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Really, you know," Mr. Church remarked over the new bottle, " most singular thing-aw -three fellalis, perfect strangers, should meet like this and all of us strange to London. Bay Jove. You're from the North (I had told them so, which was true), I'm from the East, and our friend and American brother, aw, if I may call him so, is from the West. Tell you what. As soon as ever the lawyers have done up my business, you shall both come down to my place in Essex and see me. Jolly good welcome and deuced good shooting. You shoot ? 'course ?" turning to my American friend.

"Sheute? Wal, a small piece. I was lieutenant in General Sherman's army for three yeeres, and very pretty sheutin' we had. Concleude yeu mean rifle sheutin' ?”

"Oh, no; shooting game," Mr. Church explained.

way, he said, and the cabman had told him where the shooting gallery was. The two walked one on either side of me. We came to a dirty back street immediately behind the Westminster Palace Hotel, down that, and to the right-a dirtier street still. I said this was a strange situation for a shooting gallery. "It was all right when you got there," Mr. Church said; it was kept very snug."

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At the lower end of this street, I was not at all ill pleased to see a policeman talking to a woman. I tried my utmost to catch his eye as we passed, but without success. We turned down a third street of slimy houses, with here and there the filthy red curtain of a low public house. Sharp round the corner into a blind alley. A dank greasy brick wall blocked the other end of the place, so I knew we had reached our destination. Scarcely more than one of the dilapidated wooden houses in the

"Yeu don't du rifle sheutin', then ?" Bay Jove, no. I only shoot pheasants and alley showed outward signs of being tenanted; partridges and all that sort of thing." "Reckon yu're a good shot, perhaps ?" "No, nothing uncommon."

'Wal, how many times d'yu concleude yu'd hit the bull's-eye out of twenty with a rifle ?" 'Oh, aw. I suppose sixteen," said Mr.

66

Church.

decayed shutters were nailed up to the windows; the whole frontage was smothered in filth and grime. The most villanous-looking public house I ever set my eyes on was the last house but one, nearest the wall.

66

That's the gallery," said Church. "Reckon it is," said my American friend.

"Bet yeu ten dollars yeu don't hit it four-"That's the identical crib where I made some

teen." "Done."

'Very good, sir. My friend here shall be umpire.' This was I.

"

Oh no; hang it! He's a friend of yoursthat's not fair. Have the landlord." Thus Mr. Church.

The American explained that the landlord could not leave his business, and that I was only an acquaintance of half an hour, and could not be prejudiced either way. So, with some apparent reluctance, Mr. Church consented.

The next thing was, where should we go "to sheute off the affair," as my American friend put it. "I know there's a place Westminster way," he said. "I know there is, 'cause the volunteers sheute there."

I told him no; the volunteers did not shoot at Westminster, but only paraded.

"I mean a gallery," he said. "I know I had a sheute there with one or tew volunteers last week; but I couldn't find the place again." "Call a cab," suggested Church. "Cabby 'll be sure to know."

"Where to, sir?" the cabman asked Church. "Westminster Palace Hotel," he replied. I was in a cab with two men whose object was to rob me, and I was being driven whither they directed. However, I was not going to be cowed at riding alone with two thieves through the crowded London streets in broad day, and I was bent on disappointing them. As we rode on, they pretended ignorance of the various buildings we passed. I pointed out Somerset House, the Charing Cross Hotel, National Gallery, Whitehall, &c.

Arrived at Westminster, Mr. Church dismissed the cab. We could walk the rest of the

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fine sheutin' last week. Come along." I followed them to the door. A woman went out as they entered. Go and fetch -and two names I could not catch, I overheard Church whisper. The men went in first, I following. The beershop bar was a filthy room, about six feet square, on the right as we entered, with only a window to serve beer through. The passage was long. About three yards down it, was a partition with a half door, very strong. I saw, too, that it had a strong hasp or catch to it, without a handle, so that, once past that, a victim was shut in like a mouse in a trap. I stopped there.

"Come along, and look sharp," said my American friend, with less twang than before; "here's the gallery," and he opened a door on the left.

I looked in at that open door. I saw a strong room or cell, seven feet square, as near as I can judge-nothing but bare brick walls, no window (it was lighted for the moment from the passage), and deep sawdust on the floor. Both the men were beside the door, standing half in light half in shadow.

"Harry the Maid, and Churcher," I said, “I know you both. It won't do, and you have lost some valuable time!" I slammed the half door to gain a moment's time from pursuit, and took to my heels. I had been in the court at Worcester when those two men were tried for card-sharping. I never slackened speed until I came upon the policeman, who was still talking to the woman.

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Policeman," I said, "I think I can put you on two people you want, perhaps-Harry the Maid and Churcher."

"Harry the Maid," he replied, "is the greatest

card-sharper in England, and Churcher is the tip-top of skittle sharps; but that's not their only trade."

I told him of my adventure, and how I had tried to arrest his attention as I passed.

"Look you here, sir," he said, " as you've got away alive, and with your clothes on, from those two, just you be very thankful for having done well, and don't ask for anything more. If you had caught my eye as you passed, I wouldn't have gone into that crib after you-no, nor yet if there had been two more along with me. If we want a man out of that place we go ten and a dozen strong, and even then it's a risk." "But, supposing I had really been a simple countryman, and passed that half door and gone into the trap ?" I asked.

"If you had come out any more, it would have been in your shirt," replied the policeman.

THE MUSIC OF THE SPHERES.

I.

HAST thou not heard it, the universal music?
The throbbing harmony, the old eternal rhyme?
In the wild billows roaring,
In the mad torrent pouring,
And keeping with the stars its beat and march

sublime?

Hast thou not heard it when the night was silent,
And nothing stirred but winds amid the trees,
And the star-orbits, strings of harps celestial,
Seemed quivering to the rush of melodies?

II.

in the year 1502, we find the moralist preaching in a form that was very old even then. The Highway to the Hospital is older than the drunken community of the Children without Care, and the rest of the representative gentry "who knew Hebrew," and were borne about among the vineyards and orchards of France, in the company of representative figures of wantonness and dishonesty. Amid the orgies of Briquerasade and the rascalities of Cartouche, and the degrading superstitions of the Grand Grimoire, which pandered to the passions and vices of the ignorant multitude through many generations, we find the moralist at his patient work. The Highway to the Hospital is set forth in a series of warnings that, albeit they were being murmured in men's ears some four centuries ago, sound like the preaching of yesterday, and wholly and strongly apply to to-day.

-

The ways to ruin to the hospital-the asylum-the workhouse-are indeed manythe ancient moralist taught the country bumpkins of France, in short sharp sentences. People who have little money and wear silks and costly clothes go to the hospital. Old soldiers who have been spendthrifts through their youth, go to the hospital. People who put no order whatever in their expenditure, go to the hospital. Idle and neglectful folk who fear labour in the days of their youth, go emphatically to the hospital. Hand-to-mouth livers-to the hospital.

The moralist of the sixteenth century, it will If in thy soul there pulse not some faint responsive be seen suffices for the nineteenth. Those who

echo

Of that supernal everlasting hymn,

Thou'rt of the low earth, lowly,
Or livest life unholy,

Or dullest spiritual sense by carnal grossness dim.
Hear it, oh Poet, hear it! Oh, Preacher, give it

welcome!

Oh Loving Heart, receive it, deep in thine inmost
core,

The harmony of Angels, Glory, for ever Glory,
Glory and Peace and Joy, and Love for evermore!

THE HIGHWAY TO THE HOSPITAL.

fear labour in the days of their youth and take their way to the hospital or workhouse in their age, are a host among us-nay, there are those, and by the thousand, who toil with a will, and yet reach the hospital at last, and these are witnesses who tend to the confusion of the moralist. Hand-to-mouth livers are modern presences who need rebuking as sternly as the ne'er-do-wells of 1502. Science has smoothed the path of the thrifty in these latter days, so that the hand-to-mouth liver has not the excuses of his far-off predecessors. But we must leave the old moralist's line untouched. Thrift needs a rampart of maxims to prevent its How many years, and in how many ways, Quaker look from being blotted out by show has prudence been preached to man? Pru- and extravagance, and the silk wearer who dence, that gathers gold by grains out of the should sport worsted. The disorderly distrihardest life-rock! In a thousand forms, now butor of his resources is of our time, as the homely as buttermilk, and now arrayed in official gentlemen of Basinghall-street are here Oriental colours, the moralist has presented to testify. The moralist proceeds. Lovers of patient, even-tempered Prudence-the truest litigation-to the hospital. Whither are these friend a man can invite to be seated within his tending even now, with all our law reforms? gates. And how stands the work even now? People who engage in a business which they Centuries of warning, ages of woe; broad don't understand-to the hospital. Jacks of all shores strewed with the wrecks of countless trades and masters of none are of an ancient lives-illustrate the moralist's noble truth; race, and the blood has not died out yet. They and yet the highway to ruin is as a Derby-day are shabby citizens who never thrive apace, or road, compared with the country lane in which make an inch of progress in art, letters, or Dame Prudence of the sober skirt and home-industry. Families wherein there is much spun hose is leading the way.

In an old quarto, Gothic edition, the NEF DES TURNES, by SYMPHORIEN CHAMPIER, published

dancing, and in whose home many banquets are spread to the hospital. Who eat their corn in the green ear-to the hospital. Who

gamble till midnight, who burn wood and Cowley has turned the moralist's warning candles through the night, swill the wine of the sharply in a line: cellar, and sleep far into the morning-to the hospital. Corn is eaten in the green ear still: We sometimes the seed-crop is consumed. have gamblers who make the first pack after midnight. We are distinguished by roysterers who rob to entertain, and burn the candles and wood of other people throughout the dark

hours.

The rich poor man's emphatically poor. People who having but slender means, eat apart, the husband at one hour and the wife at another to the hospital. The moral precept is good to-day. The meal in common is the happy and economical meal. Who are lavish, living in the hope of a legacy-to the hospital. Who having a groat, make largesse of a shilling-to the hos pital. Who travel to distant markets or fairs, when they should be working, still only for a tenpence, and spend a shilling besides losing several days' work-to the hospital. To the hospital, and at a galloping pace, without overmuch sympathy from anybody!

The moralist sums up the travellers on the highway to the hospital, in a few sharp sentences. In the year 1502 a spade was empha

were dubbed folly. The moralist said finally to the ignorant country folk who get their literature out of the hawker's pack-all gourmands, swearers, blasphemers, idlers, sots, gipsy-rascals, are inheritors of the hospital. He who moralised four centuries back, could he wake in a Breton village to-morrow morning and listen to the commérage of the neighbourhood, would not find much work laid out for him in the way of amending his warnings. He would find the and capering, along the high-road to ruin. He old figures still tripping, stumbling, or singing

Who marry for love, having nothing to the hospital. We are now discussing on how many hundreds of pounds sterling per annum two young people of the middle class may assume the responsibilities and duties of matrimony. The prudent starting point is a moot question still, because the moralist's other warnings are neglected. The silks are worn, the feasting is held, the wood and coals are burning in the thousands of houses which are ruled in this land by what Mrs. Argus over the way says. Who are lazy dressers in the morning-totically called a spade: then, the faults of fools the hospital. Who work in holiday clothesto the hospital. On the other hand, people who allow their hangings to rot against their walls, and their linen to decay in their chests-to the hospital. Who becomes security for his fellowman-to the hospital. The moralist is hard in this unqualified condemnation of the friend who takes risk for his friend. The borrower, the lender, and the surety, are three individualities not to be dismissed in a few oracular words. In the main, our ancient moralist is right. The borrower, he possibly argued, is, as a rule, the thriftless man; ergo he will not meet his engagement, and his surety will have to pay But the trio who figure in a loan are interesting creatures who refuse to be lightly and curtly handled. Poor gentlemen and journeymen who indulge in kickshaws-to the hospital. People who leave their gardens, orchards, and vineyards unenclosed, when the fruit is ripe-to the hospital. These are cousins-german at least to the family that has pursued the unprofitable occupation of shutting the stable-door after the steed has been stolen, from father to son, through unnumbered generations.

The moralist opens some ways to the hospital which are severe, in the manner of Rochefoucault; as, for example, people who ask their neighbours often to break bread with them-to the hospital. Fathers and mothers who make over their worldly goods to their children, in the faith that these will honour and cherish them in their old age-to the hospital. This latter warning, we take it, was forced upon the moralist by the constant witnessing of the deeds of undutiful children, in the agricultural districts of old France, who were in the habit of grumbling over the old man and woman in the chimney corner, as incumbrances, since they were regular charges on the farm, and could not be got rid of.

Who let the horse's back become raw, for want of timely attention to the saddle-to the hospital. Who, grudging an outlay of ten crowns, lose one hundred-to the hospital.

would

pass

candles were burning all night. Should he peep
into the stable he would perceive the mare with
a raw back, and the pièce de conviction in the
shape of a ragged saddle on the harness-peg.
in his ear.
The silk of the farmer's daughter would rustle
His eye would fall upon the un-
protected orchard: and swinging upon a gate,
a narrow-browed churl would appear to him
still nibbling his grain in the green ear!

the house where the wood and

SIXTY-EIGHT IN ABYSSYNIA.

I AM mule Number Sixty-eight. How I acquired powers of observation and the gift of speech is my secret. If disclosed at all, the communication will be made to my own people only. The mules upon two legs will get no help from me.

My address, at birth, was Panticosa, on the Gallego, Pyrenees. My mother was a mare of great beauty owned by a Caballero, who farmed his own lands. My father was the greatest donkey in the South of France.

Here let me observe that the wretched little asses to be met with in the market towns of Spain, are not the fathers of that magnificent quadruped the Spanish mule. Our noble sires are a tall ancient race, whose blood has been kept blue since the days when Spain was conquered by the Moors Although our mothers are nearly all residents in Spain, our fathers are

citizens of Southern France, and periodically cross the Pyrenees to see their wives.

During the first year of my life, I did nothing but amuse myself. At three years old, I drew a light cart about the farm on which I was born, and carried the youngest daughter of my owner. I remained on the farm until nearly four years old, when my owner died, and I was sold to a Senor José for sixty dollars. José was a contrabandist, and employed me for two years in carrying French goods into Spain through the wildest depths of the frontier. I was present at no fewer than three fights between the contrabandists and the guardios civiles. The last of these was connected with some political movements of General Prim.

As my colour was peculiar, it was suggested that I might lead to the identification of the band; I was accordingly sold for Seville, where I carried goods from the railway station to some country villages. At the end of this time I was taken with four others to Gibraltar, and sold to some Englishmen for something over one hundred and ten dollars. Thence I was shipped for Abyssinia. They hoisted me on board by passing under my belly a piece of canvas bound with rope, and they put me into a stall only just broad enough to hold me. On each side were placed other mules, and more were put on a deck below; our faces were turned toward an opposite row of mules, our heels to the steamer's side. There were two hundred of us, who, after a Voyage of eleven days, were landed and led to the Alexandria railway station, and carried in twentyfour hours to a sandy plain called Suez, where with two thousand others I stayed for a week. Then I was put into another steamer like the first, but hotter, and six days after the commencement of my second sea voyage the steamer came to port in Abyssinia. Two visitors came to see us, one of whom was clearly endowed with more than ordinary discrimination.

"That is a remarkably fine animal," he observed, pointing in my direction.

"A little small," said his companion. "So much the better. A mule of fourteen hands will thrive where one of fifteen hands would lose condition. You can clear out your cargo this afternoon, captain. The naval officer has promised to send half a dozen native boats alongside; with five-and-twenty in each, two trips will finish the lot."

"Who will take charge of them when they land ?"

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At this question our visitors laughed. "Why," said one of them, "I suppose you will next ask me for a receipt for your cargo. All you have to do is to send the mules on shore. The Transport train may have detailed some men to catch them. If they have, they will get: most of them; if not, it will be nothing new. The beasts will have to take their chance. But mind you give them a big drink before they go into the boats. Water is scarce on shore."

way Station, that men vary as much in their colour as horses or mules. Two of these men occupied themselves in taking from me and my companions the canvas halters which had been placed on our heads before quitting the vessel.

"I do not believe," said one, "that the English are soldiers; for although I have seen more than one thousand five hundred Indian warriors land, and two thousand mules, I have only counted fifty white fighting men."

"They have," said another, "some white warriors at Aden, but they are above all devils at sea. It was only yesterday that they wished to tow thirteen of our sailing boats with that fire ship yonder, so that we might take two loads of stone to the pier which the Chinese are building, instead of the one load which we said was the most we could carry in twentyfour hours."

"Ridiculous. A child could see that when you fetched two loads instead of one, the pier would be built twice as fast, and you would only receive half the money."

Exactly. So thought the captain of the dhow. We agreed to let the white faces fasten the thirteen vessels together by ropes, one after the other, in a string: but when the steam-tug tried to pull us on, we had all anchored."

"Ha! ha! What did the fools do then ?" "First, they swore; then, they sent an interpreter to explain that if we allowed the fire ship to tug us, we should have no trouble with our sails. As if we had not known that! Then they swore again, and then we lighted our pipes; and then they became very quiet. One gets to be afraid of these English when they stop talking. After a little while, a boat with twelve men came from their fighting ship. The men had swords. A little boy about fourteen years of age was their chief. He stepped into the leading dhow, told his men to tie its captain to the mast, and-before Allah, it is true!-they flogged him."

"Did not the crew of his dhow fight for their captain ?"

"No, they said afterwards the Europeans looked so wicked they did not know what to do. Well, this abhorred boy went to the second and third dhows and flogged their captains also; mine was the fourth, but I and all the boats in the rear had our anchors up before the Europeans reached us. The boy only laughed at me as the tug pulled us on. Now here we are in shallow water. We must put out the mules of these unbelievers, but at any rate we have got most of their halters. What fools these English are, not to have put one of their men in our boat!"

I was now forced to walk up some planks which led from the bottom to the top edge of the craft. All around me was water. Three or four men struck at and pushed me from behind, until I half jumped, half was thrown, The crew of my boat consisted of six men, into the sea. I saw land about one hundred all blacks; indeed, I now discovered what I had yards to my front and swam for it. The water first begun to suspect at the Alexandria Rail-was very warm. I soon got to a shallow place

and walked on shore, where I laid down and rolled for ten minutes.

Since leaving Suez I had not had a chance of such a cleaning. I now looked about me. The blacks were shoving my friends out of the six dhows into the water. Most of them made for land, but a few were idiots and swam out to sea. Some of these found out their mistake, some were chased back by boats, three or four were drowned. I saw the bodies of six mules, three camels, and one horse at the brink of the sea close to where I landed. Several live camels were in the water, some standing, some sitting, and one drinking. I was afterwards informed that those who either stood long in the water, or drank much of it generally died, and that they had been in the first place frenzied by excessive thirst.

I noticed that about fifty light-brown men, who had each one or two halters, were catching the mules. Most of us had landed without halters, which of course made us more difficult to seize; but we were all so bewildered by novelty that we could easily have been caught had the men taken any trouble with their task; but there was only one, a little white fellow on a pony, who seemed to care a fig what became of us. He appeared to command the others, and had a long whip with which he beat the men more than the mules. The white fellow tried to noose the lash of his whip round my neck; but I had made up my mind to be free for that night, at least, so I kicked up my heels and bolted.

I then cantered forward a quarter of a mile, and found that I was on sandy land, upon which grew green bushes; and although I could munch the bushes, they were poor eating. Two camels whom I passed, were browsing upon them with great relish. I was, however, neither hungry nor thirsty, but glad to lie down upon firm land. About this time the sun set, and darkness followed almost immediately. I dropped into a deep slumber. When I awoke, a wind had sprung up, which blew before it large clouds of dust. Two jackals were sniffing at my hind legs. Watching my opportunity, I sprang on my legs, and jumped towards the larger of the pair; my fore-legs came down upon his neck. Before he could recover from his surprise, I bit one of his limbs nearly through, and then turning my heels upon him, broke his skull with repeated kicks. The excitement and exertion consequent upon being thus disturbed in my sleep, by vermin, roused me thoroughly. I stood erect, listening to the yelps of the packs of jackals who at night in this country invariably draw near the precincts of the quarters of us civilised creatures. Sometimes I heard the hoarser cry of a hyena. After a while, I again lay down, and slept till morning. At sunrise I felt hungry, and, judging that little food could be got in the open country, went down to look for my breakfast among the abodes of men. I walked quietly to the point where I saw most dwellings; this was close to the water, and

there were huge piles of most excellent provender. It was guarded by men who drove other animals away; but by judicious reconnoitering I discovered a large bag separated from the rest, which I knew, from its smell, to contain chopped straw. With my teeth and fore-foot I soon tore open the bag, and made a hearty meal; after this I essayed to quench my thirst, but found the sea to be undrinkable.

I addressed myself to two mules employed on the contents of the bag I had left. One of them, a huge grey Italian, intimated that there was drinking water at five minutes distance. I walked in the direction he had mentioned and saw over five hundred mules gathered around a dozen large iron tanks filled with water which ran into wooden troughs surrounding them.

The mules were chained together by threes or fives, each string being attended by one man. Now, every mule wanted to drink first and every muleteer wanted to have his animals watered first. The troughs, when full, would give room for forty mules to drink at a time, but as they were usually worked they would water only twenty, There was no sort of order kept; mules and men pressed indiscriminately towards the water; the string of mules got entangled; the fourfooted people bit and kicked, while the twofooted swore a good deal and fought a little. Besides the mules tied up and escorted by drivers, there were about a hundred who, like myself, were loose. Half of these were nearly mad with thirst, and, reckless of consequences, forced their way through the throng. A loose mule had a great advantage in not being tied to companions; on the other hand every man's hand was against him, and although he might, and often did, force his way to the troughs, the moment he dipped his mouth into the water, one or two nasty muleteers would strike at his nose with sticks. I have seen animals so thirsty that they would even when heavily belaboured on their nostrils, go on drinking; but unless a mule is really dying for want of water he cannot endure the pain of blows on so tender a place.

At length the captive mules grew fewer, and we who were free had a chance of getting com fortably to the troughs. About eighty of us were left, and the water was still flowing into one of the troughs at which about a dozen of us could have stood in comfort. But as we all struggled and fought to be helped first, a good deal was spilled, and when not more than half of us had drunk I heard one of the men on the tanks say, "I think we have been pumping long enough for these stray mules; let us go, mates, and look after our dinners." Shortly afterwards the water ceased to flow, and this was especially unlucky for me, as I had a few minutes before, by dint of biting, forced my way to the troughs, and with the aid of my heels had kept my position only long enough to lap up about half what I should have liked to drink. But there was no more water, so I trotted away to find food. Moving off in a hitherto unexplored direction, I had walked for a quarter of an hour when I saw several long rows of mules.

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