MY AUNT'S EXCURSION.

Otago Witness, Issue 2493, 25 December 1901, Page 37 (Supplement)

MY AUNT'S EXCURSION.

that his daughter, a very attractive girl who aided him in his, schemes,, must have decoyed him there." "His daughter? What, not little Olga? ' "Xo, not Olga. But the person you knew as Paul." BY RICHARD MARSH. "Paul his daughter!'" I gapped, recollecting the young man"- effeminacy. "Then what has become of her?" _ (•*'« y "*' '''"''"'""'■ >"•'""" -""""/<</ >■•< *»/ //,, <>,„,,„ »:„ "She was present in the room when her father opened the box, /"^ji^*"^- - — ~^*^- HOMAS," observed my aunt as she enteied There weie nine, .uul the\ woie about the most mi-cellanwiis-look-and was so feariully injured that she died eaily this morning in St v^^^^^^^NT^the room, "1 have taken you by bin prise ' mg nine I ever saw I had wondered wli.it tlie\ meant I>\ ",rauig George's Hospital. We've taken charge ol little Olga, and ane&tcd one y/mil^^^^ Slie had. Hamlet could scarcely have been with my aunt into my Mttmg-iooin. Now. it anything. 1 wondered of the servants who failed to escape. He has confessed to «ome \ev> LNfelV^^ /-?j^v moie < -"rp il ' <ed ai tne ■ippC' ll '' iri( - e of the ghost iat her moie. She nioceeded to nitioduce tlu'in nu'i\ •du.ill\— not by any interesting fact*;, which show that the repainting of the fiont door w.i* p^^\^^=^v(^7 of his father I had supposed that she was mean* by name only. done as sign to Sternbeig's confederates, ltli mliohi he was w:«e enough J y^y^^S^^ m the wilds of Cornwall. She glanced at the "lire is John V'.\a He is, eight\-two. ami -bght\ de.i/ tiood to hold no dnect communication." *^gsjg-^g s jg-^^ g^ ta)j ] e at vh lc h I h ac l been seated. giacious man. don't -tand there shutting, wth \om back against the "And Madame yon Hillern? ' " Whnt are you doing".'— having your breakfast?"' wall: sit down soniewheie, do. Ihn i> Mis l\nn«i. mmj -seven, and a "I called at Grosveiior Garden* last night, but she is absent— left « j pe^g^-g^ f rom the way in which she used her glares and the little lame. I believe you're eating peppeimints again. I told you, London the servants <=ay." was his reply "Her levenge was as neat maiked manner m w hich she paused, that .-lie cons-ideied the hour an Mrs Penna, that I can't stand the odour, and 1 can't This js her as Sternberg's own tuck, but it has relieved us of a very difficult piece uncanon j ca i one f or Slic h a me al. I retained some fia,gment& of my gr.mdson, Stephen Treen, aged nine. Ho cried in the tram " of work, and although in the eyes of the law it may be a crime, it has pres . ence of mind My aunt shook her finger at Stephen 'lie-en. nan admonitory at least rid Europe of one of its most daiing and dangerous criminal* " .. The fact my dear mnt^ that j was at wol k d i ltt j c i dte ] list night, fashion, which bide fair, from the look of him. lo c.aise an immediate IJ'he Evo 1 and > tllis morning, I find myself with a trifling hearlaehe." lenewal of his sorrows L " " J ••This is Matthew Hoiman, a coiiveited drunkard, who has been the wor-t character m the parish. But we aie hop ng bettei things ot him now " Matthew Hoiman . gunned, as it he wa« not certain that the hope was mutual "Tins, is Jane, and this Men, two maids of mine. Ihey aie good gir'.s. in their way. but stupid. You will have to keep your eye upon them, or they will lose themselves the very first choice they get" I was not amazed, as I glanced in their d lection, to peiceive that Jane and Kllen blushed. " This," went on my aunt, and into her voice there crane a <ort of awful dignity, "is Daniel Dyer. i belitve that he kissed Ellen in ai tunnel." ' "Please, ma'am," cried Ellen, and her manner bore the hall-mark 1 ot truth, " it wasn't me, and that I'm sine " "Then it was Jane, which does not a ter the case in the least." ' In saying this, it seemed to me that, from Ellen's point of view, my i aunt was illogical. " I am not certain that I ought to have brought | him with us ; but, since I have, we must make the best of it. I onlyhope that he will not kiss young women while he is in the streets with me." •' I also hoped, in the privacy of my own breast, that he would not kiss young women while he was in the streets with me, at least, while it remained broad day. "This," continued my aunt, leaving Daniel Dyer buried in the depths of confusion, and Jane on the veige ot tears, "is Sammy Trevenna, the parish idiot. I brought him, trusting that the visit would tend to sharpen his wits, amd, at the same time, teach him the difference which exists between right and wrong. You will have, also, to keep an eye upon Sammy. I regret to say that he is addicted to picking and stealing. Sammy, where is the address card which 1 gave you? " Sammy, who looked his character, every inch of it, was a lanky, shambling youth, apparently eighteen or n.neteen years old. He fumbled in his pockets. " " I've lost it," he sniggered. "I thought so. That is the third you have lost since we started. Here is another. I will pin it to your ccat ; then, when you are lost, some one will be able to understand who you are. Last, but not least, Thomas, this is Mr Poltifen. Although this is his first visit to London, he has read a great deal about the Great Metropolis. He has —Read, photo. PELORUS BRIDGE, ON THE ROAD TO NELSON. brought a few books with him, from which he proposes to read selections, at various points in our peregrinations, bearing upon the sights THC ml I f\C THE lIDI ANn VIII P "Then a holiday will do you good." which we are seeing, in order that instruction may be blended with our lllb CALL Ur lnc UrLAnLI YULE. I agreed -with her. I never saw an occasion on which I felt that it en tertainment." would not. Mr Poltifen was a, short, thick-set individual, witn that in his appearance " I shall be only too happy to avail myself of the opportunity which was suggestive of pugnacity, an iron-grey, scrubby beard, and a {Specially written for the Witness Xma* Animal of mi.) afforded by your unexpected presence to relax, for a time, the strain pair o f spe cetacles, probably something superior in the cobbling line. Come up, come up the river-bed track, ° f m 7m 7 curriculum of studies. May I hope, my dear aunt, that you pro- He had about a dozen books fastened together in a leather strap, Where the sister lakes are smiling ; ' P ose to stay with me at least a montll '- " among them being— as, before the day was finished, I had good reason And the toi nods by the milky bliK, ' "I return to-night." to be aware— a history of London in seven volumes. In shimmer of noon's beguiling. "To-night! When did you come V " "Mr Poltifen," observed my aunt, waving her hand towards the And bronze and gray, the bluffs array, "This morning." gentleman referred to, "represents, in our party, the quality of intelligent Shoulder to burly shoulder; "From Cornwall?" interest." Where the kea cries, and the swamp hen flies, (( Prom LostwitUel excursion left Lo Stw ithiel shortly after Mr Poltifen settled his glasses on his nose and glared at me as if he Over the blood-red boulder." midnight, and returns again at midnight to-day, thus giving 14 hours dared me to den >' *• Nothhl S could have been further fr ° m my (lower nor turret pleases you, .q. q Lond(m fm 1Q shiUings x resolved to advantage of the oc- mind - Nor grove o' the white May thorn, &nd to g . ye gome of my pQorer neighbourSj who had never been " Sammy," exclaimed my aunt, » sit still. How many times have When comes the call of the upland Yule piymouth in their lives> a glimpse of some of the sights of I to request you not to shuffle?" To the blood of the mountain born.) Great c^ Hej , e they are _j fiUed a comp artment with them. Sammy was rubbing his knees together in a fashion the like of which There are nine." I had never seen before. When he was addressed he drew the back of " Come up, come up the hitherward way, Where the Ice Queens are waiting ; Crowned and kind and girdled with mist, As fresh from the first creating. And lilies untold with hearts of gold, Pray in their green pavilion ; And low by the fell, the immortelle, Lies wee and warm by the million." (Sea will not serve you, Nor gold o' the wind-ribbed corn, When Hertha calls in the Yule o' the South To the blood of the mountain born.) —JESSIE MACKAY. Dunedin, 1901. 3000 YEARS OLD. " The Chri>tmas tree," remarked a member of the Society of Antiquaries, "is perhaps the greatest link we have with our earlier ancestors. '" At least 3000 years ago a tree gaily decorated was set up in the mysterious Druidicd/1 shrines at Stonehenge and elsewhere. "Few people, however, know that not only the Christmas tree, but some of its decorations, are actually relics of these by-gone ages Those linked rings ot gilt paper we hang round the tree were once Druidical symbol* of eternity, while the globes of glass and gilt balls which dangle fiom the boughs were emblems of the sun and moon. Even the candles serve to remind u< of the torches carried by those old sun and fire worshippers. " To come down to later times (the Mffldle Ages, in fact), when the tree w as adopted into Christian festivals, little figures of the saints were hung from its branches, and this will explain the appearance of the little cake images that are made at Yuletide. It may even be that these represent the Druidical idol formed of wheaten dough which were used a' the midwinter festivals."

his hand across his mouth, and he sniggered. I felt that he was not the sort of youth anyone would have been glad to show round the town. My aunt took a >heet of paper from her handbag. "This is the outl ne programme we have drawn up. We have. •■£ course the whole day in front of us, and I have lotted down the names o c some of the more prominent places of inteiest which we wish to see." She began to read. ' The Tower Br dge, the Tower of London, Woolwich Arsenal, the National Gallery, British Museum, South Kensington Museum, the Natural History Museum, the Zoological wardens, Kew Gardens, Greenw eh Hospital. Westminster Abbey, the Albeit Memorial, the Houses of Parliament, the Monument, the Marble Arch, the Bank of Kngland. the Thames Embankment, Billingsgate Fimi Market, Covent Garden Market, the Meat Maiket. some of the birthplaces of famous persons, 'ome of the scents mentioned in Charles Dickens's novels— during the winter we had a lec-tuie in the schoolroom on Charles Dickens's London (it aroused greit interest)— .and the Courts of Justice. And we should like to finish up at the Crystal Palace. We should like to hear any suggestions you w mild care to make which would tend to alteration or improvement— only, I may observe, that we are desirous of reaching the Crystal Palace as early in the day as possible, as it i<= there we propose to have our mdday meal. I had always been awaie that my aunt's practical knowledge of London was but slight, but I had never realised how slight until that moment. " Our provisions w e have brought w ith us. Fach person has a meat pasty, a, potato pasty, a jam pasty, and an apple pasty, so that a., we shall require will be water." This explained the small brown paper parcel which each member of the party was dangling by a string. "And you propose to consume this little provision at the Crystal Palace, after visiting these other places?" My aunt inclined her head. I took the sheet of paper from which she had been reading. -May I ask how you propose to get from place to place?" •'Well. Thomas, that is the point. I have made myself responsible for the entire charge so I would wish to keep down expenses. We should like to walk as much as possible." "If you walk from Woolwich Arsenal to the Zoological Gardens, and from the Zoological Gardens to Kew Gardens, you will walk as far as possible, and rather more."' Something in my tone seemed to cause a shadow to come over my aunt's face. x. " How far is it? " " About fourteen or fifteen miles. I have never walked it myself, you understand, so the estimate is a rough one." I felt that this was not an occasion on which it was necessary to be over-particular as to a yard or so. ,' "So much as that? I V had no idea it was so far. Of course walking is out of the question. How would a van do? " "A what?" " A van. One of those vans in which, I understand, children go for treats. Howmuch would they charge, now, for one which would hold the whole of us? " "I haven't the faintest notion, aunt. Would you propose to go in a van to all these places? " I motioned towards the sheet of paper. She nodded. "I have never, you un- j^ derstand, done this sort '* - of thing in a van, but I imagine that the kind of vehicle you suggest, with one pair of / horses, to do the entire round would take about three weeks." Three weeks ! Thomas ! " " I don't pretend to literal accuracy, but I don't believe that I'm far wrong. No means of locomotion with which I am acquainted will enable you to do it in a day, of that I'm certain. I've been in London since my childhood, but I've never yet had time to see onehalf the things you've got down upon this sheet of paper." " Is it possible? " 'It's not only possible, it's fact. You country folk have no notion of London's vastness." " Stupendous ! " "It is stupendous. Now, when would you like to reach the Crystal Palace?" " Well, not later than four. By then we shall be hungry." , y - I surveyed the nine. x - / "It strikes me that some of you look hungry now. Aren't you hungry? " I spoke to Sammy. His face was eloquent. "I be famished." I do not attempt to reproduce the dialect. I am no dialectician. I merely reproduce the sense ; that is enough for me. The lady whom my aunt had spoken of as "Mrs Penna, sixty-seven, and a little lame," agreed with Sammy. "Sobe I. Ibe fit to drop, I be." On this subject there was a general consensus of opinion — they all eeemed fit to drop. I was not surprised. My aunt was surprised instead. " You each of you had a treacle pasty in the train."

" What be a. treacle pasty. I was dispoM d m echo Mrs Penna's query — what be a treacle paMy ' My aunt struck me as 1 ea ly cutting the thing a little too fine. "You finish youi pasties now ; when we get to the Palace I'll see that you have something 1o take then place, 'lh.it -hall be my part r,f +V.O treat "'

My aunt's manner was distinctly severe, especially considering that it was a, party of pleasure. Before we started it was ar- i ranged exactly what provision would hay* to be sufficient. " I do not wish to encroach upon your generosity, Thomas, nothing of the kind." " Never mind that, aunt ; that'll be all right. You tuck into your pasties." They tucked into their pasties with a will. Aunt had some breaU- j

fast with me— poo. soul, bl.t- m.mml „. „. t,t ' ...-I «« <1,.,u-ed the arrangements toi the day. "Of com Me, my dear aunt, tin- ].■<.,<. .mm. ..i <om- i- nit of the question altogether." We'll ju-t <I<. ... -I .... ■ I- - •■"! t1..-n it'll be time to start for the Palace." "But, xuomas, they will be so tl -.. pp<»i m . -I ..,.<! - „.,-id-i ing how nuch it will cost me, we shall stem t., »,. „-. M lh/ -„ Jitf #- Un the noney." "My dear aunt, you will have Trad enough b\ tin time you gee jack, I promise you." My promise was more than fulfilled ; they had Lid good measure >ressed down and running mer. The first part ot our programme took the foim. a*. 1 had .suggested, of a ride on a "bus. Oui advent in the Stiand— my rooms are in the Adelphi — created a sensation. I tancy the general impression was that we we.c a party of lunatics whom I was personally conducting. That my aunt was one of them I do not think that anyone doubted. The way in which she worried and scurried and fussed and flurried was sufficient to convey that i idea. * It is not every 'bus which has room for eleven passengers We could not line up on the Ueibstoiie ; it would have been to impede the traffic And „- my aunt would not hear of a division of forces, as u<• sauntered along the pavement we enjoyed ourselve-s lmmeiiH-h Hie "pai sh idiot" would insist on hanging on to the front of every xliop wmdnu . i,e<e^sit,i,tmg hs being diagged .'iwa\ b\ the <ollai of his jacket. Jane fund Kll<-n glued thinrwlves together mm in dim, snigi/eimg .it anything and everything, especially when Dan. el Dyer d gged them in the nbs from behind. Mrs Penna, provinc herself to be a good deal more than a little lame, had to be hauled along by my aunt on one side, and Mr Holmm, the "converted drunkard," on the othfr. That Mr Holman did not enjoy hi- position I felt convinced from the way in which, every now and then, he jerked the poor old soul completely off her feet. / With her other hand my aunt .*?'' ' gripped Master Treen by the ' ' hand, he keeping his mouth as wide open a^ he possibly , ' -- ' could : his little trick of continually look n_r behind him insulting m collision-! with most nf the |invin. and lamp posts, he rhanced to encounter. f The dpat Mr Lva brought up the rear with Mr Poltifen and his strap full of books, that gentleman favouring him with totally erroneous -craps of information, which he was. fortunately, quite unable to hear. We had rea< htd Newcastle street before we found a 'bus which contained the requ site amount of accommodation. Then when I hailed one w hich was nearly empty, the party boarded it. Somewhat to my surprise, scarcely any one wished to go outside. Mr- Penni. ot course, had to be lifted into the inter or. where Jane and Ellen joined her — I fancy that i-hey fought <hy of the ladderiike staircase — followed byDaniel Dyer, in spite of h my aunt's protestations. A-iA -i£ N She herself went next, dia»gging with her Master Treen, who w anted to go outside, but was not ?A allowed, and, in ll consequence, was % moved to tears, t^ Messrs Eva, Pol14 t.fen, Holman and j\* I were the only 'j-' persons who made ,"- the ascent ; and, .-'/ the conductor having indulged in some sarcastic comments on things in general, and my aunt's proteges in particular, which nearly drove me to commit assault and battery, the 'bus was started. We had not gone far before I had ***■ — reason to doubt the genuineness of Mr Holman's conversion. Drawing tli& back of his hand across his lips, he remarked to Mr Eva: "It do seem as if this were going to be a thirsty job. 'Taint my notion of a holiday " I repeat that I make no attempt to imitate the dialect. Perceiving himself addressed, Mr Eva put his hand to his ear. " Beg pardon — what were that you said? " "I say that I be perishing for something to drink. I be faint for want of it. What's a day's pleasure if you don't never have a chance to moistenyour lrpsY " Although this was said in a tone of voice which caused the foot-passengers to stand and stare, the driver to start round in his seat as if he had been struck, and the conductor to come up to inquire if anything was wrong, it failed to penetrate Mr Eva's tympanum. "What be that?" the old gentleman observed. "It do seem as if I were more deaf than usual." I touched Mr Holman on the shoulder.

All r.ght ; leave him alone. I'll s>ee that you have what you

■want when we get down ; only don't try to make him understa i.l while we're on this 'bus."

" Thank you kindly, sir. There's no denying that a taste ot rum would do me good. John Eva, he be terrible hard of hearing — terrible ; and the old girl she ain't a notion of that's fit for a man."

How much the insiders saw of London I cannot say. I doubt if any one on the roof saw much. In my anxiety to light on one with room I had not troubled about the destination of the 'bus. As. however, it proved to be bound for London Bridge, I had an opportunity to point out St. Paul's Cathedral, the Bank of England, and similar places. I cannot say that my hearers seemed much struck by the privileges they were enjoying. When the vehicle drew up in the station yard. Mr Holman pointed with his thumb: — " There be a public over there."'

I admitted trat there

have plenty of room to knock their heads against anything they pleaded. But Forester^ Day' Wa^ it c ghty or a hundred thousand people who weie wont tf assemble on that occasion. 1 remembered to have seen the figures somewhere. Ihe lad.es and gentkman about us wore an air of conviviality, that one wondered to what heights they would attain i^ the clay wore on. We had a delightful journey. It occupied between two and three hours, 01 so it seemed to me When we were not hanging on to platforms, we were being shunted, or giving the engine a rest, or something of the kind. I know we were stopp ng most of the time. But the Foresters, male and female, kept things mming. if the train stood still. They s^ang songs-, comic and sentimental ; played on various instrument.-, principally concertinas ; whistled ; paid each other compliments ; and -t on. Jane and Ellen were in the next compartment to mine, as us.ua!

was. " Here's a shilling for you. Mind that you're quickly back. Perhaps Mr Pollifen would like to come with you." Mr Poltifen declined. " I am a teetotaller. I have never touched alcohol in any form." I felt that Mr Poltifen regarded both myself ami my proceedings with austere displeasure. When all alighted, my aunt proceeding to number the party, discovered that one was mi&sing ; also who it was. '• Where is Matthew Holman? " " He's — he's gone across the road to — to se^ the time." "To •see the time ! There's a clock up ov?r the station there. What do you mean? " " The fact is, my dear aunt, that, feeling thirsty, he has gone to get something to drink. " To drink ! But hp signed the pledge on Monday." " 'Jhen in that case, he's broken it on Wednesday. Come, let's get inside the station ; we can't stop here ; people will wonder who we aire." " Thomas, we will wait here for' Matthew Holman. lam responsible for that man." "Certainly, my dear aunt ; but if we remain on the precise spot on which we are at present planted we shall be prosecuted for obstruction. If you will go into the station I will bring him to you there." ■' Where are you going to taike us now? ' "To the Crystal Palace." " But, we have seen nothing of Tondon." " You'll see more of it when you get to the Palace. It's a wonderful place, full of the most stupendous sights j,*lsie&; due examination will' A^g than occupy all the time, v< you have to spare." Having hustled *-; them into the station, I went in search of Mr Holman. "The f y^^converted drun- ( ' kard" was really O — enjoying himself for the first time. He had already disposed of four threepenny-worth^ <>1 mm, and was draining the last as I came in. " Now, sir, if you was so good as to loan me another s-hilling 1 shouldn't wonder if I was to have a nice day after all." "I dare say. We'll talk about that later on. If you don't want to be lost in London you'll come with me at once." I scrambled them all into a train, I do not know hoiv. It was a case of cram. Selecting an open carriage, I divided the party among the different compartments. My aunt objected, but it had to be. By the time they were all in my brow was damp with perspiration. I looked around. Some of our fellow-passengers wore ribbons, about 18 inche--wide, and other mysterious things. Already, at that hour of the day, they were lively. The crowd was not what I expected. "Is there anything on at the Palace? " I inquired of my neighbour He laughed, in a manner which was suggestive. "Anything on? What ho! Where are you come from? Why, it's the Forester's Day. It's plain that you're not one of us. More shame t 0 you, sonny; here's a chance for you to join." Forester's Day! I gasped. I saw trouble ahead. I began to think that I had made a mistake in tearing off to the Crystal Palace in searcn of solitude. I had expected a desert, in which my aunt's friends would

glued together. How those two girls managed to keep stuck to each other was a marvel. Xext to them was the persevering Daniel Dyer. In front was a redfaced gentleman with a bright blue tie, and an 18-inch-wide green ribbon. He addressed himself to Mr Dyer. " Two nice young ladies you've got there, sir." Judging from what he looked from the back, I should say that Mr Dyer grinned. Obviously Jane and Ellen tittered ; they put their heads together in charming confusion. The red-faced gentleman continued : " One more than your share, haven't you, sir? You couldn't spare one of them for another gentleman — meaning me?" " You might have Jame," replied the affable Mr Dyer. "And which might happen to be Jane?" Mr Dyer supplied th? information. The red-faced gentleman raised his hat. " Pleased to make your acquaintance, miss ; hope we shall be better friends before the day is over." My aunt, in the compartment behind, rose in wrath.

'Daniel Dyer ' Jane 1 How dare yon beh.'ve in Mich a manner?"

The red-faced gentleman twisted himseif rouml in hs seat. "Beg pardon, mi^& — was you speaking to me? It you're alone I dare say there's another gentleman present who'll be willing to oblige. Every young lady ought to have a gent to herself on a day like this. Do me the favour of putting this to your lips ; you'll find it's the right stuff." Taking out a flag bottle, and wiping it upon the sleeve of h:s coat, he offered it to my aunt. She succumbed. When I found myself a struggling unit in the struggling mass on the Crystal Palace platform, my aunt caught me by the aim. " Thomas, where have you brought us to? " "This is the Crystal Palace, aunt."

"The Oy«ul Palace! ItV pandemonium.

Wheie are the membeiv of our party? " That was the ques-

turn. My aunt collared such of them as she could lay her hands on. Matthew Hci'nian was missing. Personally. I was not sorry. He had been "putting his lip^" to more than one friendly bottle in the compartment behind mine, and was on a fair way to having a "nice day" on line* of his own. I was quite w illing that be should have it by himself. But my aunt was not. She was for going at once for the police, and commissioning them to hunt for and produce him then and theie.

" I'm responsible for the man," she kept repeating. "I have bis ticket." "Very well, aunt, that's all right. You'll find him, or LeU find you ; don't you trouble."

But she did trouble. She kept on troubling. And her cause for trouble giew more and more as the day went on. Before we were in the main building — it's a journey from the low, level station through endless passages, and up countless stairs, placed at the most inconvenient intervals — Mrs Penna was hors de combats As no seat was handy, she insisted on sitting down upon the floor. Passers-by made the most disagreeable comments, bufc she either could not; or would not move. My aunt seemed half beside herself. She said to me, most unfarirly :

" You ought not to have brought us here on a day like this. It is evident that there are some most dissipated creaturaa here. I have a horror of a crowd — and with all the members of our party on my hands — and such a crowd ! "

" How was I to know? I had not the faintest notion that anything particular was on till we were in the train."

"But you ought to have known. You live in London." "It is true that I live in London. But Ido not, on that account, keep on eye on what is going on at the Palace. I have something else to occupy my time. Besides, there is an easy remedy — let ua leave the place at once. We might find fewer people in the Tower -A London. I was never there. bo I can't say — or on the top of the Monument."

" Without Matthew Holman? " any rate, is in congenial

I " Personally, I should say yes. He, at any rate, is in congenial company." " Thomas ! " I wish I could reproduce the tone in which my aunt uttered my name ; it would cause the edges of the paper on which I am writing to curl. Another source of annoyance was the manner in which the redfaced gentleman persisted in sticking to us, like a limpet, as if he were a member of the party. Jane and Ellen kept themselves glued together. On Ellen's right hand was Daniel Dyer, and on Jane's kit was the red-faced gentleman. This was a condition of affairs of which my aunt strongly disapproved. She remonstrated with the stranger, but without the least effect. I tried my hand on him, and failed.

He was the best-tempered and thickest-skinned individual I ever i |J tnembered to have met.

"It's this way." I explained — he needed a deal if explanation. "This lady has brought these people for a little pleasure excursion to town, for the day only; and, as these young ladies aie in hei «ole charge, she feels herself responsible for them So would you just mml leaving us? "

It seemed that he did mind, though he showed no sign*, of having his feelings hurt by the suggestion, as some persons might have done.

" Don't you worry, governor ; I'll help her look after "em. I've looked after a few people in my time, so the young lady can trust me— can't you, miss? "

Jane giggled. My impression is that my aunt felt like shaking her. But, just then, I made a discovery. "Hollo! Where's the youngster?" My aunt twirled herself round. " Stephen ! Goodness ! Where has that boy gone to? " Jane looked through the glass which ran along one side of the corridor. Why, miss, there's Stephen Treen over in that crowd there."' "Go and fetch him back this instant." I believe that my aunt spoke without thinking. It did seem to me that Jane showed an almost criminal eagerness to obey her. Off she flew into the grounds, through the great door which wa& wide open close at hand, with Ellen still glued to her arm, and Daniel Dyer at her heels. and the red-faced gentleman after him. Almost in a moment they became melted, as it were, into the crowd, and were lost to view. My aunt peered after them through her glasses. "I can't see Stephen Treen, can you?"

"No, aunt, I can't. I doubt if Jane could either."

"Thomas! What do you mean? She said she did.'

"Ah! there are people who'll say anything. I think you'll find th<u. for a time, at amy rate, you've got three more members of the paity off your hands."

"Thomas! How can you talk like that? After bringing us to thidreadful place! Go after those benighted girls at once, and bring them back, and that wretched Daniel Dyer, and that miserable child, an] Matthew Holman, too."

It struck me, from her manner, that my aunt wa- hovering on the verge of hysterics. While I was endeavouring to explain how 't was that I did not see my way to start off, then and theie, in a sort of general hunt, an official, sauntering up, took a bird's eye view ot Mrs Penna. '"Hollo, old lady, what's the matter with you? — aren't you well?"' " No, I be not well, I be dying. Take me home, and let me die upon my bed." "So bad as that, is it? What's the trouble?" "I've been up all night and all day, and little to eat and naught to drink, and I be lame."

"Lame, are \ou?" The official turned to my aunt. "You know you didn't ought to bung a lame old lady into a crowd like this."' " I didn't bring her. My nephew brought us- all." "Then the sooner, 1 should say. a our nephew takes \n« all aw \y again, the better."

The official took himself off. Mr Poltifen made a remark Hi- ton" was a trifle sour.

"I cannot say that 1 think we are spending a pjofitable and pleasureable day in London. I understood that the object which we had in viewwas to make researches into Dickens's London, or I 'hould not hav° brought my books." The " parish idiot " began to moan.

they would do their best, but they did not think there was much like- She looked across the load, across the beautiful garden and stretch lihood of any of the stolen property being regained; adding that, in of lawn belonging to the opposite house. "What a, beautiful house that a crowd like that, people ought to look after their pockets, which wa- , is" she commented inwardly, " how happy they must feel that live co.a comfoit for my aunt, and rounded the day off nicely. there!"

"I be that hungry, Ibe ! I be ! '" Here," I cried, " here's half a crown for you. Go to that refreshment stall and cram yourself with penny buns to bursting point. ' Off sttiited Sammy Trevenna. he had sense enough to catch mv meaning. My Mint called after him. " Sammy ' You mustn't leave us ! Wait until we come !" But Sammy declined. When hurrying after him, catching him Dy the shoulder, she sought to detain him. he positively showed s : gns of fight. Oh, it was a delightful day ! Enjoyable from stait to finish. Somehow I got Mrs Penna. with my aunt, and the remnant, into the main building, and planted them on chans, and piovided them with buns and similar dainties, and n^tiucted them not, on any pr •- text, to budge fiom where they wcie until 1 letuined w.th the tm nits, whom, straightway, I went in search of. Ido not mind a -hint ting that T commenced by paying a visit to a refreshment bar upon my own account — ! needed hornet lung to suppoit me Xor, having 1-nmtorted the inner mam. did I press forward on mv quest with undue haste Fx.icth as I expected, I found J.uic and Kllen in a sheltered a', cove in the ground 5 -, with Dan. a! Dyei on one -ide, the red-faced gentHmai on the other, and Master Treen nowheie to be seen. The led-faied gentleman's friendship with Jane had advanced so rapidly that when I suggested her pronnt letiuti to my aunt, he considere 1 himself entitled to object Avith such vehemence that he actually took his coat off and invited me >o fight. But I was not to be browbeaten by him, and hawing made it clear, that, if he attempted to follow, I should call the po'.ice, I marched off in triumph with my prizes, only to discover that the young women had tongues of their own, y\\ih examples of whose capacity they favoured me as we proceeded. I believe that if I had been my awnt I should, then and there, have boxed their ears. My aunt received us with a countenance of such gloom that I immediately perceived that something frightful must have occurred. Thomas!" she exclaimed, I've been robbed-" "Robbed? — my dear aunt 1 of wharf; — your umbrella?" "Of everything ' " "Of everything? I hope it's not so bad as that." "It is. I've been robbed of purse, money, tickets, everything, down to my pocket handkerchief and bunch of keys."

It was the fact ; she had. tier pocket, coi.tahnng ah she possessed — out of Cornwall! — had been cut out of her dress and carried clean awa/v. It was a very neat piece of work, as the police agreed, when we laid the case before them. They observed that, of course,

Ticketless, moneyless, returning to Cornwall that night was out of the question. I put "the party" up. My aunt had my bed ; Mrs Perm.i was accommodated in the same room ; the others somewhere and somehow. I camped out. In the morning, the telegraph being put in motion, funds were forthcoming, and the "party" started on its homeward way. The railway authorities would listen to nothing about lost excursion tickets. My aunt had to pay full fare, twenty-one and twopence halfpenny, for each. I can still see her face as she paid. Two days afterwards Master Stephen Treen and Mr Matthew Holman were reported found by the police, Mr Holman showing marked signs of a distinct relapse from grace. My aunt had to pay for their being sent home. The next day she received, through the post, in an unpaid envelope, the lost excursion tickets. No comment accompanied them. Her visiting card was in the purse ; evidently the th.ef, having no use for old excursion tickets, had availed himself of it to 'end them back to her She has them to this day, and never looks at them without a qualm. That w as her fir^t excursion ; she tells me that never, under any circumstances, will she try another. [Thk End ]