LONDON GOSSIP.

New Zealand Mail, Issue 1507, 17 January 1901, Page 10

LONDON GOSSIP.

(From “M.A.P.' ) EORD LIEUTENANT OF LEICESTERSHIRE. Lord Granby, the new Lord Lieutenant of (Leicestershire, is perhaps the greatest living authority on trout fashing. It is said that -when he was fishing once up North, an oA man .stood watching him for some time with undisguised approbation. then the old man murmured: “If the women only come to he like the trout do to Lis rod, it ’d take all. the wisdom ot Solomon to gie he a quiet lhe. LADY GRANBY. Lady Granby is a very fine artist, whose sketches seems to have something of the witchery of Burne-Jones with a touch of the Titian-like breath of Leigh ton. Nearly every celebrity in England has sat to her for those beautiful crayon studies the best of all, perhaps, being that of Mr Arthur Balfour. Possibly her paintings.- have never given. such general) (satisfaction. Anyhow, it has become a tradition that Sir John Mil lais once said : “It would be as great a mistake for Lady Granby to apply colour to her drawings as to her cheeks.’ A SNAPSHOT OF LORD NORTON. This venerable peer," who was President of the Board of Health as long ago as 1858, is one of the wonderful old men -of a century which has added longevity to its many characteristics. One of ray Warwickshire correspondents writes : “I saw Lord Norton, who has eighty-six years on him, going from Petty Sessions, near Birmingham, the other day, astride ,pony> and without an attendant of any sort. It was a damp, muggy day, and as he went down Coleshill Street, attired in a white top hat, with cape round his shoulders, and whipstock resting against his right leg, Lord Norton looked an interesting figure, well worth a permanent picture. The day before, his lordship had put in' a day at Warwick Quarter Sessions, twenty miles from home, and was about, the next day* at police-court work nearer to Hams Hall. Sometimes he walks into Coleshill, or back again, from this magisterial duty. His second son, Arden (w'ho is chairman of the Bench and a County Councillor), is married to a daughter of Mr StopfordSackville, M.P., who has just re-entered, Parliament for North Northamptonshire.” A NOVEL DRINK. Prince Victor Duleep Singh is, as is well known; quite an Englishman by education and adoption ; and is made doubly so by his marriage with Lady Anne Coventry daughter of the. popular Master of the Buckhounds. The Prince is a keen sportsman, and, unlike the average Englishman, shoots even better after luncheon than before. One day, shooting with his brother-in-law, Lord Deerhurst, he seemed unable to keep up his reputation, and missed bird after bird. At length they sat down to luncheon — the Prince perhaps a trifle put out. .‘“What wall you drink, Victor?” lie was asked, and to the astonishment of several of the guests replied: “Oh, a brandy and port mixed, please!” He took off a glass of the mixture, seemed to enjoy it immensely, and after luncheon proved the best- shot of the party! Evidently, the West has yet much to learn from the wise, mysterious East. THE QUEEN’S READING. ' Of the making of books, copies of which—one learns from duplicated paragraphs—“ Her Majesty the Queen has most graciously been pleased to accept,” there is no end. As to "whether the Queen reads them or no, no man knoweth, least of all the authors. But, “John Oliver Hobbes” is in happier case. She has learnt from Miss Janotha, who has it in writing from Princess Beatrice, that one of the latest books the Queen lias been reading is “Robert Orange/' Moreover, Miss Janotha has been told by the Princess that the Queen was much pleased with the novel. It could hardly be otherwise, with the sedulously A sympathetic glimjpses of Disraeli, the . Queen’s most favoured Minister, in which the book abounds- By the way, Miss Janotha, the favoured intermediary for this scrap of literary news, is a musician whose career has been most interesting. She is Court pianist to the German Emperor; and is a kinswoman of the last King of Poland. Her autobiography will shortly appear in “M.A.P.” THE KING OF ITALY’S DEVICE. Many are the stories that com© from Naples of the new King and Queen of Italy. I may supplement the one given lately in “M.A.P.” by a Torre del Greco correspondent by the following; Many members of the Royal household had grown old in the service, and the King, too soft-hearted to superannuate them, and so hurt their feelings, had recourse to a device. He and' the Queen ro3e very early in the morning, and rang

every bell in their respective apartments, so that the whole palace was roused. Ladies and gentlemen in waiting, officials servants, all were obliged This went on for some time, it being hoped each dfay chat- their Majesties would see the error of their ways ; but when it continued for weeks without interruption, it got “on the nerves,” especially of the elders, and requests for superannuation began to pour in. These were, of course, graciously acceded to, and the household is now in process of transformation. According to the eminently anecdotal Roman correspondent of the “Pall Mall Gazette,” this early rising had one unlooked for result. The feniliniiie portion of the Court, nqt excepting the Queen, began partly from fatigue and partly (it must be confessed) from boredom, to yawn even before dinner, so that when the last course was reached they were more than half asleep. One evening they were effectually awakened by the King. Fie looked about him and caught five separate people—one of whom was Queen Helena—trying to stifle u yawn, on which he said, “This is evidently the palace of the Sleeping Beauty; but —is it the moment of going to sleep or that of th e awakening ?” A McKINLEY STORY. Mr Waller, an uncle-in-law of Mr McKinley, tells the following story of the President's boyhood: On one occasion, during a visit of Mrs Waller to the home of her brother, William McKinley, senior, th e President was a lad of sixteen or seventeen years of age. He was a student at the time, and 1 was poring over his Latin when his brother David, who was superintendent of a coal mine, cam© rushing into the room and ordered young William to hitch up his horse and have it ready for him by a certain time, as he was in a. hurry, and wanted to dr He out to a dance several miles in the country. After his brother had left the room, young William turned to his aunt, Mrs Waller, and said : “Aunt Martha, don’t you think it humiliating for a Methodist and a Latin scholar to be compelled to hitch up a horse for a brother to go to a dance?” THE PRESIDENT’S DOUBLE. Both the grandfather of the President and his great-grandfather were carpenters by trade. The village of Chatfield, which is located on the site of the McKinley farm, was largely built by the McKinleys, and many buildings throughout the country and in Bucyrus are their handiwork. Upon the cite of the old McKinley home has been erected a com. modious two-story brick schoolhouse. The only relative bearing the family name who is a resident near the homestead is William McKinley, an employee of the Ohio Central Railroad. He is an exact counterpart of the President in build and facial mould. Among the pioneer citizens who remember Me Kinley’s ancestors, all speak of them in terms of highest praise. Those who knew David McKinley, his father, say that he was a highly educated and polished gentleman of the old school. He was a. teacher for many years, and was familiar with several languages. He also fought in the Revolutionary War, and 1 during the closing years of his life drew a pension for wounds received in the service. MR BRYAN—A PEN PICTURE. A pen picture of Mr Bryan at home, among his. children or with his neighbours, or his well-kept farm reveals a kindly, upright, debt-paying unassuming citizen, full of gentle, rollicking humour. It portrays a profoundly religious Presbyterian, without cant or presumptions piety; a man who neither drinks nor smokes tobacco, and yet does not deny other men the right to do so —frequently offering cigars to his friends— a graceful horseman, an exp eft hunter, a generous host. Mr Bryan is intensely American in all that distinguishes an American from a European. He has the same square-jawed courage, broad humanity and quaint dignity that made Abraham Lincoln the typical American of his day. He has Lincoln’s deep religious feeling and Lincoln’s unwavering faith in the Declaration of Independence as a sure political guide. He is, in a word, North America personified with all its continental prejudices and' confidence. A POLITICIAN’S WIFE. Mrs Bryan was the daughter of a merchant in the village of Perry, 111.—her family, like that of Mr Bryan, belonging distinctively to what are called the middle classes, no member thereof having attained great wealth, and non© having been reduced to abject poverty. Even since their marriage Mr and Mrs Bryan have continued their student life together—Mrs Bryan, during the years Immediately following it, studying law with her husßand as instructor, pursuing the course prescribed in the Union College of Law, Chicago, and being admitted to practice before the Supreme Court of Nebraska in 1888. She did not, ‘however, study with any idea of practising law, ’but merely to keep in touch with her ’ husband s work.

AN IRISH MANDARIN. Few know that Sir Robert Hart, of Chinese fame, is a Mandarin of the highest grade—of greater rank even, it isUsaid. than Li Hung Chang himself, Small, and unassuming in manner and appearance, dressed in the most careless fashion, a ’ ‘billycock” hat and a green tie usually completing his outdoor attire, Sir Robert has received every distinction which the Chinese can bestow, including the red button, the yellow jacket and the three-eyed peacock’s feather. His honour list touched its zenith some years ago when, wishing to raise him to still higher rank, and having no further decorations to bestow, the Celestial Government ennobled his family for three generations back, an honour which is surely as unique as —to Western ears at any rate —it is humorous. "To those in the know,” says a friend just back from Cnina, “the biggest mystery of the whole ugly business was the widely-circulated report that Sir Robert Hart had been massacred with the- diplomatic corps. Many of us even found it comical, for the Chinese would not hurt a hair of liis head; they love the man himself as much as they value his business capacity.” Sir Robert’s chief recreation i.s music ; he plays the violin, and has an excellent band of his own, led by a Portuguese bandmaster. Extremely fond of children, he enjoys nothing better than to invite all the European little people in Pekin to his house and romp with them to their heart’s content, while at Christmas he has a magnificent Christmas-tree laden with costly and useful presents, which are distributed broadcast. For social life in its usual .sense lie cares nothing. and. except to return th© call of a Minister, the round of visits he pays at the New Year completes his social duties. In fact, so stay-at-home is_ he that with the exception of one visit a year to the new seaside town of Beita Ho, Sir Robert Hart has not been out of Pekin for years. BADEN-POWELL AND HIS PORTRAIT. Here is a characteristic story of “8.P.” .sent to me by a newly-enrolled member of the South African Constabulary at Pretoria. Describing some; incidents of his first “inspection,” my correspondent says : “We had had a great rush to get things ship-shape, but were on parade half an hour before the general arrived. The captain and three lieutents fidgeted about, and finally one of them went to the corner to .see if he were coming. Presently lie appeared in the midst of a group of mounted men—a smaller man than the full-length portraits led me to think, with a freckled, finely-wrinkled face, adorned by a sandy moustache. After carefully inspecting every man, he entered the corn warehouse, where we are quartered. Someone had pinned a half-sheet of th© “Daily Mail” on the door, with a big, capital portrait of B.P. on it. But, without appearing to see it, he flicked it off with his switch!” THE PROFESSOR AND THE KAISER, So much has been written about the German Emperor’s high esteem for the late Professor Max Muller, that it is not without interest to record that, much as the great philologist appreciated the friendship of monarchs, he was not himself a very warm admirer of Kaiser Wilhelm’s personality. A story is told of a certain luncheon-party at his house, at which the Archbishop of York was present, when his Grace chanced to remark that he presumed his host shared to the full his (the Archbishop’s) extremely high opinion of the Hohen_ zollern Sovereign. ‘His gr-r-randfather was a t-r-r-ruly gr-r-reat man,’ replied the Professor, with that Teutonic roll of the ‘r,’ which he never lost after long years’ residence in England; T had an extreme respect for his late father, the Emperor Frederick, and his wife, the present Empress, is one of the most excellent women in Europe. ' CHURCHILLS ON THE PLATFORM. “The Town Hall was quite besieged the other evening, on the occasion of the lecture given by Mr Winston Churchill on “The War as I saw it.” The Duke of Marlborough presided, and not only introduced his distinguished relative to th© audience, hut commented afterwards on his address in a speech which, so far from, evidencing the eloquence naturally to be expected from an ex-ehaiiCellor of the Primrose League, cam© perilously near to a breakdown. The Dean of Christ Church, who is never at a loss, seconded the vote of thanks in very wellchosen words. Dean' Paget shares with his brother-head, the Master of Trinity, Cambridge, the reputation of being one of the readiest after-dinner speakers in England. Some people, however, have found the style and diction of both dignitaries a little too oppressively “churchy.” DR STUBBS AGAIN. An amusing instance of the Bishop of Oxford’s humour is given in the following story. Amongst his country clergy is one who may be called Mr Blank, of Blankton —a man full of fancied ailments, who considers constant change

such an absolute necessity that, at lhe date of the story, he wa* quite a stranger in his own parish. One day he came to the Bishop with his usual request. “Not very well, my lord—feeling decidedly run down—immediate change of air most urgent.” The Bishop’s eyes twinkled, hut he spoke quite quietly : “Try Blankton, my dear sir—try Blankton!” Bishop Stubbs has a high opinion of the value of Butler’s Analogy, and hardly ever forgets to impress its importance on young students- This was once testified in a comical manner after a luncheon given to Ordination candidates at the close of their examination. Amongst the number there happened to be a very simple and exceedingly nervous -young country curate. “Good-bye, Mr said the Bishop, with a genial smile, “don’t forget Butler, you know, don’t forget Butler!” “Oh no, ray lord,” replied the young man, nervously fumbling in liis pocket, “I’ve given him half-a-crcwn already!” A STORY OF THE BISHOP OF NORWICH. The Bishop of Norwich has perhaps more stories told of nim than most Bishops. "I asked him not long ago,” says a clerical contributor, “if he were really the hero who performed upon the out-of-reach knocker for a small girl and w r as then told to follow her example and run away. The Bishop said he could not lay claim to that experience. But en revanche, he told me the following which once occurred to him. He was to hold a confirmation at a small town and, arriving some time before the hour for service, took a stroll. His steps led hjm to the outskirts of the town. and. passing a picturesque little cottage, he. stopped to admire it. A pretty little gar_ den separated the cottage from the road, finished off with a neat hedge and green gate. “Oh, please, sir,” said a voice from the other .side of th© hedge, “would you open the gat© for me ?” This the Bishop at once did. Then, to his surprise. instead of the tiny child he had expected, there stepped forth a girl quite big enough to have opened the gate for herself. “And why, my dear,,' said Mr Sheepshanks, “could you not open the gate for yourself?” “Please, sir. because the paint’s wet,” said the child. A glance at his hand testified to the Bishop but too plainly the truth of her statement.