elected, and a new Committee was appointed. Mr. C. G. Cowie was chosen as representative of the III. Classical, Mr. A. Cruickshank of the II. Classical, and Mr. G. Mason of the Moderns. This Committee has been so energetic that, as previously intimated, the Library will be opened on the
21 •
26th of this month. Although it would be out large number will take advantage of this of place to give here a budget of our expenses opportunity for cultivating knowledge, at the and receipts, I may not inappropriately remark moderate cost of one shilling per annum. If that we are laid under great obligations by the such be the case, the Committee will feel it has ready and liberal start afibrded by the Rector been successful in a very useful work and that and the Masters, as also by the School Board's all its endeavours have not been in vain. I take this opportunity of thanking my handsome donation of £5, from Mr. Dun's beMr. Jobberns, for the hearty manner colleague, quest. The books which are now in the Library in which he has co-operated with me, and the amount to between 130 and 140. The cata- Committee which has, while supporting the logues are in the hands of the printers, and will new essay for the improvement of the school, be ready in a few days. The Committee has displayed a spirit of generosity and patriotism resolved to admit as subscribers, members of never to be forgotten. the Upper School only, until the number of W. MESTON, Librarian. books will permit of the Middle School's being that a hoped allowed to join. It is, however, ftotiCC to iCorroponbents. All Communications to be written on one side only. The Ed rs do not undertake to return rejected Communications. Letters arillie Editor on subjects affecting the School will be gladly received.
-
JOHN ADAM, Generigl uii E'Oucationtil 3,00ksell e r AND STATIONER,
7 13 Til)I01) No4 tfve
anew atA &too% in gown of
OfkEIGN AND JLASSICAL POOKS. f He continues 1o mipptij, Otew an? 8econ?-4xna koolto aC ate C.'.owet &loco.
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H AT 34 and 46 UNION STREET, ABERDEEN (Successor to SAMUEL MARTIN) Would respectfully intimate the arrival of all the Leading Novelties in the Trade. Always in Stock a great variety of Football Jerseys, Hose, Belts. Cowls, and Shin Guards. TROPHY AND CLUB CAPS MADE TO ORDER. Boating Jerseys, Caps. and Belts ; Gymnastic Jerseys and Belts ; Cricket Sweaters. Caps, and Belts; Bicycle Caps and Gloves. For SUMMER Straw Hats with Club bands, New Patterns ; Ties, Gloves, Collars. &c., &c. Ladies' and Gentlemen's Opera Hats, Umbrellas, Travellers' Bags. Knapsacks, Hat Cases, Collar Boxes, Clerical Band Cases. Leather Garters, Coat and Rug Straps. SPECIAL AND ODD HATS MADE TO ORDER.
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J, RILEY 33 ABBEY STREET, Accrington. PRICE LIST of Cricket Material by different Manufacturers. FULL CANE WARRANTED BATS, . 9'6, 11/6, 12/6, and 1416. BATTING GLOVES, 5/6, 6/6, 7, and 8/. do. HALF CANE do. . . 4/, 6/6, 9/6 1016. 7/, 716, and 8/6. STUMPS, do. .. Youths' FULL CANE, ... . 71. SPIKES, . . . . I/ per Set. HALF do. do. Do. . . . SCORING SHEETS, . . 6/. I/ per Doz. Superior CATGUT SEWN TREBLE SEAMED MATCH BALLS 5/. 8/6, 12/6, and '3/6. CRICKET BAGS Best TREBLE SEAMED MATCH BALLS, . . 4/ and 4/7. Do. NETS ,rom '5/6. . COMPOSITION BALLS, Do. TENTS, 2/9 from £3. LEG GUARDS, Superior, . . . 5/5, 6/6..8/6, 10/6. . BELTS, CAPS, . . from I/. SUPERIOR GAUNTLETS, . . . . 5/6, 6/6, and 8/6. FOOTBALL, TENNIS RACKETS, GOLF CLUBS, and Material for Games of all descriptions.
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LIST
C 0.5S+
OF
CRICKETING MATERIALS) MANUFACTURED BY
LILLYWHITE, COBBET, DUKE, PAGE, ASHTON and other London Makers. Best CANE-HANDLED BATS, ... GAUNTLETS, 10/6, 12'6, 15', 21'. BATTING GLOVES, HALF do. do., 7,'6, 10/6, 12,6, I5,. CRICKET STUMPS, Best MATCH, ... ... 7 6, 8/ 6, 10,6. Boys' do., ••• Youths' DOVETAIL HANDLE BATS. ... 5/. SPIKES, .. Boys' BATS, ... 2/6, 3/. SCORING SHEETS, Best TREBLE-SEAM BALLS, 5 6, 6 6, 7/6, Do. BOOKS, COMPOSITION BALLS, .. 2 6, 3 6, 4 6. BOXING GLOVES, RUBBER BALLS, .. FENCING FOILS, ... 6d., 1/. Best LEG—GUARDS, 8/6, 10/6, 12/6. GOLF CLUBS. CLEEKS, BALLS, &c.
...
8 6, 10,6.
8 6, 10;6. 7„6, 8 6, 10/6, 12/6. ... 2 6, 3 6, 5/, 6/6, 1 6 per Set. 1, Per Dozen. I,'6, 2 , 2,6, 5,', 7:6. 8/6, 10, 6, I2,'6, 17/6 Set. 6 6, 8 6, 10'6 Pair.
• ••
Orders from Country Clubs attended to, and Discount allowed.