Chris of All-Sorts.

Auckland Star, Volume XXXIV, Issue 110, 9 May 1903, Page 3 (Supplement)

Chris of All-Sorts.

CHAPTER XV.

A MOBAL CRIPPLE

There is in thee a notion but Infected, •* poor unmanly, melancholy spring. Prom change of fortune. _"Hmon of Athens," Act IV., sc. 3.

Admiral Sir John Chandos dined if it evening as usual ■with Lady Barbara, and as U3ual played eribbage with her after pinner. The old gentleihan apologised {0 Chris for leaving her to herself, and fltmld have been glad to have been exjused the inevitable game of cards for a conversation with the girl who showed dOßsideration for his infirmity and interest in his stories, but Lady Barbara ffould not permit it. She demanded her cribbage, and told him that Chris was tired and desired rest. So Chris sat back in the shade on a w fa and mused, her musing hardly interrupted by the exclamations and occasional wrangles of the players. She thought of her downy bed, and contrasted it with the dirty blankets, the hard mattresses, with the straw bursting from them, in No. 8, Queer-street. She looked round at the clean, sweet draw; jng-room, and then pictured to herself the chamber so foul with its unwholesome atmosphere, that served as a kitchen, sitting-room, and sleeping apartment to a whole family; in which lived that young man slanting to his grave, and that girl Briee, whom he would grapple End bring down the slope with him. The girl interested her. Eough and wild she night be, but there was some good in her. Yet how long woulcl that good remain in the midst of such depraving associations? Would it not be smothered ly the foulness around, and she become »3 hardened as the worst about her? Aiiithat young man, dying by inches, without conscience, without sense of duty, without ambition, with no idea, no iope. And here were, before her, these old cribbage players, night after night, end she herself drawing, novel reading, night after night whilst their brothers and sisters, children of the one great liranan family, fellow citizens in the grand kingdom of Britain, were sinking, jinking, sinking.

It was as though a tempest were raging without, and ships were -wrecked, and the shrieks of the drowning rang in the air, and they—the comfortable —sat closer over their fires and stirred no finger to help those that perished. j Ulysses put wool into the ears of his i mariners that they might not row to the Isle of Cince, allured by their strains. But these, the moneyed, the self-indulg-ed, stuffed their ears and sailed by, unlilling to hear the cries of such as ware being engulfed in the fetid slime of moral and social corruption that was bo sear. The firet recorded query ever pnt by man was, "Am I my brother's keeper?" and with this same question md a shrug of the shoulders the man with money in his pocket will go on his way till the end of time. In the old Eoman world the wealth tnd well-doing crowded to the Colosseum, to laugh and applaud as men fought and tore each other and poured forth their blood and died. We have made a great advance in civilization. Now we turn our backs on the battle of life and the effusion of blood. Nevertheless, there is a deep well of pity in the English heart, never exhausted, alWays ready to flow. There are wealthy merchants and noble ladies prepared to make sacrifice of money to relieve suffering, but between them and the necessitous stands the great throng of middlemen and middle-women, who prey on their benefactions, filling their own pitchers and allowing only the overflow to run down the gutter to be scooped up in eggBhellg by the thirsty. The organisation of Charity consumes the Charity, and gives only ashes and smoke Chris had been in France, and had seen there hospitals, almshouses, asylums, orphanages, schools, earned on,by devoted

wen and women, who took from the I funds supplied sufficient only to give ■ them one suit of clothes per annum, and I furnish them with the plainest food, and not receive one single sou for all their labours; but then, as Martha said, they served under the One Master. Here, in ■ England, there were as well devoted men and women, full of zeal- But the givers ': mistrusted them, and put all tneir confidence in the parasites of Oharity who fed and fattened on their donations and subscriptions. This was not all that worked in the mind of Chris. She thought of Roger Fenton, and the blow that had prostrated his hopes. He was Bow on his way to the Cape-, and there niight meet his death like so many other gallant soldiers of the Queen who had gone forth to maintain the honour of the flag.

Brave he was, and would not shrink from his duty, that she knew full well. ■j£at he had good abilities wae certain. That he would distinguish himself was heyond doubt. That, if he did return, it Would be laden with honours, hardly admitted of question. And then! —would the misunderstanding "bo. afc an end? Next day was Sunday, and in the horning Chris went to iLe Abbey. As ehelooked about her at the large congregation she saw that it was wholly eompoeed of the well-dressed. To the west ?f the Church lay a teeming population to alums as bad as any in the East of j •London; but not a single poor man or shabby woman was present in the Abbey at Divine service. Verily it i» the genteel J*ho get their religion cheaply through the benefactions of the past, intended for the poor, but diverted to the relief of the Pockets of the well-to-do. .In the afternoon Chris put a bottle of cod-liver oil, and another of sherry, into * hand-bag, and started for Queer street. She found he? way there without diffiJ]%. The streets were quieter than ■ j*ey had been on Saturday afternoon. In vueer street, as elsewhere, the people loolced cleaner, and were better dressed, "they did not go to a place of worship, lile y. at all events, recojsrmsed the day J* one. on whiek to wash their face, comb »»eir hair, and assume their best apWhen Chris entered No. 8 she found 4' there, and the fire burning: bis sis**Lwag not within. , "he produced the bottles and explained w> Mm how he was to take the draught.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

By S, BAEING-GOULD, Author «f "MEHALAH," "JOHN HERBJNG," Etc.

She had brought with her a wme-glass bowl, of which the stem was broken.

"All right, I'll take it, But, look 'ere, it won't do for father or the old woman to see the sherry wine, or they'll 'aye it down their throats in 'arf a wink. I'll stow it under the coals."

He had hardly done as proposed before in came a man of about forty-five and a slatternly woman.

'•'There's my father," said Cecil. "Father, this is the young lady as Brice spoke about. She's brought me cod liver hoyl for my cold."

"Very glad to make your acqtiaintance, Miss," said the man, and the woman dropped a bob, intended as a curtsey. He wore a broken look, through intemperance. There was in him an appearance of faded gentility, and his speech was less vulgar than that of his children. '"'Will yoix take a chair? Sorry the surroundings are so poor. But times are bad, and the world has used me cruelly. I'm of good birth and genteel belongings, but I've been beaten down by adversity. I'm ever on the wnarf looking out for my ship, and never seeing it in the offing. Let me introduce Mrs. Gograni, my 'ousekeeper, a very respectable person, been in 'igh society, was cook once in a wholesale ironmongery. She's come down like me, through no fault of her own. A motherly body as looks after the lodging and the children."

"Glad to know you, sir," said Chris — she ignored the woman. "Your daughter rendered me a great service." "And 'ow so, if I may make bold to ask. She ought to 'aye mentioned it. Did she say anything , to you, Mrs. Gogram?" "I lost my watch, and she recovered it for me. It had belonged to my mother, who is dead." "Ah!" said the man, Tve lost my mother, too, and my legs is all of J a tremble ever since."

"I've lost mine also," threw in the woman, "and my eyes 'aye run over like biling kettles ever since." "She's a very feelin' woman, and a tip-topper in respectability, ,, put in the man.

"Shut up, guvnor, with old Gog's respectability. The young lidy knows what to think of that as well as me and Brice," was the youth's exclamation.

"But the wust was," continued the father, ignoring, his son's interjection, "when my wife ran away and left me. Whatever can have mide her do it, I can't think. Me —a gentleman born, and the childer, too. I've never been the same man since. Ido think if I 'ad a little port wine it might do me good. What say you, Mrs Gogram?" "It's the very thing to pull you up." "I 'ope," said the man, with an air of dignity, "As you have been to a place of worship this morning, Mrs Gogram?' , "Which I J ave, and gave away my small cash in the horfertory." "Gammon, , * threw in the youth, "you won't get the laidy to think that. Hook it, Gogs, and find Brice, it's she that the laidy wants, not you." Grumbling, the woman obeyed. "I was a gentleman once," said the man, "and I'm a gentleman still. I 'aye my little income, and need not work." "Then why live here? Go where better housed." He shook his head. "Can't do it. The money comes to me by post, and I don't know from whom, and soccartn r t send and announce a chinge of address."

"There's' Brice," said the woman, Gogram, thrusting her head in, "sparrin' with the young chaps out in the street."

"I will go and speak to her," said Chris, and left the room.

CHAPTER XVI

BOUTFLOWER AGAIN.

There Is small choice In rotten apples. —''Taming the Shrew," Act I. sc. 2,

Christine went forth into the street, and saw what was not an unusual occurrence there, a romp in which young men and girls were engaged. Briee was struggling with a couple of youths who were chaffing her, and she retaliated in the same strain. One of the lads had his arm round the girl's waist, and was attempting to kiss her, whilst another endeavoured to hold her arms. But Brice was too strong for them, and she caught one a stinging box on the ear, and knocked his Sunday hat into the gutter. She kicked vigorously at the shins of his assistant, till he disengaged her.

At the same moment she caught sight of Chris and flushed scarlet at the recognition.

She went up to her, and said: "Them young chaps i 3 blackguards. I could not 'elp it. But I've combed their 'cads for 'em."

"Brice," asked Chris, "What was that they said when you knocked off one of their hats?"

"Ain't going to tell you, , ' retorted the girl. "'Twasn't fit for your ears."

"But —I do not mean precisely that What name did they give you?"

"Brice, of course, that's my name." "But one of them called you by an other."

"Well, yes, he called me Boutflower, which I be. So's all of us, father and Cecil, except mother Gogs, Sorry you seed them fellows larkin', but if you come into Queer-street, you must expect queer goings on."

"Can we go somewhere together, that we may have a talk?"

"If yer goin , to rag me for larkin' with the boys, I won't go."

"No, Brice, I have something to say about Cecil, and your father."

."There'3 a bit of garding in Crooke's Square, and if it ain't runnin' over with children we can go there. But what is it all about?"

"I will tell you when we are there. Meanwhile let me inform you that 1 have seen your father." "He ain't much to look at," rem?rked Brice. "He's just an old drunken swine." "That's not a very respectful way of speaking of your father." "Can't respect one 'as ain't respectable. Bless your eyes, if it weren't for the red 'ot poker, I'd never 'aye got no rent out of him." "What do you mean? , "Why look 'ere. He don't do no work, but mokea about from one. public to another. I'm at the factory all day,

and when post brings his allowance, he is there to get the horder cashed. Bust my stays if he wouldn't 'aye the lot down 'is throat if I did not go after 'im with the poker. Once I drove 'im under the bed, afore he'd shell out the sixteen shilHnga. He's afraid of the poker now. He burnt 'is 'and with it once, terrible bad, and 'owever fresh he may be remembers that and cuts away from the poker whether 'ot or cold. So I mostly gets the rent out of 'im now, and the rest, that's six bob, goes in drink between 'im and Mother Gogs." Together Chris and Brice reached the little square of Crookc —a dreary •γ-oid space, with some sickly trees in it, with ink black trunks. There were many children in it playingj but they secured a seat. Briee planted herself on one and said abruptly: "Spit it out." "It is this," said Christine. "I was very much astonished when I heard that your name was Boutflower, for I happen to have met with that name before." "I don't see why not. I s'pose there are plenty of Bo;vtflower3 as there are Smiths."

"But the surname is uncommon. Can you tell me anything about your grandfather V

"Blessed if I know. It's enough to be afflicted with a father, without being plagued with a grandfather as well."

"Do you not know anything about him?"

"Father always says that he was a gentleman; but* I never heed what he

says, he is such a liar, and is given to brag."

"Do you chance to know where your father lived before he came here?" asked Chris.

*Yes, Ido know that. He 'ad a tobacconist's shop in 'Olloway. B\it he didn't look after it, and mother 'ad 'er 'igh notions, as father 'ad 'is low ones, and so between 'em, it went smash, and we cime 'ere, and then mother went off, as I told you once before.' 5

"That is all you can relate?" "Yes. Father may know more." "And, Brice, how is it about the allowance? Who makes that to him?"

The girl whistled. "I've my notion, but I know nothing for eortain. All that I can sye is that it comes every month, somewhere about the beginning, in a postal order for thirty shillings. And it began to come after mother ran away. It may be, she is a bit shamed it what she '.as done and sends this to the governor to mike peace. It may be it comes from the bloke as , she went off with, as a bit of mike up. I can't sye." "Do you know where your mother Is?" Briee shrugged her shoulder.?. "'Tisn't much I care. I 'aye seen the postmark on the henvelopes, but I never gave heed to read it. But what about Cecil?"

"It is this. lam not easy about him. •He needs a change of air and scene. He should go into the country. You have been into the country, I suppose."

"Yes, I was there one Bank 'oliday: never knowed afore where the shrimps grew."

"What do you mean?" "I saw a whole field of 'em growin', thick as the 'airs on mv 'cad."

"Surely not. They come out of the sea."

"Not they. I seed 'em grown on stalks. They weren't red but yaller. But they turn red when boiled."

Chris thought for a moment, and then laughed outright.

"Why, Briee, what you saw was a barley field."

<: I don't know nothing about barley; but it was mighty like shrimps." "Do you suppose it would be possible to persuade Cecil to go into the country to study shrimps? That is, if I were able to find a hospital or a convalescent home out of town that would receive him?"

"I don't know. He's town born and bred, and whatever he'd do in the country caps me. He'd feel dull there." "But if it were for his health?" Brice shook her head.

"Well," said Cliris, "I cannot be sure of being able to find such an institution. We mu3t let it stand over for a while, and you sound him on the point. And now —run back to Queer-street and find out from your father what was the Christian name and profession of your grandfather. I will await you here."

Iβ a quarter of an hour Briee returned with the information desired.

Then Chris went back to Cumberland Mansions.

Whei> 'iinner was over, she said to Sir John Chandos. "Will you sit on the sofa by me —I want to Lave a little talk with you." With alacrity the Admiral took the place offered him. "What do you want with him?" asked Lady Barbara, not over pleased at the Admiral being drawn away from herself. "I want, auntie, to have some talk with him concerning the Boutflowers." "If you will —I shall go upstairs and write a line to Laura." When the old lady had withdrawn, the girl turned to Sir John and said: "Now tell me, what was your friend Boutflower's Christian name?" "It was an odd one, Archimedes, but nothing to that of his wife. Her name was Briseis, called after a lovely captive who set Achillea and Agamemnon by the ears- I thank ray god-parents that I was christened plain John." "I am convinced that I have lighted on his son and grandchildren." . "The son was no credit to the name, and broke hia father's heart/ "But the grandchildren." "l never met them." "Sir John, the family is in wretched circumstances. The grandson, whose name is Cecil, is in a decline, and living with his father and sister in one room, infecting it with the poison of phthsis. It will kill the girl—she is called Briseis. Will you do something to help them?" '•The son was a bad fellow." "But I am thinking of the grandchildren. Surely, Sir John, if you loved the Captain, you will do something, a little, to get the sick lad separated from his sister, before she is infected." The Admiral rubbed his chin. "Miss Lavenham, I cannot refuse, for dear old Boutflower's sake. Put me down for fifty pounds." "No, Sir John, I want more than that. I want your active co-operation. You must find me a place where to put Cecil Boutflower."

Again he rubbed his chin. c " Ton my word, Miss Lavenham, I did love Captain Eoutflower—one of the best fellows that ever breathed, and the smartest naval officer that ever trod the quarter-deck. A sad thing that one like him should be crushed by a vain, frivolous, and unprincipled wife. I will do what you desire, and am glad I have the means of complying with your wishes. I have a little box on the South Downs. He shall go down there; and mv caretakers, worthy souls, will attend to him/

<4 You are the dearest old man I know."

"Ah! Miss Lavenham, what with your persuasive tongue and my recollections of Boutflower I could do no other."

"Now, then," said Lady Barbara, entering the room, "if you have done With Boutflower, I will have a little talk with you."

CHAPTER XVII, SIR JOHN CHANDOS. Tro. What's aught bnt as 'tis valued? Hect. But value dwells not in particular will It holds his estimate and dignity As well whei-ein 'tis precious of itaelf. As iv the prizes. "Troil and Cresid.," Act 11., sc. 2.

Cliristine was not one to allow the grass to grow under her feet. On the ensuing Monday she induced the Admiral to accompany her to the East End., there to meet the grancJson or nis old friend, Captain Archimedes Boutflower. IVot without misgivings did she propose this. She v/as hot confident as to the result. Kags and wretchedness are picturesque in the etchings of Callot, but repellanfc in activity. That is why with so many compassion leads to a cheque, but not to personal acquaintance with the objects of pity. Would an introduction to the squalor of No. 8, Queer-street cause a revulsion in the mind of Sir John, and chill down his awakened sympathy? Whatever the consequences might be, it was the fight step to take, and Chris was one of those who was prepared to do what she held to bo right, and allow the consequences to take care of themselves. She purposed bringing her old friend face to, face with the descendants of his comrade whose memory he cherished, and to leave him to follow his own course with them.

The Admiral heard'better, when in the street with the roar of vehicles forming a drone, than he did in a roxwn, and he and Christine were able to converse with ease on their way East.

When Bishopsgate-strec-t was passed, Uhris conducted him through a tangle of mean thoroughfares beyond.

"My dear Miss Lavenham," said he; "do you mean to tell me that you explored this labyrinth alone? Why did you not ask me at the outset to accompany you? I would have been proud to have acted as your guide and protector."

"Sir John, when first I came here 1 was unaware that it was a maze in which I might lose my way, but now that 1 have threaded it, I am the guide, and you must trust to me. I hold the clue."

Presently they reached Queer-street, and Chris entered the house, followed by Sir John. Happily, as she saw, Mrs Gogram was at the upper end of the street, engaged in altercation with another woman, and with her back turned to her, so that she did not perceive the arrival of visitors.

Within was only the unfortunate crouched over a fire. He looked up and gave a jerk of the chin in recognition, but without thought of rising and troubling himself to tender a more gracious salutation.

"Here, Cecil," said Chris cheerily. "1 have brought you a friend —Admiral v...andos, a very old acquaintance of your grandfather. They were together on many a cruise, and he desires to have a 'chat with you."

"All right," said the young man. "There's only one cheer. One of you can sit on the bed."

"JN'o, tlvank you," was Chris's hasty rejoiner, "I must bo off, I am going to see my cousin in the Bulawayo Parsonage, and I shall leave the Admiral with you. Perhaps, Sir John, when you have done, you will come and fetch me." "My dear young lady, I shall not have done for some time. Can you wait for me till—perhaps late in the afternoon?" "1 will wait as long as you like. 1 shall lurch with my cousin." "And/- , said Sir John; "I trust Mr JBoutflower will do me the honour of lunching with me." "Very well. Good-bye, Cecil, remember me'to Brice."' Then in a lower tone: "Speak up to the Admiral, he is hard of hearing." When Chria had departed, Sir John Chandos took the sole chair that was sound on its four legs, and said: "I am come because I thought it might interest you, sir, to hear something about your grandfather, one of the linest men I ever came across, the smartest officer in Her Majesty's navy, and the highest type of the English gentleman. Your grandmother's name was Briseis." I "I don't care a hang what she was," the sick boy replied. "I cannot say, Mr Cecil," pursued the Admiral, ignoring, perhaps not hearing the remark, "that I knew your grandmother well, perhaps—but let bygones be bygones. As to your grandfather, it was an honour to have known him. By George! it is he who should have had a kniglithood rather than me. But his health gave way, and he broke down in body and mind, just as the prizes were coming to his hand. He was as modest a man as he aas a tyj^^&.^ i '}la±\t * 3 a I privilege to 'irake , ,wscju*flreance— the grandson of such a man." Young Boutfiower eyed the old gentleman with a puzzled expression in his I face. He was unaccustonied to this sort of address, and had a suspicion that he was being made game of; but the suspicion was dispelled by the courteous manner and honest face of the old gentleman.

"Miss Lavenham asked me to call on you," the Admiral continued, "and I was but too glad to do so. The fact is—l am in want of services that you may render me I understand that you have done some typewriting."

"I did that. But I have no machine, and I have done nothing for some time."

"Exactly. Well, I have it on my mind to write my reminiscences of your grandfather, Boivtflower —one of the best and truest of men—and it would be a sin to allow his good stories and remarkable experiences to be lost to the world. But you see, I feel a delicacy in letting my manuscript go to an ordinary typewriter, out of the family. If you would undertake the work, I finding , you the machine, we would soon settle- as to terms, and I would deal liberally with you." "I am sick, and my cough will not shake off." "That 13 a hindrance that is temporary," pursued Sir John; "my dear sir, it i 3 to my interest to pull you round. Have you been examined by a doctor?" "Not I." "Would you mind coming with me, and visiting an experienced surgeon who would overhaul you. And we will go together to a good restaurant, and have a capital dinner, and I will tell you some stories about your grandfather. What do you say? Kidney pudding or roast beef—or veal cutlets with tomato sauce? and—my fine fellow, a glass or two of stout will do you more good than claret. , '

"I ain't particular," said the youth, rising from his stool. "Old Gog 3 is out, and ain't' got mv dinner ready." "And, Sir!" pursued the Admiral; "let

me tell you that in this raw winter weather, with so much, fog about, you ought to wear a double-breasted coat, and — bless mj soul!—df you will allow me to advance the cost out of what I shall be indebted to you for the typewriting, 1 shall be proud."

"Are yer gammoning me?" asked Cecil. The Admiral did not hear the question. He went on—"Sir, Mr Cecil Boutnower, to think that after all these years I should make the acquaintance of a descendant of my dear old friend. I am an old stick. I never encountered the woman who cared to be troubled with me; and so I cling to old recollections, and to old friends. But come! I am hungry and want my lunch —I mean my dinner. We will provide you first with a warm overcoat and then—perhaps you can recommend me to a good restaurant."

The boy looked at his Questioner with a puzzled expression in his eyes, and with twitching muscles about his mouth. "I say, if yer mean it, I knows a 'eatin' 'ouse. Yer can get a blow out for ninepence, and tt stand up for sixpence. But it's not the sort o' place for the likes o' you." "No, it is not the sort of place for a grandson of Captain Boutflower."

"I ain't dressed respectable for a bet ter sort."

"We'll have you rigged out at a ready-made clothing establishment. My dear sir, on such a bitter day as this, we will not dine at ninepence but on half a crown each."

"Well, "ere's my 'at. Come along, then, skipper! 'Ere comes old Gogs. I say"—this was addressed to the woman as she entered—"don't you do no rasher for me. I'm goin" to dine with a gentleman, an old friend of my grandfather, a Lord High Admiral he be— stand aside, and don't block up the *vav."

He rudely pushed by the woman, but Sir John, who had put on liis hat, removed it, and bowed to the slattern as he went by.

Mrs Gogram stared, and said, "My eyes! That there Brice have brought in 'igh society. Wot next, I wonder? They'll be clearing me out. What a pity Boutflower is round at the Seven Stars. If 'ed been 'ere "c might 'a borrowed harf a crown off the gent." Never before had the slouching, pig-eon-breasted boy walked down Queerstreet with such a swagger as he did now, by the side of the stately, spruce old gentleman, with upright carriage. The prospect of the double-breasted coat, and, above all, of the kidney pudding swimming in gravy, had put Mm in the best of spirits.

He said: "Tve 'ad a row with old Mother Gogs, I 'aye. She found the bottle of sherry-wine tinder the coals, and in a jiffy she had it down her throat. Now I 'aye to take my cod-liv-er hoyle neat."

"We shall take the taste out of your mouth presently," said the Admiral.

Many hours were expended in excursions, first to a clothier, and there Sir John insisted on Cecil being provided with two complete suits, as well as with the promised overcoat. This the Admiral required the youth to put on at once, as a protection against the cold. The suits were to be done up into a parcel and carried away with them. Tims invested, Cecil looked fairly respectable, and he was taken at once to an eating' house. The transformation in him %vas great after a good meal and a pewter of stout. He Jost his suspicious mood, became submissive, and willing to be ruled by his companion as to his further movements. He was taken to a surgeon, who sounded him, and pronounced that the lungs were w r eak, and that, although there was incipient disease, this might be overcome and fatal consequences avoided, if the youth were taken out of London to some healthy place in the country, and were to use reasonable precautions against catching further colds. "You see .what he advises," said the Admiral. "Now* Mr Boutfiower, you accept my offer. I have a little place in Sussex on {he South Downs. It is the very situation desired for you; the air is pure, the subsoil chailk. I Lave a. caretaker there with bia wife, honest, good people, 'who will make you comfortable. I am not disinterested. I want you to recover, so as to be able to proceed with the type-writing of ray reminiscences of your" grandfather. By Jove! we will take the public by storm. Of course, if there be anything in my manuscript that the family would not like to have appear, it must be cast out. I leave you a free hand therein. The world will at last know what it lost in Archimedes Boutflower! It will learn what a splendid man he was. It is a privilege to me to have a hand in such a work. Now, if you will be guided by my judgment, I would advise you to take time by the forelock, and go today to my place, The Pines. I can telegraph to my people there to make ready for yon, and to meet you with my dogcart at the station."

"Well, I don't mind,' , said the youth. "I ain't so over "cad and cars in love with number eight us to care to see it again. But I must go there and put on my new togs, and fetch away my canary. Oh! my father don't care a snap* for me* and as to Brice, she'll learn it from Mother Gogs, and Miss Lavenham, if you will tell her."

So they returned to Queer street. When Cecil issued forth, invested in a warm navy blue suit, he looked a totally different man. He walked upright, he became more gracious in his manner, in his hand he carried his bird cage. "What a gentlemanly fellow you look —upon my soul," said the Admiral. "What is born in the bone comes out in the flesh. By the way, there is much in your face that reminds mo of my old friend I trust the same likeness will be found in your inner man—a fine sense of honour, strict regaru for truth, a high appreciation of duty, and what lies at the root of all, self-respect." (To be continued next Saturday.)

The new number of the "Journal of Comparative Legislation" contains a summary of the Acts of Parliament passed during 1901 in the different parts of the King's dominions, from which it may

be gathered that some 800 new laws were made for His Majesty's subjects. The legislative output of the Mother of Parliaments is insignificant beside that of several of her daughters. While the United Kingdom made only forty additions to her Statute Book, New South Wales and New Zealand both passed seventy-four new Acts, British Columbia passed Victoria fifty-nine, and Manitoba fifty-four. Even Tasmania beat the legislative record at Westminster, making forty-two additions to it 3 Statute Book. :