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       *       *       *       *       *




 [Illustration: THE WALLYPUG IN LONDON
                By G. E. FARROW.]




THE WALLYPUG IN LONDON




 [Illustration: HIS MAJESTY ARRIVES AT WINDSOR. SEE PAGE 143]




 THE
 WALLYPUG IN LONDON

 BY
 G. E. FARROW
 AUTHOR OF "THE WALLYPUG OF WHY," "THE MISSING PRINCE," ETC


 ILLUSTRATED BY ALAN WRIGHT


 METHUEN & CO.
 36 ESSEX STREET, W.C.
 LONDON
 1898




 CONTENTS

       CHANT ROYAL
       PREFACE
    I  HIS MAJESTY AND SUITE ARRIVE
   II  THE NEXT DAY'S ADVENTURES
  III  SUNDRY SMALL HAPPENINGS
   IV  LOST
    V  AN 'AT HOME' AND THE ACADEMY
   VI  THE JUBILEE
  VII  MORE ADVENTURES
 VIII  HIS MAJESTY IS INTERVIEWED
   IX  THE WALLYPUG'S OWN
    X  THE WALLYPUG GOES TO WINDSOR
   XI  HIS MAJESTY AT THE SEASIDE
  XII  THE DEPARTURE




CHANT ROYAL

ADDRESSED TO

HER MOST GRACIOUS MAJESTY QUEEN VICTORIA

IN COMMEMORATION OF 22ND JUNE, 1897


    VICTORIA! by grace of God our Queen,
        To thee thy children truest homage pay.
    Thy children! ay, for Mother thou hast been,
        And by a mother's love thou holdest sway.
    Thy greatest empire is thy Nation's heart,
    And thou hast chosen this the better part.
        Behold, an off'ring meet thy people bring;
        Hark! to the mighty world-sound gathering
    From shore to shore, and echoing o'er the sea,
        Attend! ye Nations while our paeans ring--
    Victoria's children sing her Jubilee.

    The grandest sight the world hath ever seen
        Thy kingdom offers. Clothed in fair array,
    The Majesty of Love and Peace serene,
        While hosts unnumbered loyalty display,
    Striving to show, by every loving art,
    The day for them can have no counterpart.
        Lo! sixty years of joy and sorrowing
        For Queen and People, either borrowing
    From other sympathy, in woe or glee,
        Hath knit their hearts to thine, wherefore they sing--
    Victoria's children sing her Jubilee.

    With royal dignity and gracious mien
        Thine high position thou hast graced alway;
    No cloud of discord e'er hath come between
        Thy nation and thyself; the fierce white ray
    That beats upon thy throne bids hence depart
    The faintest slander calumny can dart.
        Thy fame is dear alike to churl and king,
        And highest honour lies in honouring
    The Sovereign to whom we bend the knee;
        "God save the Queen," one strain unvarying--
    Victoria's children sing her Jubilee.

    What prophet, or what seer, with vision keen,
        Reading the message of a far-off day,
    The wonders of thy reign could have foreseen,
        Or known the story that shall last for aye?
    A page that History shall set apart;
    Peace and Prosperity in port and mart,
        Honour abroad, and on resistless wing
        A steady progress ever-conquering.
    Thy glorious reign, our glorious theme shall be,
        And gratitude in every heart upspring--
    Victoria's children sing her Jubilee.

    Behold, ye tyrants, and a lesson glean
        How subjects may be governed. Lo! the way
    A Woman teaches who doth ne'er demean
        Her office high. Hark! how her people pray
    For blessings on the head that doth impart
    So wise a rule. For them no wrongs do smart,
        No cruelties oppress, no insults sting,
        Nor does a despot hand exaction wring;
    Though governed, Britain's subjects still are free.
        Gaze then--ye unwise rulers wondering--
    Victoria's children sing her Jubilee.

                      ENVOY.

    Queen Mother, love of thee doth ever spring
    Within thy children's hearts, a priceless thing,
        Nor pomp nor state that falleth unto thee
    Can ever rival this grand carolling--
        Victoria's children sing her Jubilee.

                                         G. E. FARROW




 [Illustration: PREFACE]


MY DEAR LITTLE FRIENDS,

You will no doubt be surprised to find this book commencing with a
perfectly serious poem, and one which probably some of you will find
a little difficulty in understanding. When you have grown older,
however, and happen to look at this little book again, you will be
glad to be reminded of the historic event which the poem commemorates.
Now, about ourselves, when I asked in my last book, _The Missing
Prince_, for letters from my little readers, I had no idea that I had
so many young friends, and I can hardly tell you how delighted I have
been at receiving such a number of kind letters from all parts of the
world.

I do hope that I have answered everyone, but really there have been so
many, and if by mistake any should have been overlooked, I hope my
little correspondents will write again and give me an opportunity of
repairing the omission.

Such charming little letters, and all, I am happy to find, really
written by the children themselves, which makes them doubly valuable
to me.

And how funny and amusing some of them were to be sure! And what
capital stories some of you have told me about your pets.

Some pathetic incidents too; as, for instance, that of 'Shellyback,'
the tortoise, whose little owner wrote a few months after her first
letter to say that poor 'Shellyback' was dead.

I have been very happy to notice how fond you all seem of your pets,
for I have always found that children who make friends with animals
invariably have kind and good hearts. And the poor dumb creatures
themselves are always so ready to respond to any little act of
kindness, and are so grateful and affectionate, that I am sure it adds
greatly to one's happiness in life to interest oneself in them.

One of my correspondents, aged eight, has embarrassed me very much
indeed by suggesting that I should "wait for her till she grows up,"
as she should "so like to marry a gentleman who told stories." I hope
she didn't mean that I did anything so disgraceful; and besides, as it
would take nearly twenty-five years for her to catch up to me, she
_might_ change her mind in that time, and then what would become of
me.

Some of my letters from abroad have been very interesting. One dear
little girl at Darjeeling, in India, wrote a very nice descriptive
letter, and concluded by asking me to write "something about the
stars," and speaking of new stories brings me to another subject that
I wish to talk to you about.

You know that I spoke in my last book about writing a school story,
and one about animals. Well, when I found that so many of you wanted
to hear "more about the Wallypug," I was obliged to put these two
books aside in order to gratify your wishes. I hope that you will be
as interested in hearing about his Majesty this time as you were last.

You will be sure to notice that the pictures are by another artist,
but Mr. Harry Furniss has been away from England for some months, and
so it has been impossible for him to illustrate this volume. Some
other time, perhaps, Dorothy and he will give us more of their work;
but in the meantime Mr. Alan Wright has been very interested in
drawing pictures for this book, and I hope you will be pleased with
his efforts.

Now, about writing to me next time. When I asked you to address me
under care of my publishers, I did not realize that in the course of
business I might find it necessary to change them sometimes, and so to
avoid any possibility of confusion, will you please in future address
all letters to

    MR. G. E. FARROW,
          c/o Messrs. A. P. WATT & SON,
                Hastings House,
                      Norfolk Street, Strand.

What am I to do with all the beautiful Christmas and New Year's cards
which I have received? Will you be vexed if, after having enjoyed
receiving them as I have done so much, I give them to the poor little
children at the hospitals to make scrap books with? I happen to know
how much they value and appreciate gifts of this kind, and by allowing
me to bestow them in this way, your pretty presents will be giving a
double happiness.

Well, I must conclude this rather long letter now, or I shall be
accused of being tedious; but really it gives me almost as much
pleasure to write to you, as it does to receive your letters.
Good-bye. Don't forget that many of you have promised to write to me
again, and that I am always more than glad to welcome any new friends.

    Believe me, dear Children,
               Yours affectionately,
                        G. E. FARROW




 [Illustration: The Wallypug in London.]

CHAPTER I

HIS MAJESTY AND SUITE ARRIVE


A most extraordinary thing has happened; the Wallypug has been to
London! But there, I am forgetting that possibly you have never read
_The Wallypug of Why_, in which case you will, of course, know nothing
about his Majesty, and so I had better explain to you who, and what,
he is.

To begin with, then, he is a kind of king of a place called Why, which
adjoins the mysterious kingdom of Zum. I am afraid, though, that if
you searched your atlases for a very long while you might not find
either of these places, for the geographers are so undecided as to
their exact position that they have not shown them on the maps at all.
Some little friends of mine, named Girlie and Boy, have been there,
however, and I can tell you, if you like, the way they went. This is
the way to Why:

    Just go to bed and shut your eyes
      And count one hundred, one by one;
    Perhaps you'll find to your surprise
      That you're at Why when this is done.

I say _perhaps_, because this only happens when you have been
particularly good all day, and _sometimes_ boys and girls are not
quite as good as they--but there, I won't say what I was going to, for
I am quite sure that it would not apply to you. This is the way to
Zum:

    Not when the moon is at its full,
    But just a tiny boat-shaped thing,
    You _may_ see Pierrot sitting there
    And hear the little fellow sing.
    If so, just call him, and he'll come
    And carry you away to Zum.

There, now, I've told you the way to go to both places, so that, if
you wish to, you can go there whenever you please.

I am telling you all this because one day in the spring Girlie and
Boy, who live in another part of London, came to see me, and we had
been talking about these things for about the hundredth time, I should
think: for these children are never tired of telling me of all the
strange things which happened to them when they journey to these
wonderful places. In fact they were just arguing as to which was the
most interesting place to go to, Why or Zum, when my housekeeper, Mrs.
Putchy, came to the door with the unwelcome news that the carriage had
come for my little friends, and that it was time to say good-bye.
After they had gone I sat staring into the fire wondering where Why
could be, and if there was really such a person as the Wallypug, when
my little dog Dick, who had been lying on the rug before the fire,
suddenly jumped up, and barking excitedly, ran to the other end of the
study, where a picture, which I had bought the day before at an
auction sale, stood leaning against the wall. Now this picture had
been sold very cheap, because no one could tell at all what it was
about, it was so old and dusty, and the colours were so dark and
indistinct. I had bought it hoping that it might prove valuable,
and there it stood till it could be sent to be cleaned and restored.
Imagine my surprise then, when, on following Dick across the study, I
discovered that the colours in the picture had all become bright, and
were working one into the other in the most remarkable way, red
running into green, and blue into yellow, while a little patch of
black in the centre of the picture was whirling round and round in
quite a distracting manner. What could it all mean? I stared and
wondered, till, out of the confusion, there gradually grew shapes
which bore some resemblance to human beings, and, presently, I could
recognize quite distinctly, first a young man in knee breeches,
smiling in a particularly self-satisfied way, and escorting a large
fish, who was walking upright, with slippers on his tail, and who
wore a waistcoat and necktie. Then an amiable-looking old gentleman,
carrying a wand, who was followed by a curious little person, wearing
a crown and carrying an orb and sceptre. A particularly stiff and
wooden-looking soldier stood at the back of this strange group. Judge
of my amazement when, quite as a matter of course, the whole party
deliberately stepped out of the picture into the room, and, before I
could realize what had happened, the old gentleman with the wand came
forward with a flourish and an elaborate bow, and announced:

"A-hem! his Majesty the Wallypug of Why and suite."

 [Illustration: WITH SLIPPERS ON HIS TAIL]

I was so astonished that for the moment I could not think what to say,
but at last I managed to stammer, as I made a low bow to the
Wallypug:

"I am delighted to make your Majesty's acquaintance."

The Wallypug smiled very affably, and held out his hand.

"I have come up for the Jubilee, you know," he said.

"_We've_ come up, you mean to say, Wallypug," corrected the old
gentleman with the wand, frowning somewhat severely. "I am the
Wallypug's professional adviser," he continued. "I am called the
Doctor-in-Law--allow me to introduce the rest of our party. This," he
went on, bringing the young man with the self-satisfied smile forward,
"is the Jubilee Rhymester from Zum; he hopes to become a minor poet in
time. And this," indicating the wooden-looking soldier, "is Sergeant
One-and-Nine, also from Zum." Here the Doctor-in-Law took me aside and
whispered in my ear, "Slightly cracked, crossed in love; speaks very
peculiarly; capital chap though." Then crossing to where the Fish was
standing, he said, "And this is A. Fish, Esq., the celebrated lecturer
on the 'Whichness of the What as compared with the Thatness of the
Thus.' He desired to accompany us here in order to find material
for a new lecture which he is preparing upon the 'Perhapness of the
Improbable.' He's awfully clever," he whispered impressively.

 [Illustration: "HIS MAJESTY THE WALLYPUG"]

"I'm sure I'm delighted to see you all," I said, shaking hands with
each one till I came to the Fish, who held out a fin. "Er-er-how do
you do?" I stammered, somewhat taken aback by this strange proceeding.

"Quide well with the egscebtiod of a slide cold id by head," said the
Fish. "I'b subjecd to theb, you doe. It's beig id the water so butch,
I fadcy," and he _smiled_.

I don't know if you have ever seen a fish smile, but if not I may tell
you that it is a very curious sight.

"I suppose you can manage to put us up here for a month or two?"
calmly suggested the Doctor-in-Law after a pause.

"Dear me," I exclaimed in alarm, "I don't think my housekeeper could
possibly--"

"Why not ask her?" suggested the Doctor-in-Law, touching the bell.

A moment or two afterwards a knock at the door announced that Mrs.
Putchy was there.

"Oh, Mrs. Putchy," I said, stepping just outside, "these gentlemen,
er--that is to say, his Majesty the Wallypug of Why and suite, have
honoured me with a visit, and I am anxious if possible to offer them
such hospitality as my poor home affords. Do you think that we could
manage anyhow to find room for them, for a few days at any rate?"

Now Mrs. Putchy is a very remarkable woman, and I have never known her
to show the slightest surprise at anything, and, so far from seeming
alarmed at the prospect of having to entertain such notable visitors,
she seemed positively delighted.

"His Majesty of Why, sir? How charming! Of course we must do our best,
and how fortunate that I put on my best gown to-day, isn't it? Dear
me, and shall I be presented to his Majesty?"

"Certainly, Mrs. Putchy, if you wish it," I said. "In fact, if you
will call General Mary Jane, I will introduce you both, as you
represent my entire household."

Mrs. Putchy disappeared, returning almost immediately, followed by the
servant, General Mary Jane, with her mouth wide open, and accompanied
by the cat, who rejoices in the extraordinary name of Mrs. Mehetable
Murchison. These members of my household were duly presented to the
Wallypug. Mrs. Putchy made her curtsey with great dignity, but General
Mary Jane was so overcome at the thought of being presented to royalty
that she fell flat on her hands and knees in her humility, while Mrs.
Mehetable Murchison, realizing, no doubt, the truth of the old saying
that "a cat may look at a king," went up and sharpened her claws on
the Wallypug's legs in the most friendly manner possible.

It was when the cat caught sight of A. Fish, Esq., that she completely
lost her presence of mind, and with arched back and bristling fur
glared at him in amazement.

"Priddy pussy, cub alog thed," said the Fish, stooping down and trying
to stroke her with one of his fins; but Mrs. Mehetable Murchison, with
a startled glance, tore out of the room, showing every sign of alarm.

"And she's so fond of fish too, as a rule, ain't she, mum?" remarked
General Mary Jane, who had somewhat overcome the awe with which she
had at first regarded the presence of royalty.

"Fod of fish?" repeated A. Fish, Esq., inquiringly. "What do you
mead?"

"Why, you see, sir," explained Mrs. Putchy, "we often have fish for
dinner--er--that is to say--er--a-hem!"

 [Illustration: "PRIDDY PUSSY"]

The Fish was glaring at her in a horrified way, and Mrs. Putchy had
become quite nervous.

"Let's change the subject," suggested the Doctor-in-Law, to our great
relief. "The most important question for the moment is, where are we
all going to sleep?"

This gave Mrs. Putchy an opportunity for exercising her wonderful
ability for management, and after arranging for the Wallypug to have
the spare bedroom, and the Doctor-in-Law to have my room, I was to
have a bed made up in the study, while the Jubilee Rhymester was to
sleep in the attic, One-and-Nine was to have a box under the stairs,
and there only remained A. Fish, Esq., to dispose of.

"There is the bathroom, mum," suggested General Mary Jane brilliantly;
"we could put a lid on the bath and make up a bed there."

"Bedder sdill, fill id with wadter, ad thed I could sleeb _in_ id,"
suggested the Fish.

"Oh yes, of course!" said Mrs. Putchy, "and now I must go and see
about the supper." And, with a low curtsey to the Wallypug, the
admirable little woman hurried out, followed by General Mary Jane, who
gave a nervous little bob when she reached the door.

They had scarcely disappeared before One-and-Nine came up to me and
whispered:

"I am muchly impressionated by that lady with the most militaryish
name who has just gone out. Can you kindly inform me is she
detached?"

"Detached?" I inquired in bewilderment. "What ever do you mean?"

"If a person is not attached to anyone else, they are detached, I
suppose, are they not?" said One-and-Nine rather impatiently.

"Well, if you put it that way, I suppose they are," I replied,
laughing. "You mean, has she a sweetheart? Well, really I don't know.
I have an idea though that Mrs. Putchy does not allow followers."

"Then I shall considerize my prospectuousness with great hopefulosity!"
remarked the soldier with considerable dignity, walking back to the
Wallypug's chair.

"What does he say?" asked the Jubilee Rhymester. "He is a little bit
cracked, you know. Could you make out what he was driving at?"

"Oh, yes, I could understand within a little what he meant," I
replied. "He seems to have fallen in love with General Mary Jane at
first sight, from what I can gather."

"Really! Dear me! He is always doing that sort of thing, do you know,
and he generally asks me to write poems for him when he gets into that
state. I have written as many as 137 odes in one month on his behalf."

"Good gracious," I replied, "and does he pay you well for them?"

"Pay me!" exclaimed the Jubilee Rhymester, staring at me in surprise.
"Of course not. Do people ever get paid for writing poetry?"

"Why, yes, to be sure they do," I answered.

"Well, I've never heard of such a thing in all my life," said the
Jubilee Rhymester; "I always thought that poets had to pay to have
their verses used at all, and that that was why they were always so
poor while they were alive. Of course I knew that people sometimes
made a fuss about them after they were dead, but I have never heard
of such a thing as a live poet being paid for his work."

"Nonsense," I replied; "I believe that quite a lot of money is
sometimes paid by the magazines and other papers for poems and
verses."

"Well, I am delighted to hear it," said the Jubilee Rhymester, "and I
shall certainly start writing to-morrow. I have no doubt whatever that
I shall make my fortune before I go back to Zum."

Shortly after this Mrs. Putchy announced that supper was served, and
a little later my guests retired to rest, being thoroughly tired out
with their long journey. I sat up in my study a little while longer to
smoke a pipe, but was just thinking of going to bed when there was a
tap at the door and the Doctor-in-Law entered.

"I say, I thought I had better come and arrange with you about money
matters," he said; "I didn't like to mention such things before the
others. Now then," he continued, "how much are you going to pay us for
staying with you?"

"Pay _you_!" I gasped. "What on earth do you mean?"

"Well, you see, it will be a great thing for you to have such
distinguished visitors, don't you know, and you ought to be quite
willing to pay liberally for the honour," said the Doctor-in-Law,
smiling amiably.

Now Girlie had told me what a greedy, avaricious person the
Doctor-in-Law really was, despite his benevolent appearance, but this
cool cheek almost took my breath away. I was determined, however, to
let him see at once that I was not to be imposed upon, so I said as
firmly as I could, "Now, look here, Mr. Doctor-in-Law, please understand
once and for all, that as you were all so kind to my little friend
Girlie when she was at Why, I am quite willing to entertain his Majesty
the Wallypug, and the rest of you, to the very best of my ability, but
as for paying you for being here, the idea is absurd--impossible!"

 [Illustration: "ID QUIDE GAVE BE A TURN"]

Just then a terrific hullabaloo in the passage caused us both to run
to the door. We could hear that the noise proceeded from the bathroom,
and, hurrying to the door, we found A. Fish, Esq., sitting up in the
water shouting for help, while Mrs. Mehetable Murchison and a whole
group of her feline friends were out on the tiles, glaring through the
window.

"Dear be, dear be," panted the Fish, when he saw us, "I'b so
frighteded, just look at all those cats. I had beed to sleeb ad was
just dreabig that sobeone was sayig, 'Mrs. Behetable Burchison is _so_
fod of fish, and we ofted have fish for didder,' whed I woke ub and
saw all those horrible cats lookig id ad the widdow; id quide gave be
a turn. Do drive theb away please."

We soon did this, and, pulling down the blinds, we left A. Fish, Esq.,
to his dreams and soon afterwards retired to rest ourselves.




CHAPTER II

THE NEXT DAY'S ADVENTURES


When I entered the breakfast room the next morning I found that the
Wallypug and the Doctor-in-Law had been up for some time, and were
both gazing out of the window with the greatest of interest.

"I hope your Majesty slept well," I remarked to the Wallypug as I
approached them.

"Very well indeed, thank you," he replied smilingly. "The
Doctor-in-Law and myself have just been saying that we are sure to
have an enjoyable visit here. We have been greatly interested in the
man-machines going past. We have never seen anything like them
before."

"The man-machines!" I exclaimed, puzzled to know whatever he could
mean.

"Yes, the men with wheels instead of legs, you know."

"Oh, you mean the bicyclists," I replied, laughing. "Have you really
never seen any before?"

"No, indeed," replied his Majesty. "Are they born with wheels on, or
do they grow afterwards?"

I laughed, and fortunately just then the youngster opposite, who
always rides to school on his bicycle, came out of doors wheeling his
machine, and I was able to explain to the Wallypug the principle upon
which they worked.

"Dear me; the Doctor-in-Law told me that the machinery was part of the
man, but now I see that it is separate. And he charged me sixpence for
the information too," he complained, looking reproachfully at the
Doctor-in-Law.

"Charged you sixpence!" I cried.

"Yes," replied the poor Wallypug. "He offered to tell me all about
them for sixpence, and as I was really very curious to know I gave it
to him, and then he informed me that they were a peculiar race of
people who came from Coventry, and who were all born with wheels
instead of legs."

"Take your old sixpence then, if you are going to make all that fuss
about it," said the Doctor-in-Law, crossly, throwing the coin down on
the table and walking out of the room in a huff. "I'm sure I did read
somewhere that they came from Coventry," he added, popping his head in
at the door and then slamming it violently after him.

The boy opposite was still riding up and down the road, and I made up
my mind that although I had never spoken to him before, I would ask
him to let the Wallypug examine his bicycle more closely.

"With pleasure," he replied, raising his hat politely to the Wallypug,
when I had explained who he was; "and if his Majesty would like to try
it he is quite welcome to do so."

The Doctor-in-Law's curiosity had so far overcome his ill-humour that,
when he saw us talking to the boy, he came forward and offered to help
the Wallypug to mount.

"I really don't think he had better," I said, "he might damage the
machine."

"Oh no, he won't hurt it, I'm sure," said the boy generously; and so
with our united assistance the Wallypug got on to the bicycle, and
after a few preliminary wobblings started off in fine style. Faster
and faster he went, clinging desperately to the handle-bars, till we,
who were running beside him, could no longer keep pace with him.

 [Illustration: THE START]

"I can't stop," we heard him shout; and a moment later he charged
straight at a large stone and half a brick which lay in the middle of
the roadway.

Poor Wallypug! The sudden impact threw him right over the handle-bars,
and he landed in a huddled heap on his hands and knees in the gutter.
The machine flew in half, and the front portion careered madly away
by itself till stopped by the kerb.

We hurried up to his Majesty to discover if he was much hurt, but,
with the exception of a few scratches on his hands and knees and a
thorough shaking, he seemed to have come off pretty well.

 [Illustration: THE FINISH]

"I suppose we can't stick it together again?" he inquired, gazing
ruefully at the broken bicycle, and I was obliged to tell him that
there was not much chance of our doing so. The boy to whom it belonged
bravely made the best of the matter, especially when I told him that
the next half-holiday he had I would take him to Holborn to choose
another one in its place.

And when I discovered that he had a half-holiday that very afternoon,
it was arranged that General Mary Jane should order a carriage at the
livery stable, and that we should all drive to the city after
luncheon.

The Wallypug, after a good wash and a hearty breakfast, went to his
room to lie down for an hour or two to recover from the effects of his
accident, and I was just answering my morning letters when there was a
knock at the study door, and the Rhymester entered.

 [Illustration: HIPPETY-HOPPETY-PLOP]

"I sat up most of the night writing poetry," he remarked, "and I have
just brought you one or two specimens. The first one is called 'The
Ode of a Toad.' Perhaps I had better read it to you. My writing is
rather peculiar," and he began as follows:

THE ODE OF A TOAD.

    There was once an old toad who lived under a tree,
            Hippety hop--Flippety flop,
    And his head was as bald as bald could be,
    He was deaf as a post and could hardly see,
    But a giddy and frivolous toad was he,
            With his hippety-hoppety-plop.

    And he gambolled and danced on the village green,
            Hippety hop--Flippety flop,
    In a way that had never before been seen,
    Tho' he wasn't so young as once he had been,
    And the people all wondered whate'er he could mean,
            With his hippety-hoppety-plop.

    But the old chap kept bobbing about just the same,
            Hippety hop--Flippety flop,
    Till everyone thought he _must_ make himself lame,
    And not a soul ever could find out his aim,
    In keeping up such a ridiculous game,
            As his hippety-hoppety-plop.

    Some said he was mad, tho' as mild as a dove,
            Hippety hop--Flippety flop,
    And as the result of a push or a shove,
    Was a little bit cracked in the storey above,
    _But I fancy myself the old boy was in love_,
            With his hippety-hoppety-plop.

"There! What do you think of it?" he asked when he had finished.

"Well, candidly, I'm afraid not very much," I replied; "and what on
earth do you call it an ode for?"

"Why, you see, ode went so well with the word toad. I was going to
call it 'Ode to a Toad,' but it isn't _to_ a toad at all, though it's
about a toad. Ah! by the bye, I might call it 'A Toad's Ode,' mightn't
I? I think that sounds very jolly." He altered the title in pencil.

 [Illustration: "I LOVE BUT THEE"]

"I have another which I think you will say is very touching." And
after getting his handkerchief out in case he should be moved to
tears, he began:

THE BALLADE OF A BUN.

    Don't talk to me of "Sally Lunn,"
      Or toasted tea-cake nice and hot,
    I do not care for either one
      A single solitary jot;
    My heart is fixed and changeth not,
      In all the world--whate'er I see,
    And rich or poor--whate'er my lot--
      Oh! penny bun, I love but thee.

    For thy dear sake all cakes I shun
      Smeared o'er with jam. No apricot
    Or greengage tart my heart hath won;
      Their sweetness doth but cloy and clot.
    What marmalade in fancy pot
      Or cream meringue, though fair it be,
    Thine image e'er can mar or blot?
      Oh! penny bun, I love but thee.

    I vowed to cherish thee, or none
      (Such love thy simple charms begot),
    When first I saw thee, precious one;
      And now to some sweet lonely spot,
    Some shady dell or mossy grot,
      Come let us hasten, you and me,
    And I will eat you like a shot;
      Oh! penny bun, I love but thee.

                   _Envoy._

    Small boys or girls that homeward trot
      From school in time for early tea,
    This moral ne'er must be forgot:
      "Love penny buns, and they'll love thee."

"Isn't it affecting?" he inquired, wiping his eyes when he had
finished.

"Well, perhaps I didn't quite appreciate the pathos of it as I might
have done," I answered, trying hard not to laugh. "You see I was
paying so much attention to the scansion. I find that you have altered
the refrain in the Envoy. Surely that's not correct, is it?"

"Oh, you are a great deal too particular," remarked the Rhymester
crossly. "Why, I should think from the Doctor-in-Law's description of
a critic that you must be one."

"What did he say a critic was?" I asked.

"Why, he said a critic was a person who found fault with another, for
not doing what he was unable to do himself. And he charged me
fourpence three-farthings for the information, and as I only had
fourpence halfpenny I have to pay him the odd farthing when I sell
some of my poems. Can you tell me how I can set to work about it?"

"Well, I hardly know," I replied, "unless you send them to the editors
of the various magazines. They may take them, but you must not be
disappointed if some of them are rejected. You see they cannot
possibly print everything that is sent to them."

There were several magazines in the study, and I suggested that the
Rhymester should make a list of the addresses of the various editors,
and he was busy about that till luncheon time.

At half-past two the carriage came to the door, and goodness only
knows what General Mary Jane must have told the livery stable people
about the Wallypug, for, evidently anxious to send an equipage worthy
of royalty, they had painted an enormous monogram in gold on the sides
of the carriage, while the coachman was resplendent in blue plush and
gold lace, with silk stockings and a powdered wig.

 [Illustration: "EQUIPAGEOUS GRANDIOSITY"]

The Wallypug was delighted when he saw this elaborate turn-out, and
so were the others, for I overheard One-and-Nine murmuring something
about "equipageous grandiosity," as he climbed up to the seat beside
the coachman. When the Wallypug, the Doctor-in-Law, A. Fish, Esq.,
and the Rhymester, were seated, there was no room left for the boy
and myself, so we followed behind in a modest dog-cart, which was
hurriedly procured from the livery stable. Many were the wondering
glances bestowed upon the carriage, with its somewhat remarkable
burden, as we drove along through Kensington to the Gardens. And
everywhere our appearance was hailed with enthusiasm, people being
evidently under the impression that the Wallypug was one of the royal
guests invited to the Jubilee festivities. Who could he be? That was
decidedly the question which everyone was asking, and I could not
quite determine who was causing the greater sensation, the Wallypug or
A. Fish, Esq. These two individuals, however, comported themselves
with the calmest dignity, only the Doctor-in-Law seemed flurried by
the attention which they attracted, and smiled and bowed right and
left, whether the people took any notice of him or not.

As we approached Hyde-Park corner attention was diverted from the
Wallypug's carriage by the fact that _another_ royal equipage had
entered the Park gates; and as the Princess passed us, an amused
glance and a whispered conversation with the other occupant of the
carriage showed that the Wallypug's extraordinary party had not
escaped Her Royal Highness's attention.

After going once round the Park we went out at the Marble Arch and
along Oxford Street to Holborn, our progress through the crowded
streets everywhere attracting the most excited interest. And when
we stopped before one of the large bicycle _depots_ in Holborn the
crowd around the carriage was so large that the policeman had quite a
difficulty in preventing a block in the traffic. Our business was soon
transacted, and, having secured an excellent machine for the boy in
place of the one which his Majesty had damaged in the morning, we
drove back to Kensington without further adventure.

The Wallypug's curiosity, however, was so awakened by what he had seen
that, as soon as we had been refreshed by a cup of afternoon tea, he
suggested that we should go out for a walk; accordingly the whole
party proceeded to Kensington Gardens, followed by a curious and
somewhat derisive crowd of small boys, who would insist upon advising
the Wallypug to "get his hair cut." Now, I happened to know, from what
Girlie had told me about her adventures in Why, that the Wallypug,
though a kind of king, had to do as his people directed and not as he
liked, and that when he had presented a petition in Parliament to be
allowed to have his hair cut, they had divided upon the subject, and
so he had only been allowed to have _half_ of it cut, and as the long
half had by this time grown very long indeed, he certainly did look
rather remarkable; that was no excuse though for the street boys'
rudeness, and his Majesty very wisely took no notice of them. A. Fish,
Esq., came in for the greatest amount of attention, and when a few
drops of rain began to fall, and he put up an umbrella for fear that
he should get wet, the crowd became so excited that the Doctor-in-Law
wisely suggested that a return should be made. His Majesty, however,
was bent upon sight-seeing, and so the party separated, the
Doctor-in-Law, A. Fish, Esq., and One-and-Nine going home, while the
rest of us continued our walk. When we reached the Gardens, the
Wallypug was greatly interested in seeing the palace where the Queen
was born, and said that he should certainly petition his Parliament to
allow him to have soldiers walk up and down before the gates of his
palace, like those which he saw here. He admired greatly Princess
Louise's statue of the Queen, which stands in front of the palace,
and said he couldn't imagine where-ever they could have got all the
white sugar from to make it with, and I think that he was inclined to
disbelieve me when I told him that it was not made of sugar at all,
but of white marble; for he said that if that were the case he
couldn't think why they wanted to put such high railings around it, as
no one would wish to carry away a marble statue of that size, whereas,
if it were sugar, as he suggested, why, of course, the railings were
there to prevent the children from climbing up and breaking off little
pieces to eat.

 [Illustration: FOR FEAR HE SHOULD GET WET]

The Round Pond and the little model ships interested His Majesty most
of all though, I fancy, and he spent quite a long time admiring them,
until, while assisting a small boy to get his ship ashore, he had the
misfortune to slip into the water himself, and had to be fished out
with the assistance of a boathook.

His Majesty certainly did not look either dignified or regal as he
stood on the bank saturated with water, and his royal robes clinging
about him in the most woe-begone manner--and as the crowd had greatly
increased, I was very glad to get the poor Wallypug into a cab and
drive home.

[Illustration: HIS MAJESTY HAS AN ACCIDENT]

On our way there, the Rhymester, being very much afraid of getting his
clothes wet, sat in the furthest corner of the cab and amused himself
by writing a verse on the subject of his Majesty's misfortune, which
read somehow like this:

    "King George I've heard is King of Greece,
       But since this luckless slipping,
     The Wallypug I do declare
       Should be the King of _Dripping_."

I think his Majesty thought it rather unkind of the Rhymester to make
fun of him in this way, but before he had time to think much about
the matter, we had arrived at our destination, and to my great
surprise I could see a vast crowd collected at the doors of the
building in which my flat is situated.




CHAPTER III

SUNDRY SMALL HAPPENINGS


Whatever could it all mean? The Doctor-in-Law stood on the steps,
calling out, "Walk up, walk up, ladies and gentlemen, and see the
Talking Fish," while large posters were pasted on the walls, bearing
the words, "Admission Sixpence" and "One day only."

The Commissionaire who usually stands at the door was looking very
surprised and angry, while the page boy was grinning all over his
face. Whatever was happening? I hastily paid the cabman, and followed
by the Wallypug made my way through the crowd to the entrance.

"Admission sixpence each," said the Doctor-in-Law, holding out his
hand.

 [Illustration: "WALK UP, WALK UP, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN"]

"What do you mean?" I replied, "and what is all this crowd doing
here?"

"Admission sixpence each!" repeated the Doctor-in-Law stubbornly, not
taking the least notice of my questions, and holding his wand across
the doorway so that I could not get in.

"Nonsense!" I cried; "I'm not going to pay to go into my own house."

"Pay for the Wallypug then and I'll let you in free," said the little
man insinuatingly.

"I shall do nothing of the sort," I cried, pushing past him and
hurrying up the stairs.

To my surprise I found my rooms occupied by strangers. Sergeant
One-and-Nine was reciting some of the Rhymester's poems in the dining
room to three deaf old ladies, two of whom had ear trumpets, while A.
Fish, Esq., was holding a kind of _levee_ in my study, seated in a
chair placed on the writing table, and was surrounded by an admiring
crowd of people who were asking all sorts of questions.

Mrs. Putchy met me at the door.

"Oh, sir!" she exclaimed. "I'm so glad you've come home. I haven't
known what to do with all these people."

"But what does it all mean, Putchy?" I inquired. "What are they doing
here at all?"

"Why, you see, sir!" said Mrs. Putchy, "Mr. Doctor-in-Law found that
A. Fish, Esq., was attracting a good deal of attention out of doors,
and he thought that it would be a capital idea to have a kind of show
here and charge sixpence admission to see him; and if there's been
one, I'm sure there's been a hundred people up here this afternoon.
The remarks they've been making too, and the questions they've been
asking. Why, one old lady, sir, wanted to know how much you paid A.
Fish, Esq., a week, and if I was _quite_ sure that you gave him enough
to eat. They've broken three chairs too, and that little Venetian
glass vase that stood on the bracket in the corner. And just now I
caught some little boys tearing pictures out of one of those
illustrated books you brought home last week."

Here was a pretty state of affairs. The strangers had by this time
left A. Fish, Esq., and had collected around the poor Wallypug, who
had been waiting in his wet clothing in the hall, and I was obliged
to politely but firmly insist upon them at once leaving the house,
telling them that their money would be returned at the door.

"I should think so, indeed," said one angry-looking stout lady. "Why,
the whole thing is a fraud and you ought to be thoroughly ashamed of
yourself. Talking fish indeed! I don't believe he's a fish at all--at
any rate, not what I call a 'fish,'" and she flounced down the stairs
only to return a moment or two afterwards to say, "I thought you said
that we were to have our money back."

"So you are, madam," I replied.

"Well, why don't you see that we get it then? That man downstairs
refuses to give me any money. The whole thing is a swindle. But I
don't mean to be defrauded in this way, I can tell you."

I went downstairs and told the Doctor-in-Law that he must at once
return everyone their money, and this after a great deal of grumbling
he did, while the Commissionaire and the page boy tore down the
posters outside the door at my request.

I explained to the Doctor-in-Law that this sort of thing must not
occur again, and made him promise that he would never again use my
rooms as a place in which to hold a show.

I really felt rather annoyed about it, for I could not imagine
whatever the neighbours would think of me for permitting such a scene
to take place in my rooms, but it evidently was useless now to say
anything more about it.

The next morning, despite the wetting which the Wallypug had received
at the Round Pond, his thoughts still ran upon boating, and nothing
would satisfy his Majesty but that he should go for a row. I suggested
Richmond as the best place to start from, and so we drove over
Hammersmith Bridge and across Barnes Common.

Arrived at Richmond we had no difficulty in securing a nice boat.

"I'll row for one," said his Majesty.

"And I for another," said the Rhymester.

"Very well then," I replied. "Perhaps the Doctor-in-Law will steer,
and so we will manage very nicely."

Quite a large crowd had collected to see us start, and perhaps that is
what made the Wallypug so nervous; as it was, as soon as we pushed
off, his Majesty fell backwards with his feet sticking up above the
seat, while the Rhymester stuck one oar deep down into the water and
pulled it with all his might, while the other flourished about in the
air.

 [Illustration: HIS MAJESTY FELL BACKWARDS]

The Doctor-in-Law's idea of steering consisted in pulling first one
string and then the other, and so we did not get along very well just
at first.

When the Wallypug had picked himself up from the bottom of the boat,
however, and the Rhymester and he made another attempt, I think we
should have got along fairly well if the Doctor-in-Law, in trying
to get out of the way of a passing boat, had not steered us into the
bank, where we stuck fast in the mud till someone on the footpath very
kindly pushed us off again. After that I thought it best to take the
oars myself, and his Majesty steered under my direction. In this way
we managed to get a little way past Teddington Lock by luncheon time,
and having found an _eyot_ with no one on it we went ashore and
unpacked the hamper of good things which we had brought with us.

It was a beautiful day, and I think that we all enjoyed the picnic
immensely. I know that I did for one, and so, I think, did his
Majesty, for after the meal he laid aside his crown and royal robes
and made himself comfortable on the grass under the trees, and looked
thoroughly happy with a big cigar in his mouth.

 [Illustration: HIS MAJESTY ENJOYS HIMSELF]

A. Fish, Esq., busied himself in preparing notes for his lecture on
the "Perhapness of the Improbable," and the Doctor-in-Law, having
piled all the cushions in the boat at one end, threw himself upon them
and read the newspaper.

In this way the afternoon passed very comfortably, and the Rhymester,
after scribbling upon several pieces of paper, came and read to me a
poem which had been inspired by our beautiful surroundings; he called
it

SOUL YEARNINGS.

    The water's as wet as wet can be,
      And the trees, and the grass, are green,
    While the little birds sing and the fishes swim;
      'Tis a most delightful scene.

    It makes me yearn for I don't know what,
      To come from I don't know where,
    And take me away to the thingummybob
      And the what-you-may-call-'ems there;

and he told me that beautiful scenery always affected him in that way.

 [Illustration: AN UNFORTUNATE VOLLEY]

It was now time for us to be thinking about getting back, especially
as I should have to do all of the rowing. So we got into the boat
again, and I rowed back as far as Twickenham, where we stopped at
Eel-pie Island to have some tea. While we were waiting for it to be
prepared, we began a game of tennis, but were obliged to leave off, as
an unfortunate volley of the Doctor-in-Law's caught the Wallypug on
the nose, and so his Majesty declined to play any more.

We persuaded him to join us at cricket, though, having found some
stumps and a bat and ball in an outhouse on the Island, and got on
very well for some time till, at a shout of "out, leg before wicket,"
the Wallypug (who had caught the ball very nicely on his shin) fell
forward on to the Doctor-in-Law, crushing his hat well over his eyes,
and ruffling his temper considerably.

 [Illustration: "OUT"]

In fact, I was very glad that tea was announced just then, for I
feared that there was going to be a bother, and, as it was, the
Doctor-in-Law kept scowling at his Majesty very fiercely.

"I shall make him pay for it," declared the little man, and, during
tea, which we had at wicker tables by the river's edge, he was busy
making out an account, which later he handed with great solemnity to
the Wallypug. His Majesty apparently could not understand it, and
passed it on to me. On examination, I found it to be worded as
follows:

 HIS MAJESTY THE WALLYPUG OF WHY,
   In account with
     THE DOCTOR-IN-LAW.

 To damage of one hat,              L0  7  6
  " Physical injury,                 0  2  0
  " Moral deterioration,            15  6  9
                                   ---------
                                   L22 17  8
  " 3 per cent. discount for cash,   3  6  2
                                   ---------
                                   L26  4 11

"What do you mean by moral deterioration?" demanded the Wallypug.

"Oh, I don't know. Same as other people do, I suppose," said the
Doctor-in-Law. "It's always charged now, I believe. I read something
about it in the papers this afternoon."

"But the addition is all wrong," I expostulated.

"No, it isn't," replied the Doctor-in-Law, rudely snatching the
document from me and putting it into his pocket-book, "and if it
is, it's nothing to do with you. I shall charge it in our expenses,
which the people of Why have undertaken to pay, so there." And the
avaricious little fellow ran off to the boat, which we afterwards
found he had been letting out on hire to small boys at a penny a
head.

The return journey was accomplished without any remarkable incidents,
and on reaching home I found a very pressing invitation from Girlie's
mother for the whole party to attend her "At Home" the next day.

It appears that this lady had called upon me while we were out, and
Mrs. Putchy had told her of the Wallypug's arrival.

His Majesty was good enough to say that he should be delighted to
accept, and so I wrote off at once to say that she might expect us.




CHAPTER IV

LOST


We had a terrible fright the next morning, for the poor dear Wallypug
got lost, and for some time we could not imagine what had become of
him.

It happened in this way: directly after breakfast his Majesty said
that he should like to go for a walk and look at the shops.

"I'm not going," declared the Doctor-in-Law. "I have some _very_
important letters to write."

We all looked up in surprise, for we did not know that the
Doctor-in-Law had any other acquaintances in London.

"Letters from which I hope to derive a princely income," continued
the little man grandly; "and, therefore, I have no time for such
foolishness as looking into shop windows."

"He's afraid thad he bight have to sped sub buddy," remarked
A. Fish, Esq.

"Nothing of the sort," replied the Doctor-in-Law, turning very red
though.

"Well, don't waste time talking about it; let's go if we are going,"
said the Rhymester; and so, as I also had some correspondence to
attend to, it was arranged that the Wallypug, the Rhymester, and A.
Fish, Esq., should go for a little stroll by themselves. I had some
doubts in my own mind as to the advisability of letting them go alone,
but they promised not to go beyond Kensington Gardens, and to wait for
me there just inside the gates.

After they had gone I settled down to my letter-writing, and was
getting along nicely when the Doctor-in-Law interrupted me with:

"I say, I wish you would let me have about twenty sheets of
note-paper, will you, please?"

"Twenty!" I exclaimed in surprise.

"Yes, twenty," said the Doctor-in-Law. "Or you had better make it
a quire while you are about it."

I thought the quickest way to get rid of him was to give him the
paper, so I got up and got it for him.

"And a packet of envelopes, please," he said, as I handed it to him.

"Anything else?" I asked rather sarcastically.

"Stamps!" he replied, calmly holding out his hand.

"Well, really--" I expostulated.

"Oh, halfpenny ones will do. You're surely not so mean as to mind
tenpence, are you?"

"I don't think I'm mean, but--"

"Hand them over then, and don't waste so much time talking," said the
little man impatiently, and so, just to get rid of him, I gave him the
stamps and sat down to my letters again.

I had hardly begun when he came back.

"Don't you take any other newspapers than these?" he demanded, showing
me a handful.

"No, I don't, and I think it's rather extravagant of me to have
those," I replied.

"Well, then, how do you suppose that I am going to manage? I want at
least five other papers, and it's _most_ important that I should have
them."

"You might buy them," I suggested.

"They are so dear," he grumbled.

"Well, why don't you go to the Public Library then?" I suggested. "You
know where it is, and you could see all of the papers there, you
know."

"Ah, a capital idea," he said, putting on his hat and going out.

"Now," I thought, "I shall have peace at last."

I was not left undisturbed long though, for a few minutes later Mrs.
Putchy came to the door.

"Oh, please, sir, will you go down? Mr. Doctor-in-Law is having such a
bother with the postman."

I hurried out, and found the little man very angry indeed.

"This postman won't give me a letter," he cried when he saw me.

"Perhaps he hasn't one for you," I answered.

"But I saw him giving them away all down the street for nothing,"
persisted the Doctor-in-Law. "And when I asked him in a civil way for
one, he refused to give it to me. It's no use for him to say he hasn't
one, when he has a whole packet in his hand now, and a lot more in
his bag, no doubt. Are you going to give me a letter or not?" he
continued, turning to the postman.

 [Illustration: "ARE YOU GOING TO GIVE ME A LETTER OR NOT?"]

"No, sir," continued the man, smiling. "I haven't any for you."

"Very well, then," said the Doctor-in-Law decidedly, "I shall
certainly write to the Queen and tell her that if she employs you any
longer I shall take all my custom away, and I shall not send the
twenty letters, that I intended writing to-day, off at all."

I endeavoured to explain to the little man that the postman could not
possibly give him a letter if he had not one addressed to him.

"Oh, that's all nonsense," he exclaimed, going off in a huff. "Of
course you would take his part."

Before I could settle down to work again the Rhymester and A. Fish,
Esq., returned.

"Where's the Wallypug?" I demanded.

"Oh, he's coming by the next 'bus," said the Rhymester. "Haven't you
had any rain here?"

"No," I replied.

"Oh, we had quidt a sharb shower," said A. Fish, Esq., "ad I was
afraid of gettig wet, so we stopped a 'bus--there was odly roob for
two though, ad the Wallypug said thad he would cub od by the dext."

"I hope he will get home all right," I said anxiously. "I don't think
you ought to have left his Majesty by himself."

"Oh! it's only a little way," said the Rhymester; "he's sure to get
home all right."

 [Illustration: "SO WE STOPPED A 'BUS"]

An hour passed and there was no signs of the Wallypug. I now began
to get seriously anxious.

It would, of course, be the easiest thing in the world for his Majesty
to take the wrong 'bus, and be taken goodness knows where.

I couldn't think what was best to be done. The Rhymester suggested
sending the Crier out, but I never remembered having seen one at
Kensington, and at last, after searching for some time ourselves in
Kensington Gardens, and making inquiries in High Street, and failing
to glean any tidings of his Majesty, I thought it best to go to the
Police Station.

Here I found a very important-looking official in uniform, with a big
book in front of him.

"What is it?" he inquired, glaring at me fiercely.

"I've called to know if you could assist me in finding a friend who, I
fear, has lost his way," I replied.

The official did not answer me, but reached down another large book.

"What's his name?" he inquired gruffly.

"His name? Oh--er--his name is--er--that is to say he is the--" I had
not the least idea what the Wallypug's name really was, so I couldn't
very well say.

"What's his name?" shouted the official. "I'll ask you what he _is_
presently."

"Well, I'm very sorry, but I really do not know his name."

The man glanced at me very suspiciously.

"You said he was a friend of yours--it's a very odd thing that you
don't know his name. What is he?"

"He's a--a--Wallypug," I stammered. "That is to say he--er--"

"Wallypug!" exclaimed the man contemptuously. "What's that?"

"Why, it's a kind of king, you know," I explained, feeling that the
explanation was rather a lame one.

"A _kind_ of king!" exclaimed the police officer. "Explain yourself."

"Well, I'm afraid I can't explain more clearly than that," I replied.
"This gentleman has been staying with me for a couple of days, and
went out this morning and lost his way."

"Where did he come from?" asked the man.

"Why," I answered.

"Why? Because I want to know," he shouted. "Don't let me have any
further prevarication. Where did the man, or Wallypug, or whatever you
call him, come from?"

"From Why. From a place called Why, you know," I repeated.

"I _don't_ know," said the officer. "I've never heard of such a place.
Where is it?"

"Well, really," I said, "I'm very sorry, but I cannot tell you. I
don't know myself."

"This is _very_ remarkable," said the man, glaring at me through his
glasses. "You don't know your friend's name; you call him a Wallypug,
and can't explain what that is, you don't know where he comes
from--perhaps you can tell me how he reached your house?"

I was now really in a fix, for how could I tell this man that his
Majesty had stepped out of a picture.

I thought the best thing to do was to hold my tongue.

"How did he come?" repeated the officer. "By train?"

I shook my head.

"By steamer?"

I shook my head again.

"Did he drive?--or come on a bicycle, or walk?"

I remained silent.

The police officer stared at me for a moment or two, waiting for my
answer.

"Look here, young man," said he at last, evidently very angry indeed.
"It strikes me that you are having a game with me. You had better go
away quietly or I shall be obliged to take you in charge as a
lunatic."

"But I assure you that--"

"How was your friend dressed?"

"Oh, he wore a somewhat battered gold crown, and carried an orb and
sceptre, and was dressed in knee breeches and a velvet cloak with an
ermine collar."

The man gave me a keen glance and then rang a bell. A policeman
appeared a moment or two afterwards, and the officer whispered
something to him, of which I only caught the words, "harmless
lunatic."

"Lunatic, sir; yes, sir. Step this way, please," said the policeman,
and before I could realize what had happened I was bundled into a
small bare room, and the key was turned in the lock and I was a
prisoner.

Here was a pretty state of affairs. The stupid people had mistaken me
for a lunatic, and I was no doubt to be locked up here till a doctor
arrived.

Of course the only thing for me to do was to sit still and wait as
patiently as I could. Fortunately the police people thought of
telegraphing to the other stations to find out if anything was known
of an escaped lunatic; and from Fulham came the reply, "We have found
one ourselves. He calls himself a Wallypug, and is dressed like a
second-hand king." This caused inquiries to be made, and eventually I
was taken in a cab to Fulham, where we found his Majesty in the charge
of the police, he having been found wandering about the Fulham Road
quite unable to give what they considered a satisfactory account of
himself.

It was most unfortunate that his Majesty should have taken the wrong
'bus, for, not having any money with him, he was set down in a totally
strange neighbourhood, and had quite forgotten my address. Of course,
now that we had been brought face to face, we had no difficulty in
convincing the police people that we were what we represented
ourselves to be, and were soon, to our great relief, on our way
home again.

"I don't think that I should like to be a policeman," remarked the
Wallypug, on our way there.

"No?" I answered. "Why not?"

"They have to catch dogs for a living?" remarked his Majesty solemnly.
"There were several brought in while I was waiting, and the policeman
who had caught them seemed so pleased about it."

I explained to the Wallypug as well as I was able about the muzzling
order, and his Majesty was highly indignant, and when I pointed out
several dogs with muzzles on he was more indignant still.

"And are they always obliged to wear those horrible wire cages over
their heads?" he inquired.

I told his Majesty that in London the order for wearing them had been
in force for some considerable time, and we had a long talk over the
matter, his Majesty declaring that he should try and invent a new
muzzle which should be more comfortable for the poor dogs.

 [Illustration: UNABLE TO GIVE AN ACCOUNT OF HIMSELF]

"Oh, here we are at last," he exclaimed, as we turned the corner near
my house. "And there are the others on the steps!"

"Here they are! Here they are!" shouted the Rhymester to the others,
and everyone rushed forward to assist his Majesty to alight, seemingly
very glad to see us back again.

We were quite as delighted to get back, I can tell you, and I was so
relieved at having found the Wallypug that I hadn't the heart to
refuse the Doctor-in-Law's request that I would give him ten shillings
worth of penny stamps to put into the letters which he had been
writing while we had been away, although he would not give me the
slightest clue as to what they were wanted for.




CHAPTER V

AN 'AT HOME' AND THE ACADEMY


We were quite ready for luncheon, as you may imagine, after our
morning's adventures, and directly afterwards his Majesty set to work
on the new dog's muzzle which he had promised to invent. In about half
an hour he had constructed one with which he was intensely delighted,
and he persuaded A. Fish, Esq., to try it on that we might see the
effect.

It certainly was very simple, but as there was nothing whatever to go
over the mouth, I felt sure that it could not possibly be very useful.
I did not like to tell his Majesty so though, for he seemed so
thoroughly proud of his achievement.

It was now time to go to the 'At Home,' so, wishing to do honour to
the occasion, our 'State Coach,' as we called it, was sent for, and
we drove off in fine style.

There were a great many people invited to meet us, and I could see
that there was quite a little flutter of excitement when the Wallypug
entered.

 [Illustration: IT CERTAINLY WAS VERY SIMPLE]

His Majesty, however, in his simple, good-natured way soon put
everybody at their ease, and laughed and chattered with the utmost
affability.

Girlie and Boy had both been allowed to come into the drawing-room,
and Girlie quite claimed the Wallypug as her own particular guest,
while Boy renewed his acquaintance with the Rhymester, whom he had met
before at Zum, and despite their mother's protests they carried these
two members of our party off in triumph to show them their play-room
and toys and to talk over old times.

While they were away the Doctor-in-Law made himself very agreeable to
the ladies, and I watched him bowing and smiling and chatting, first
with one group, then with another, with great amusement. I found out
afterwards that he had promised several of them portraits of his
Majesty and suite for 2s. 6d. each as soon as they should be taken,
and in every case had asked for the money in advance; but the great
event of the afternoon was when A. Fish, Esq., wrapped up in Mrs.
Putchy's pink woollen shawl, borrowed for the occasion, and surrounded
by a group of young ladies, consented after much pressing to deliver
part of his lecture on the "Perhapness of the Improbable."

"You bust sed for the Rhymebster though to help be to read id, for by
cold is still so bad thad I can'd do id by byself," he explained.

 [Illustration: A. FISH, ESQ., OBLIGES]

So the Rhymester was sent for, and his Majesty also came down to hear
the wonderful lecture. It had been turned into verse by the Rhymester,
who, after an affected attempt to clear his throat, read as follows:

THE PERHAPNESS OF THE IMPROBABLE.

    If _this_ were that, and _these_ were those,
      And _hither_ nearer thither,
    Why, _which_ might be whate'er it chose,
      And _there_ be any whither.

    Somehow 'twould be the simpler way
      To _dearer_ be than cheaper,
    And that's why _when_ (each other day)
      Would _higher_ be than _deeper_.

    So _worst_ would be the _best_ of all,
      And _far more less_ than either;
    While _short_ would certainly be _tall_,
      And therefore thus be neither.

 [Illustration: ABSENT-MINDEDLY SPILT HIS TEA]

"Beautiful! charming!" echoed all the young ladies at once when he
had finished, while one lady sitting near me exclaimed, "How sweetly
simple!" For my own part I thought that it was anything but simple,
and caught myself trying to follow the line of argument with the most
brain-confusing results.

The Wallypug was greatly distressed when he discovered that while
listening to the reading, and looking at the charming young lady with
whom he had been conversing, he had absent-mindedly spilt the whole of
his cup of tea over her dress.

"You see, they didn't give me a plate to put my cake on," I heard him
explain apologetically, "and it _was_ so awkward, for my cup would
keep slipping about on the saucer."

The young lady smiled very sweetly and assured his Majesty that it
didn't matter in the least, and shortly afterwards we left, having
stayed, as it was, far beyond the regulation time.

When we arrived home we found a letter addressed to the Rhymester in
the letter-box, which in a state of great excitement he tore open with
trembling fingers.

Upon reading the contents he burst into tears.

"Poor man, poor man!" he sobbed. "I am so sorry to have caused him so
much trouble."

"It is a letter from an Editor," he explained through his tears, "and
he is in great distress through not being able to publish my poem. He
says he greatly regrets his inability to make use of it! Poor man, he
evidently feels it very keenly. I must write and tell him not to be
too unhappy about it."

I had some letters to write too, one to a photographer in Regent
Street, asking for an appointment the next morning, for I was
determined that the Doctor-in-Law should send the promised photographs
to the young ladies without delay.

The first thing in the morning came a telegram to say that we could
be photographed at eleven o'clock, so, after my guests had made
themselves as spruce as possible, we started off and reached there in
good time.

It was suggested that the Wallypug should be taken by himself, but
when he saw the camera pointed directly at him while the operator
disappeared beneath the black cloth, he came to the conclusion that it
was too dangerous a machine to be faced with impunity, so he suddenly
turned his back upon it, and nervously fled from the room.

It was only by promising that the others should be taken with him that
we could get him to sit at all, and even then there was a strained
and nervous expression upon his face, which suggested that he was in
momentary fear that the thing would "go off."

The Rhymester insisted upon being taken with one of his poems in his
hand, the Doctor-in-Law wore his usual complacent smile, and
altogether the group was quite a success.

As soon as the "operation," as the Wallypug would insist upon calling
it, was over, we went downstairs, his Majesty leading the way, while
the Doctor-in-Law stayed behind for a moment to make some arrangements
with the photographer about commission. We had intended going home by
'bus, but when we got to the door his Majesty was nowhere to be seen.
What could have become of him? We looked up and down the street, but
could see no signs of him anywhere; and at last, after hunting about
for a considerable time, he was discovered calmly sitting inside a
furniture removal van, waiting for it to start, under the impression
that it was an omnibus.

"I'm sure this is the right one," he explained, "for it has
'Kensington' printed in large letters on it. Come along, there's
plenty of room inside; the conductor and the driver will be here
presently, I suppose."

I laughingly explained to his Majesty the mistake which he had made,
and we walked on as far as Piccadilly Circus, where we found a 'bus to
take us to the Academy, which we intended visiting on our way home. We
had not gone far though, when I suddenly remembered that the 22nd June
was very close at hand, and that I had better make arrangements for
seats to view the Jubilee Procession or I should be too late. So it
was arranged that the Doctor-in-Law should take charge of the party
while I went on to the agents to see about the seats. They would have
no difficulty in getting home by themselves for the 'buses ran from
just outside the Academy doors straight to Kensington, so I felt sure
that they would be all right.

"How much is the entrance fee to the Academy?" asked the
Doctor-in-Law, as I was getting down from the 'bus.

"A shilling each," I replied, and I saw the little man collecting the
money from the others as the 'bus disappeared from view.

 [Illustration: WAITING FOR IT TO START]

I was very fortunate at the agents in being able to secure a
capital window in Piccadilly, and some Stores in the neighbourhood
undertook to provide a luncheon and to suitably decorate the window
for us.

These arrangements being satisfactorily concluded, I hurried home, and
was greatly relieved to find my guests there before me.

"How did you enjoy the Academy?" I inquired.

 [Illustration: COULD NOT UNDERSTAND THE CATALOGUE]

"Not at all!" said his Majesty decidedly.

"Waste of money, I call it," said the Rhymester, sniffing
contemptuously.

"I was dever so disappointed id edythig id all by life!" declared A.
Fish, Esq.

"Besides, the catalogue was no good at all," complained his Majesty.
"We could make neither head nor tail of it."

The Doctor-in-Law was silent, and it was only by very careful inquiry
that I found out that, after pocketing their money, he had taken them
to an immense hoarding covered with advertisement posters, and had
gammoned them into believing that _that_ was the Academy, while it was
no wonder that the poor Wallypug could not understand the 'catalogue,'
for it was nothing more nor less than an old illustrated stores price
list.

It was really too bad of the Doctor-in-Law.




CHAPTER VI

THE JUBILEE


The few days which elapsed before the memorable 22nd of June passed
very quickly, and we were all more or less busy making preparations
for the festival. His Majesty would insist upon polishing up his
regalia himself in order to do honour to the occasion, and spent hours
over his crown with a piece of chamois leather and some whitening
till, though somewhat battered by the rough usage it had sustained, it
shone quite brilliantly. Mrs. Putchy herself suggested making his
Majesty some new red silk rosettes for his shoes, which he very
graciously consented to accept. The Doctor-in-Law was always so spick
and span that we scarcely noticed any change in his appearance, but
the Rhymester had made arrangements with General Mary Jane to wash,
starch, and iron his lace collar, and he remained in his room one
entire day while it was being done up. A. Fish, Esq., purchased a
necktie of most brilliant colouring, and One-and-Nine touched himself
up here and there with some red enamel where his tunic had become
shabby in places, so that altogether our party looked very smart as we
drove at a very early hour to our seats in Piccadilly. To avoid the
crowd we went by way of Bayswater Road, and then passed down Park Lane
and through Berkeley Square, in order to reach the back entrance to
the house in Piccadilly where I had booked seats. Our gorgeous
carriage was everywhere hailed with great delight, being of course
mistaken for a portion of the Jubilee procession, and many were the
conjectures heard on all sides as to who the Wallypug could possibly
be.

 [Illustration: WITH SOME RED ENAMEL]

Our window was in the centre of the building on the first floor, and
we had it all to ourselves. A table at the back of the room was
tastefully set out with an excellent cold collation, and in front of
the window, which was most elaborately decorated with velvet curtains,
flags, and trophies, and which was surmounted by a device which was
understood to be the Wallypug's coat-of-arms, a gorgeous, gilded,
high-backed chair was placed as a throne for his Majesty, and
comfortable seats were also provided for the rest of the party.

The crowd outside greeted our appearance with quite a demonstration,
as by the enormous placard outside announcing the name of the
decorators, and stating that they were by appointment to his Majesty
the Wallypug of Why, of course everybody knew who we were. Indeed, one
learned-looking person in the crowd was holding forth to an eager
audience, and explaining exactly where Why was situated, and
pretending that he had been there, and had seen the Wallypug before,
ever so many times.

As the time approached for the procession to pass, the Wallypug became
very excited and nervous. "Shall I really see the Queen of England?"
he kept asking over and over again. "Do you think she will see me?
Will she bow to me? What must I say? Must I keep my crown on or take
it off?" and innumerable other questions of the same nature.

Presently the excitement and enthusiasm reached their height, as amid
a confused shouting of "Here they are," the Guards in advance came in
sight. Slowly the mighty procession, with its innumerable squadrons
and bands passed, and at last, after the English and Foreign princes
and Eastern potentates, the eight cream- Hanoverian horses,
drawing the Jubilee landau, made their appearance, and the Queen was
seen, smiling and bowing graciously to the cheering populace. The
Doctor-in-Law, in his excitement, scrambled on to the window ledge in
order to obtain a better view; the Wallypug loyally waved his crown;
while the Rhymester, hurriedly unrolling a lengthy ode which he had
written especially for the occasion, began reading it in a loud voice,
and, though nobody paid the slightest attention to him, did not desist
until long after the procession had passed.

 [Illustration: THE WALLYPUG LOYALLY WAVED HIS CROWN]

The Wallypug was very thoughtful for some time after the Queen had
gone by, and, during the drive home, expressed his great surprise
that her Majesty had not worn a crown, and apparently could not
understand why it should not be worn on all occasions.

"I suppose her Majesty has a crown of her own, hasn't she?" he asked
anxiously.

"Oh yes, of course!" I replied.

"Where is it then?" persisted his Majesty.

"I believe all of the regalia is kept carefully locked up and guarded
in the Tower of London," I said.

"Well, I think it's very unkind of them not to let her Majesty have
them out on an occasion like this. I shall see what I can do about
it."

The dear Wallypug's intentions were evidently so good that I did not
say anything in reply to this, though I wondered to myself whatever
his Majesty thought that _he_ could do in the matter.

There were so many people about that we considered it best to spend
the rest of the day quietly at home, though we did venture out in the
evening to see the illuminations, which delighted his Majesty
exceedingly.

The next afternoon the whole party, with the exception of
One-and-Nine, drove over the route taken by the procession, in order
to see the street decorations. I remained at home, and late in the
afternoon there was a knock at my door, and General Mary Jane entered.
She was nervously wringing a handkerchief wet with tears, and her eyes
were quite red with weeping.

"Please, sir," she began, sniffing pathetically, "I want to
gi--gi--give no--notice."

"Why! what ever for?" I asked in surprise, for General Mary Jane was
an excellent servant, and Mrs. Putchy had always been very pleased
with her.

"Please, sir, it's Sergeant One-and-Nine; he's broken my 'art, sir,
and I can't bear it no longer," and the poor girl burst into a flood
of tears.

"Bless me!" I cried, "whatever do you mean?"

"Well, sir, you see ever since he's been 'ere, sir, he's been a making
hup to me; leastwise that's what I thought he meant, sir; but this
afternoon bein' my day hout, I went up to Kensington Gardens for a
walk (him a saying as he would be there), and what should I see when
I gets there, but him a walkin' about with half-a-dozen of them
nursemaids in white frocks a followin' of him. Not that I says as it's
altogether his fault; they will run after the military; but it's more
than I can stand, sir, me bein' that proud at 'avin' a soldier for a
sweetheart, and all," and she began to cry again.

 [Illustration: THEY WILL RUN AFTER THE MILITARY]

I hardly knew what to do, but suggested that she should not think too
seriously about it, and General Mary Jane, saying she hoped I would
excuse her troubling me in the matter, decided to go to her married
sister at Barnes and spend the rest of her day out there, and talk
the matter over with her. I had a lot of writing to do all the
afternoon, and the time passed so quickly that until the gong sounded
for dinner I did not realize that the Wallypug and his party had not
returned. It was now past seven, and they should have been home hours
since.

I was so anxious about them that I could scarcely eat any dinner, and
as soon as the meal was over I hurried to the livery stables to hear
if they knew anything about the matter.

The first person I encountered when I arrived there was the coachman,
now divested of his fine livery, and busy in the yard.

"Bless you, sir, yes, back hours ago," said he. "I set his Majesty and
the others down at your door about five o'clock, and I did hear them
say something about going down to Hammersmith for a walk."

"To Hammersmith?" I echoed in surprise.

"Yes, sir--they wanted to see the Suspension Bridge and the river
again, so I told them the way to get there. They're all right, sir,
I'll be bound. The Doctor-in-Law is too wide awake for anything to
happen to them while he is with them."

I walked home somewhat easier in my mind now that I knew the party had
returned safely, though still somewhat anxious as to their
whereabouts.

About nine o'clock it began to get quite dark, and I was just setting
out to see if I could find any trace of them when General Mary Jane
returned.

 [Illustration: "AND DONKEY RIDES"]

"Oh, sir!" she exclaimed directly she saw me, "what do you think? His
Majesty and the Doctor-in-Law and the others are down at the fair by
Hammersmith Bridge, and they are 'aving such a lark. I see them all
'aving a roundabout as I was coming past on my way 'ome from my
sister's just now; such a crowd there was a cheering and a hollering.
Cocoa-nut shies, too, a boy told me they had been 'aving, and old Aunt
Sally, and donkey rides along the towing path."

 [Illustration: "THEY ARE 'AVING SUCH A LARK"]

I hurriedly put on my hat and rushed off to Hammersmith, for I didn't
know what might happen to my guests among the rough crowd which I knew
usually gathered there.

When I arrived on the scene I found the whole party on the roundabout,
and when they alighted I learned that the Doctor-in-Law had arranged
with one of the show people to share the proceeds of exhibiting the
Wallypug and A. Fish, Esq., in separate tents, at 3d. a head.

I met with considerable opposition from the show people in my
endeavours to persuade my guests to come home, as they had evidently
been a source of considerable profit to them, though the man with the
cocoa-nut shies declared that the Doctor-in-Law had claimed a great
many more nuts than he was properly entitled to.

The crowd made quite a demonstration when we departed in a
four-wheeler, and the Rhymester evidently considered it a compliment
that the contents of so many "ladies' tormentors," as the little tubes
filled with water are called, were directed at him. Altogether the
whole party had evidently been delighted with their evening's
amusement, though, as I explained to them while we were driving home,
it was highly inconsistent with the dignity of his Majesty's position,
and calculated to cause him to be treated with a certain amount of
disrespect. I could see, however, that all I said had very little
effect on any of the party, and that they were one and all highly
delighted with their adventure.




CHAPTER VII

MORE ADVENTURES


"It's the most contraryish place I've ever seen," declared
One-and-Nine.

"Yes," agreed the Wallypug. "There was no water in the moat."

"The Drawbridge didn't draw," echoed the Rhymester.

"Ad the beefeaters didn't eat beef," chimed in A. Fish, Esq., while
the Doctor-in-Law declared that for his part he "considered the
morning spent there had been entirely wasted."

They were talking about the Tower of London, and were telling Girlie
and Boy, who were spending the afternoon with us, all about their
visit there on the previous day.

I was sitting in an adjoining room--but the door being open I could
hear all that was said.

"How did you go?" asked Boy.

"Oh!" exclaimed the Wallypug, "in the most extraordinary way you can
possibly imagine. We went into a house in High Street, Kensington, and
bought some little tickets, and then we handed them to a man at a
barrier, who cut a little piece out of each one as we passed through."

"To rebebber us by," chimed in A. Fish, Esq.

"Yes," continued the Wallypug; "and then we went down two flights of
stairs, and by-and-bye a lot of little houses on wheels came rushing
into the station, and we got into one of them and before you could say
'Jack Robinson' we were rushing through a big black tunnel under the
ground."

"Why, you mean the Underground Railway," declared Girlie.

"Yes," agreed his Majesty. "And the little room we sat in had
beautiful soft cushions and a big light in the middle of the roof, and
little texts printed on the wall--"

"Texts!" exclaimed both of the children.

"Texts," repeated the Wallypug. "What were they? Do you remember?" he
asked of the others.

"Oh, one was, 'You are requested not to put your feet on the
cushions,'" said the Rhymester.

"Oh, yes, and 'To seat five,' and 'Wait till the train stops'--I
remember now," continued the Wallypug. "Well, we kept rushing through
the tunnel till we came to 'Holman's Mustard,' and a lot of people got
out, and then we went on again till we came to 'Smears' Soap.'"

 [Illustration: "HOLMAN'S MUSTARD AGAIN"]

"It wasn't 'Smears' Soap,'" contradicted the Doctor-in-Law. "It was
somebody's Ink."

"Well, there were such a lot of names," declared the Wallypug, "it was
impossible to really tell which was which. I always took the name
opposite to my window to be the right one. The funniest part of it all
was, we kept coming to 'Holman's Mustard' over and over again. I can't
think how on earth the people know when to get out."

"Why, those weren't the names of the stations at all," laughed Boy.
"They were advertisements!"

"Well, where were the names of the stations then?" demanded his
Majesty.

"Why, in big letters on the walls of course," was the reply.

"They couldn't have been much bigger than those of 'Holman's
Mustard,'" persisted the Wallypug somewhat ungrammatically.

"Never mind about that; get on with your story," remarked the
Doctor-in-Law impatiently.

"Well, after going through a lot of tunnels and stopping ever so many
times, we got out at one of the stations and went upstairs into the
light again, and almost opposite the station we could see a lot of
grey stone buildings with towers and battlements."

"I know! You mean the Tower. We've been there," interrupted Girlie.

"Did you see the Lions?" asked the Wallypug eagerly.

"Lions! No!" exclaimed the children. "There weren't any; you didn't
see any, did you?"

"No, we didn't," admitted the Wallypug, "but the Doctor-in-Law told us
that there were some there."

"I read it in a book," declared the Doctor-in-Law. "But I daresay it
was all a pack of stories, like the rest of the things they said. Look
at the Crown Jewels for instance--bits of glass and rubbish. That's
why they put them in an iron cage, so you can't get at them to see if
they are real."

"Oh! I think they _are_ real," said Boy. "The Guide told us that they
were worth ever so many thousands of pounds."

"Yes, he may have _said_ so," remarked the Doctor-in-Law, "but I'll be
bound he wouldn't let you take them away and examine them for
yourself. I asked them to let me have one or two of the crowns and
things to take home and test, but they positively refused, although I
promised to return them within a week. They are afraid that we should
find out that they are only imitations--that's what's the matter."

"There weren't any kings or queens executed either the day we were
there," he continued, grumbling.

"Well, I'm sure I'm very glad that _that_ fashion has died out,"
declared his Majesty. "I don't mind admitting now that I was rather
nervous about going at all, for fear that I should have _my_ head
chopped off, and I should feel so very awkward without one, you know."

"Pooh! You needn't have been alarmed, for there wasn't a Lord High
Executioner on the premises, because I asked," declared the Rhymester.

"No, but do you know," said his Majesty, "I've found out since, that
he lives at the bottom of our street, and mends shoes for a living--he
does a little executing still on the sly, for I have seen his bill in
the window, 'Orders _executed_ with promptness and dispatch.' I asked
him one day what class he executed most, and he said that his
connection was principally amongst the 'Uppers.' He seems a very kind
man though, and not only executes orders, but heals them too, poor
souls! He charges 1s. 3d. for healing. His education has been sorely
neglected, I am afraid, however, for he spells it 'heeling.'"

"Did you see the Armoury at the Tower?" asked Boy.

"Yes, and there was another instance of deception," declared the
Doctor-in-Law.

"What do you mean?" asked Boy.

"Well, what is an armoury?" inquired the Doctor-in-Law.

"A place where arms are kept, I suppose," replied Boy.

"Just so, and there wasn't an arm in the place except our own," said
the Doctor-in-Law wrathfully.

"Why, they call guns and things arms," said Boy, laughing.

"Oh! do they?" remarked the Doctor-in-Law sarcastically. "Why don't
they call things by their proper names then? they might as well call
them legs, or turnips, or paraffin oil--bah! I've no patience with
such folly!"

 [Illustration: "THEY WENT FOR BY CALVES"]

"I think they bight feed the raveds[1] bedder," complained A. Fish,
Esq. "They went for by calves, and if wud of those Beefeaters
hadn'd cub and driven theb away I shouldn't have had a leg left to
stand up od."

 [1] He meant the tame ravens which are kept at the Tower.

"Beefeaters, yes!" remarked the Rhymester, "and a pretty lot they
were. I tried several of them with a piece that I had brought with me
in a little paper bag, and not one of them would touch it."

"Madame Tussaud's was better; we went there in the afternoon," said
his Majesty.

"Yes, but who was to know which were wax figures and which were not?"
asked the Doctor-in-Law.

"Well, you made a pretty muddle of it anyhow," said the Wallypug. "Do
you know," he went on, "the Doctor-in-Law made us all pay sixpence
each towards the catalogue, and then went around with us explaining
the various groups. He had just finished telling us that several
ladies, who were standing together, were Henry the Eighth's wives,
when they all marched off looking highly indignant."

"Well, how was I to know?" remarked the Doctor-in-Law pettishly. "I'd
never met a single one of Henry the Eighth's wives in my life, and how
was I to recognize them?"

"I don't think they would have binded so butch if the Rhymebster
hadn't pinched wud of theb to see if they were alive or dot," remarked
A. Fish, Esq.

"Did you see the Sleeping Beauty?" asked Girlie.

 [Illustration: HE COULD GET NO ANSWER]

"Oh, yes! Isn't it cruel to keep her shut up in that case," cried the
Wallypug. "I'm sure she's alive, for we could see her breathing quite
distinctly. I was so concerned about it that I asked the Doctor-in-Law
to speak to a policeman who was standing near by about it. But he
could get no answer from him, and we found out afterwards that he was
only a wax figure."

"The best thig of all," remarked A. Fish, Esq., "was whed we all
pretended that we--"

"Dear me, it's very warm!" interrupted the Doctor-in-Law. "Let's
change the subject."

"Pretended that we--" continued A. Fish, Esq.

"Hush--sh--sh--!" cried the Doctor-in-Law in a warning voice.

"The fact of the matter is," explained the Rhymester, "the
Doctor-in-Law got us all to pretend that we were wax figures
ourselves, and he tied little money boxes in front of us with the
words: 'Put a penny in the slot and the figure will move,' written on
them, and when anyone put a penny in we all moved our heads and rolled
our eyes about."

"I didn't!" said the Wallypug.

"No, I know you didn't," replied the Rhymester. "And the Doctor-in-Law
had to explain that you were out of order, and that's how we were
found out, for the people wanted their money back and he wouldn't give
it to them, so they called the attendant, and we had to go out as
quickly as we could."

"Ad wasn't id beade?" said A. Fish, Esq. "There were four shillings
ad threepedce id the boxes, ad the Doctor-id-Law wouldn't give us a
penny of id."

"Well, I let you pay my fare home. That amounted to the same thing,"
replied the little man.

Just then Mrs. Putchy came in with afternoon tea, and I joined my
guests in the drawing-room.




CHAPTER VIII

HIS MAJESTY IS INTERVIEWED


The next morning we were all seated around the breakfast table
laughing over our adventures of the evening before, when we had
visited the Earl's Court Exhibition together. We had been up in the
Great Wheel, and having passed through the pretty old English village
were walking around the artificial lake listening to the band playing
in their little pavilion on the island in the middle, when the
Doctor-in-Law declared that he heard a strange trumpeting sound, and
asked me what it could be. I had not heard it and so could not tell
him, and we were just discussing the matter when the Wallypug clutched
wildly at his crown, and turning around we saw a huge elephant lifting
it gracefully off his head with its trunk.

Directly his Majesty realized what it was, he gave a wild scream and
took to his heels, as did all the others, with the exception of the
Rhymester, who tripped against a stone and lay with his head buried in
his arms for some time, kicking and screaming for help.

Of course it was only the tame elephant that carries the children on
its back, but to the unaccustomed eyes of the Wallypug and his party
it seemed, so they told me afterwards, some strange and awful monster
ready to devour them.

As I said, we were laughing merrily over this adventure when the
postman arrived, and the Doctor-in-Law, without asking to be excused
from the table, rushed out to meet him, and returned a few minutes
later with his arms loaded with a number of little packages and one
rather large box, which had arrived by Carter Paterson.

"Dear me, what a lot of letters," remarked his Majesty.

"Yes. Wouldn't you like to know what they are all about, eh?" inquired
the Doctor-in-Law.

"Yes, I should," admitted the Wallypug; while the faces of the
others all expressed the same curiosity.

 [Illustration: A STRANGE AND AWFUL MONSTER]

"Well, I'll tell you what I'll do," said the Doctor-in-Law. "If you'll
all pay me fourpence halfpenny each, I will let you open them and see
for yourselves."

There was a little grumbling at this, but eventually the money changed
hands, and, the breakfast things having been removed, the little
packages were opened with great eagerness.

Besides a printed circular, each one contained some little article--a
pencil case, a pen knife, a comb, a sample tin of knife polish, a card
of revolving collar studs, and so on.

"Ah!" remarked the Doctor-in-Law complacently as these articles
were spread about the table; "I told you that I expected to derive a
princely revenue from my correspondence, and now I will explain to you
how it is done. I observed a great number of advertisements in the
daily papers, stating that 'A handsome income could be earned without
the slightest trouble or inconvenience, and particulars would be
forwarded to any one sending six stamps and an addressed envelope';
so I sent off about twenty, and here is the result. I see by these
circulars that I have only to sell two hundred of these little pencil
cases at half-a-crown each in order to earn 1s. 6d. commission, and
for every dozen tins of knife polish I sell, I shall be paid 1-1/2d.,
besides being able to earn 6d. a thousand by addressing envelopes for
one firm, if I supply my own envelopes."

"What's in the big box?" inquired the Rhymester.

"A dittig bachede," replied A. Fish, Esq., who had been busily engaged
in opening it.

"A what?" exclaimed the others.

"A dittig bachede for dittig socks," repeated A. Fish, Esq.

"Oh yes, of course!" explained the Doctor-in-Law, "a knitting machine.
I was persuaded to buy it on the understanding that I was to have
constant work all the year round, and be paid so much per pair for
knitting socks with it. It's a most interesting and amusing
occupation, and, I'll tell you what, I don't mind letting any one of
you use the machine for sixpence an hour, if you find your own worsted
and give me the socks when they are finished. There now! nothing
could be fairer than that, could it?"

 [Illustration: THE "DITTIG BACHEDE"]

And positively A. Fish, Esq., was so infatuated with the charms of the
"dittig bachede," as he called it, that he actually agreed to these
terms, and sent out for some worsted, and commenced "dittig" with
great enthusiasm. The Doctor-in-Law then set the Rhymester to work,
addressing the envelopes on the understanding that he was to share
the sixpence per thousand to be paid for them. And, having bothered
the Wallypug and myself into buying a pencil-case and a knife each, in
order to get rid of him, he started off to the kitchen to see if he
could do any business with Mrs. Putchy in the knife-polish or
black-lead line.

His Majesty and myself were just saying what an extraordinary little
man he was, when he burst in upon us again.

"Heard the news?" he inquired, his face beaming with importance.

"No. What is it?" inquired the others eagerly.

"Ah! wouldn't you like to know?" exclaimed the Doctor-in-Law. "How
much will you give me for telling you?"

"How much do you want?" asked the Rhymester dubiously.

"A penny each," was the reply.

"Come on then, let's have it," said the Rhymester, collecting the
pennies from the others and handing them to the Doctor-in-Law.

"Why--er--er--Queen Anne is dead, and the Dutch have taken
Holland--yah!" And the little man burst out laughing.

"Oh! I say, that's _too_ bad," grumbled the Wallypug. "Isn't it now?"
he cried, appealing to me.

"Well, really," I replied, "you shouldn't be so silly as to give him
money. You ought to know by this time what to expect from him."

"No, but truly," said the Doctor-in-Law, pulling a serious face, "I
_have_ got some news, the other was only my fun. A lady is going to
call on us at eleven, to interview the Wallypug. I had almost
forgotten it."

"A lady!" I exclaimed. "Whoever do you mean?"

"Oh, she's the Duchess of something. I forget her name," answered the
Doctor-in-Law nonchalantly. "She called the other day while you were
out, and explained that she was a contributor to one of the latest
society magazines, and was anxious to send an illustrated interview
with the Wallypug, to her paper; so--a-hem!--after we had come to
terms, I arranged for her to come to-day and see him. You had better
go and make yourself tidy, hadn't you?" he continued, turning to the
Wallypug.

"Well, really," I interposed, "I think you might have consulted his
Majesty first, before making these arrangements."

"Oh! do you?" said the Doctor-in-Law rudely. "Well, I don't see that
it's any business of yours, my good sir--so there!" and he bounced out
of the room again, rattling his sample tins.

It was nearly eleven then, and a few minutes afterwards a
beautifully-appointed carriage drew up to the door, and Mrs. Putchy
brought up a card inscribed:

 [Illustration: _Her Grace the Duchess of Mortlake._]

and immediately ushered in a fashionably-dressed lady, who smilingly
offered me the tips of her fingers.

"Oh, _how_ do you do? You are the gentleman, I think, who is to
introduce me to his Majesty, are you not?"

"Well, really, your Grace, we have only just heard of the appointment,
but his Majesty the Wallypug will be very pleased to receive you I am
sure."

"And is that his Majesty at the other end of the room?" whispered the
Duchess. "Pray present me."

I made the necessary introduction, and the Duchess gave the regulation
Court 'dip,' which the Wallypug gravely imitated, and then in his
usual simple manner offered his hand with a smile.

 [Illustration: IN THE MOST APPROVED FASHION]

Her Grace made a deep presentation curtsey and bowed over it in the
most approved fashion; but the Wallypug, evidently unused to being
treated with so much ceremony, withdrew it hastily and remarked
nervously but politely:

"Won't you take a seat, madam?"

"Say, 'Your Grace,'" I whispered.

"What for?" asked his Majesty blankly.

"Because this lady is a Duchess, and you must always say 'Your Grace'
when speaking to her," I replied.

"Oh!" said the Wallypug vaguely--then going up to the Duchess he
solemnly said, "I'm Grace."

"No, no!" I explained. "You don't understand me. I mean, when you
speak to this lady you must call her 'Your Grace.'"

"Dear me, how stupid of me, to be sure!" said his Majesty. "I
understand now. I beg your pardon. I meant to say, 'You are my Grace,'
madam," he continued, addressing himself to the Duchess.

Her Grace amiably laughed away this little mistake, and was soon busy
asking questions. The Wallypug, however, got very nervous, and made a
shocking lot of mistakes in his answers. He couldn't even say how old
he was.

"I know I've been in the family for years," he remarked, "and I fancy
I must have come over with William the Conqueror. Such a lot of people
did that, you know, and it's so respectable. I don't remember it, of
course; but then I've been told that I was born very young, and so
naturally I shouldn't do so."

"Does your Majesty remember any of the incidents of your early life?"
asked the Duchess.

"I was considered remarkably bald for my age as an infant," replied
the Wallypug simply. "And I believe I had several measles, and a mump
or two as a child. But I don't wish to boast about them," he added
modestly.

"Where were you educated, your Majesty?" was the next question.

"I wasn't," replied the Wallypug with a sigh.

"Does your Majesty mean that you received no education at all?" asked
the Duchess in surprise.

"Oh! I was taught reading, and writing, and arithmetic, and the use of
the globes, and Latin and Greek, and all that rubbish, of course,"
replied the Wallypug. "But I mean there were no Universities at Why,
where I could receive a higher education, and be taught cricket, and
football, and rowing, and all those classical things taught at Oxford
and Cambridge, you know. I was considered the best boy in my form at
marbles though," he added proudly. "And I could beat any of the
masters at Hop Scotch."

"What is your favourite diet, your Majesty?" came next.

"Oh! jumbles, I think--or bull's eyes. I'm very fond of hardbake too,
and I love cocoa-nut ice."

A few more questions such as these, and her Grace took her departure,
after taking several snap-shot photographs of various articles in the
drawing room.

I felt convinced that with such a scanty amount of information at her
disposal the Duchess would have great difficulty in writing an article
on the Wallypug, and was therefore the more surprised a few days later
to receive a copy of the magazine which her Grace represented, with a
long and particular account of the interview, under the heading of,
"'Why Wallypug and wherefore of Why?' by a Lady of Title." Into it her
Grace had introduced the most preposterous and extravagant statements
about his Majesty.

We learned with amazement that "The Wallypug came of a very ancient
family, and had early been distinguished for many remarkable
accomplishments. While at school his Majesty displayed such a natural
aptitude for learning as to readily out-distance his instructors."

"I suppose that's because I said I played Hop Scotch better than the
masters," commented his Majesty, to whom I was reading the account
aloud.

 [Illustration: THE FAITHFUL HOUND]

Photographs of various articles in the drawing-room, which had no
connection whatever with the Wallypug, were reproduced with the most
extraordinary and absolutely untrue stories attached to them. Dick and
Mrs. Mehetable Murchison appeared as "The Wallypug's favourite cat and
dog," while pathetic stories were told of how the dog had on several
occasions saved his royal master from an untimely and watery grave,
while the cat had prevented him from being burned to death while
reading in bed by gently scratching his nose when he had fallen
asleep, and the candle had set fire to the bed curtains. Sensational
illustrations were also given depicting these incidents, which of
course were purely imaginary.

It was very remarkable to notice though, that directly the article of
the Duchess's appeared, invitations from all sorts of grand people
poured in upon us--and the daily papers suddenly woke up to the fact
that the Wallypug and his suite were very important personages, and
devoted whole columns to "Our Mysterious Foreign Guests," as they
called them.

 [Illustration: THE SAGACIOUS PUSSY]

There was always more or less of a crowd outside the house now, and
when his Majesty drove in the Park, the people all stood up on the
little green seats to get a better view of him as he passed.




CHAPTER IX

THE WALLYPUG'S OWN


It was shortly after this that the Doctor-in-Law, hearing what a vast
fortune might be made in literature, decided to start a magazine of
his own.

 [Illustration: THE DOCTOR-IN-LAW WAS EDITOR]

After a lot of argument it was thought best to call it _The Wallypug's
Own_, as the name was considered a striking one. The first number was
to be a very elaborate affair, and, for weeks before it appeared, all
of my guests were busily engaged in its production.

"There will be a good opportunity for some of your poems appearing at
last," hinted the Doctor-in-Law to the Rhymester, which so delighted
the poor little fellow that he set to work at once upon a number of
new ones. A. Fish, Esq., contributed a very learned article on the
subject of "The Prevalence of Toothache amongst Fish: its Cause and
Treatment"; while the great attraction of the number was an historical
article by the Wallypug on the subject of "Julius Caesar," illustrated
by his Majesty himself. As a special favour, the original drawing was
presented to me by his Majesty, and I am thus enabled to reproduce it
for your benefit. His Majesty confided to me that parts of it were
traced from a picture which appeared in the _Boys' Own Paper_ some
time ago, but of course we did not tell everybody that.

 [Illustration: FROM "THE WALLYPUG'S OWN"]

The essay itself was quite original, and was worded somehow like this:

     "_Julius Caesar was a man, and he lived in Rome. He came over to
     conquer Britain because he heard there was a lot of tin here, and
     when he arrived he said in Latin_, 'Veni, vidi, vici,' _which
     means, 'I have come, and thou wilt have to skedaddle', which has
     been the British motto ever since. But the Ancient Britons who
     lived here then, didn't understand Latin, and so they went for
     Julius Caesar, and shook their fists in his face, and tried to
     drive him and his followers away. But Julius Caesar and the Romans
     were civilized, and had daggers and things, and shields, and wore
     firemen's helmets, and kilts like Scotchmen, so they soon overcame
     the Ancient Britons; and they built London Wall, and made a lot of
     combs, and glass tear-bottles, and brooches, and sarcophaguses,
     that you can see in the Museum at the Guildhall; and then they went
     back to Rome, and Julius Caesar was stabbed by his friend Brutus,
     to show how much he liked him; and Caesar, when he found out he was
     stabbed, cried out in Latin_, 'Et tu, Brute,' _which means 'Oh, you
     brute,' and lived happy ever after. I have drawn the picture of
     Julius Caesar landing in Britain--that's him waving things, and
     calling to the others to come on._"

The Doctor-in-Law was editor, and arranged a number of competitions,
and in order to enter for them you had only to send two shillings in
stamps, while the prizes were advertised as follows: First prize,
L1000 a year for life; second prize, thirty-six grand pianos and
fourteen bicycles; third prize, a sewing machine and six cakes of
scented soap. The prizes were to be awarded for the first correct
answers received by post, but the Doctor-in-Law took good care to
write three sets of answers himself, and put them in our letter-box a
half-an-hour before the first post arrived, so that nobody got prizes
but himself. He made a good deal of money, too, by pretending to tell
your fortune by the creases in your collar. All you had to do was to
send an old collar and fourteen penny stamps, and you would receive a
letter in reply similar to this:

"You are probably either a male or a female, and will no doubt live
till you die. You like to have your own way when you can get it, and
when you can't you get very cross and irritable. You are not so young
as you were a few years ago, and you dislike pain of any kind. You
will remain single until you marry, and whichever you do you will
probably wish you hadn't."

The greatest novelty, however, which the Doctor-in-Law introduced in
his new magazine was his system of telling your character by your
watch and chain. There was no fee charged, and all you had to do was
to send your watch and chain (gold preferred), and the Doctor-in-Law
would tell your character, quite correctly. It generally was as
follows:

"You are a silly donkey, for no one but a donkey would think of
sending his watch and chain to a stranger, and if you imagine that you
will ever see it again, you are greatly mistaken."

The Rhymester only had one poem in after all, as, when it came to the
point, the Doctor-in-Law charged him a guinea a verse for printing it,
and the poor Rhymester could not afford more than one poem at that
rate.

This is what he sent:

 [Illustration]

THE NEW ROBIN.

    The North wind doth blow,
    And we ought to have snow,
    If 'tis true what my nurse used to sing,
                      Poor thing.

    Yet up in yon tree
    Robin Redbreast I see
    As happy and gay as a king,
                      Poor thing.

    Look! as true as I live,
    There's a boy with a sieve
    And a stick and a long piece of string,
                      Poor thing.

    But the bird doesn't care,
    For I hear him declare,
    "Pooh! the old dodge he tried in the Spring,
                      Poor thing."

    "What ridiculous cheek,"
    And he turns up his beak
    Ere he tucks his head under his wing,
                      Poor thing.

 [Illustration]

The poor Rhymester was very disappointed at not being able to publish
more of his poems, so the Doctor-in-Law, to console him, allowed him
to contribute an article on "Fashions for the Month by Our Paris
Model." He made a frightful muddle of it though, not knowing the
proper terms in which to describe the various materials and styles.
Here is an extract, which will show you better than I can tell, the
stupid blunders which he made:

     "_Hats this season are principally worn on the head, and may be
     trimmed with light gauzy stuff wobbled round the crown mixed up
     with various  ribbons, and bunches of artificial flowers
     and fruit._

     "_Artificial vegetables are not much worn, although a cauliflower
     or two and a bunch of carrots, with a few cabbages, would form a
     striking and novel decoration for a hat. If this trimming is
     considered insufficient, a few brightly  tomatoes stuck
     round the brim might be added, and would render the head-gear
     particularly 'chic.'_

     "_Hats for the theatre should be worn large and handsomely trimmed,
     but for the economically inclined--a last year's clothes basket
     trimmed with art muslin, which may be purchased of any good draper
     at 1-3/4d. a yard, cut on the cross and tucked with chiffons, would
     form a sweetly simple hat, and if tied beneath the chin with an
     aigrette, and the front filled in with sequins, it would readily be
     mistaken for one of the new early Victorian bonnets which continue
     to be worn by the upper housemaids in most aristocratic families._

     _"I hear that dresses are to be worn again this year by ladies. The
     most fashionable ones will be made of various sorts of material._

     _"A charming walking costume suitable for the Autumn may be made of
     shaded grenadine, trimmed with buckram pom-poms, made up on the
     selvedge edge."_

There was a lot more nonsense of this kind which I did not at all
understand, but which some lady friends who understood these things
made great fun of.

You will be surprised, no doubt, to hear that in a weak moment I
allowed myself to be persuaded into contributing a little experience
of my own.

The Rhymester told me that it was shockingly bad rhyme, but I think
that he was jealous because the Doctor-in-Law published it. Anyhow,
here it is, so you can judge for yourself. I call it

HE AND I AND IT.

    Oh HE was a Publisher
    And I was a Publishee,
      And IT was a book
      Which the Publisher took
    And pub-l-i-s-h-e-d.

    The Publisher's smile it was bland,
    'Twas a beautiful smile to see,
      As again and again
      He took pains to explain
    How large my "half-profits" _might_ be.

    IT had a capital sale,
    Well reviewed by the _Times_ and _D.T._,
      And a great many more,
      So my friends by the score
    Came around to congratulate me.

 [Illustration: IT HAD A CAPITAL SALE]

    And people I scarcely had met,
    Just "dropped in" to afternoon tea;
      While my aunt, who's a swell,
      _Now_ remembered quite well
    That I was related to she.

    And girls that were rich and plain,
    Or pretty and poor, did agree
      To let me suppose
      That I'd but to propose
    To be m-a-r-r-i-e-d.

 [Illustration: MY FRIENDS ALL TURNED TAIL]

     Yes, HE published IT in the Spring,
     That season of frolic and glee;
       "In the Autumn," HE said,
       Gravely nodding his head,
    "'Half-profits' will mean L.S.D."

     But Autumn has come and gone,
     And I'm so to say, "All at sea,"
       For HE sobs and HE sighs
       And HE turns up his eyes
     When I ask what my "half-profits" be.

     There are "charges for this, and for that,"
     And for "things that HE couldn't foresee,"
       And HE "very much fears,"
       So he says twixt his tears,
    "That there won't be a penny for me."

     Oh! rich is the Publisher
     And poor is the Publishee;
       Of the profits of IT
       I shall touch not a bit,
     They are all swallowed up by HE.

     The girls now all treat me with scorn--
     Aunt turns up her n-o-s-e,
       And my friends all turn tail,
       While my book they assail
     And call rubbish and twad-d-l-e.

Even One-and-Nine and General Mary Jane were smitten with a desire to
rush into print, and I overheard them concocting a tragic Love Story
in the kitchen, and they were highly indignant later on, because the
Doctor-in-Law would not accept it. You can hardly wonder at it though,
for it really was too bad for anything.

It was called "The Viscount's Revenge," and in it several characters
who had been killed in the first part of the book kept cropping up all
through the story in a most confusing manner, while One-and-Nine and
General Mary Jane could not agree as to whether the heroine should be
dark or fair, so in one part of the book she had beautiful golden hair
and blue eyes, and in another she was described as "darkly, proudly
handsome, with a wealth of dusky hair and eyes as black as night."

 [Illustration: THE LITERARY HOUSEMAID]

At the last moment it was found necessary to include another poem in
the magazine, and, as all of the Rhymester's were too long, the
Doctor-in-Law decided to write one himself, which he called

COMMERCIAL PROBLEMS.

    Why doth the little busy bee
      Not charge so much an hour,
    For gathering honey day by day
      From every opening flower?

    And can you tell me why, good sir,
      The birds receive no pay
    For singing sweetly in the grove
      Throughout the livelong day?

    Why flow'rs should bloom about the place
      And give their perfume free,
    In so unbusinesslike a way,
      Seems very odd to me.

    I cannot meet a single cow
      That charges for her milk,
    And though they are not paid a sou,
      The silkworms still spin silk.

    While ducks and hens, I grieve to find,
      Lay eggs for nothing too,
    Which is a most ridiculous
      And foolish thing to do.

    These problems often puzzle me;
      I lie awake at night,
    And think and think what I can do
      To set this matter right.

    I've found a way at last, and though
      It may at first seem funny,
    It cannot fail--'tis this: _You_ pay,
      And _I'll_ collect the money.




CHAPTER X

THE WALLYPUG GOES TO WINDSOR


While they were all busy in the preparation of _The Wallypug's Own_, I
thought it an excellent opportunity to run down to Folkestone in order
to make arrangements for hiring a house, as I intended taking my
guests to the seaside for a few weeks.

I felt a little anxious about leaving them to themselves, but hoped
that they would be too busy and interested in the new magazine to get
into trouble.

It was most unfortunate that I should have gone just then though, for
directly I had left the Wallypug received a polite letter from one of
the Court officials to say that the Queen would be pleased to receive
his Majesty and suite at Windsor on the following day.

 [Illustration: A ROYAL INVITATION]

Of course, as you may imagine, the Wallypug was in a great state of
excitement at receiving this royal invitation, and wished to telegraph
at once for me to return and advise them how to act and what to do, on
this important occasion; however, the Doctor-in-Law, so I have been
given to understand, persuaded his Majesty not to do anything of the
sort, and added that I "was always poking about and interfering, and
was better out of the way"; so his Majesty, who was very anxious to do
the right thing, consulted Mrs. Putchy as to the proper costume to be
worn, and the etiquette to be observed.

"Well, your Majesty," remarked Mrs. Putchy in reply, "I scarcely know
what to advise. When in my younger days, I acted as lady's maid to the
Countess of Wembley, I know her ladyship wore a Court train and
carried a bouquet when she was presented to the Queen."

"Where did the engine go?" asked his Majesty curiously.

"The engine!" exclaimed Mrs. Putchy.

"Yes; you said she wore a train, didn't you?" said the Wallypug.

"Oh! but I didn't mean that kind of train," laughed Mrs. Putchy; "I
meant a long sort of cloak fastened on to the shoulders and trailing
along the ground at the back--they are generally made of satin and
velvet, and are decorated with flowers and feathers and lace, and that
sort of thing. Your Majesty's cloak would do nicely if I trimmed it
for you."

"But are you sure that gentlemen wear these sort of things?" inquired
the Wallypug.

"Well, I couldn't rightly say, your Majesty, but I'm sure I've seen
pictures of kings and such like wearing trains which were borne by
pages, so I feel sure your Majesty would be safe in wearing one."

So it was arranged that, after having been carefully brushed, his
Majesty's velvet cloak was to be gaily decorated with lace and large
bunches of flowers, and, to make the thing complete, a large bouquet
was tied around his sceptre, and, at the Rhymester's suggestion,
little knots of flowers were attached to the knobs of his Majesty's
crown.

The little man was highly delighted with his appearance when all these
arrangements were concluded, and could get but very little sleep that
night for thinking of the great honour which was to be his the next
day.

The whole household was early astir in the morning, and at about
eleven o'clock the carriage came to take the royal guests to the
station.

Arrived at Waterloo, the Doctor-in-Law, after making various inquiries
as to the price of the tickets, etc., actually had the meanness,
despite the remonstrance of the railway officials, to insist upon the
whole party travelling down third-class, remarking that he "found the
third-class carriages reached there quite as soon as the first, and a
penny saved was a penny gained."

The station master at Windsor was particularly put out about it, as,
in honour of his Majesty's visit, the station had been gaily decorated
and a carpet laid down to the carriage door. His Majesty, however,
made a brave show as he walked up the platform preceded by the
Doctor-in-Law, his gaily decorated train borne by the Rhymester, and
followed by A. Fish, Esq., and One-and-Nine, the latter carrying a
mysterious bandbox, which contained a present from the Wallypug to her
Majesty. (See frontispiece.)

Inside and out the station was crowded with curious spectators, all
eager to catch a glimpse of his Majesty and his remarkable retinue,
and cheer after cheer resounded as the station master, bare-headed and
bowing, ushered the party to the royal carriage with the red and
gold-liveried servants, which had been sent from the castle to meet
them.

The bells were ringing, and the streets were crowded as they drove
through the old town, and his Majesty thoroughly enjoyed the drive,
while the Doctor-in-Law was quite in his element amidst all this fuss
and excitement.

I did not care to inquire too fully into the details of his Majesty's
interview with the Queen, but I was given to understand that the whole
party was treated with the utmost kindness.

Her Majesty graciously accepted at the Wallypug's hands a gilded
crown, an exact copy of the one he wore himself, and which he had had
made expressly for her Majesty, having been struck by the fact that
her Majesty's real crown was always kept locked up in the Tower, and
hoping that perhaps this one would do for second best.

I could not gather that her Majesty had actually promised to wear it,
but I do know that the Wallypug was made exceedingly proud and happy
by the gift of a portrait of her Majesty herself, with the royal
autograph attached, and that he will always remember the occasion of
his visit to Windsor, and the kindness with which he was treated by
everyone, particularly by the little Princes and Princesses, her
Majesty's great grand-children, who led him about the Castle grounds,
and showed him their pets, and the flowers, and conservatories, and
all the wonderful sights of that wonderful place.

In the evening there was a dinner party, at which her Majesty did not
appear, and early the next morning a royal carriage again drove them
to the station _en route_ for London.

All this I learned on my return from Folkestone. I also heard of an
extraordinary evening party which had been given at my house during my
absence. It appears that the invitations had been sent out by the
Doctor-in-Law the very day upon which I left, and about thirty guests,
including the Duchess of Mortlake, had been invited. Unfortunately,
however, this visit to Windsor had entirely driven the matter from the
Wallypug's mind, and the others had forgotten about it too, and so a
pretty confusion was the result.

It appears that one evening about seven o'clock they were all in the
kitchen making toffee, having persuaded Mrs. Putchy to let them have
the frying-pan and some sugar and butter, and it having been cooking
for some time the Doctor-in-Law had just told the Wallypug to stick
his finger in and see if it was done, when Mrs. Putchy came in to say
that some ladies and gentlemen had arrived, and were waiting in the
drawing-room.

 [Illustration: TO SEE IF IT WAS DONE]

All of a sudden it flashed upon their minds that _this_ was the
evening upon which they had invited their visitors to the party.
Whatever was to be done? Not the slightest preparation had been
made--and his Majesty and the others were all more or less in a sticky
condition, and quite unfit to be seen by company.

A hurried consultation took place, during which they could hear more
and more guests arriving, and at last, by a brilliant inspiration, the
Doctor-in-Law thought of making it a surprise party, similar to those
given in America.

"It won't cost us anything either," he remarked complacently.

"But what is a surprise party?" asked the others.

"Never mind, you'll see presently," remarked the little man. "Run and
wash your hands now and make yourselves tidy."

A few minutes later the whole party filed into the drawing-room, the
Wallypug looking rather blank and nervous, and the Doctor-in-Law full
of profuse apologies for having kept the guests waiting so long.

"By the way," he remarked airily, "I suppose you all know that it's a
surprise party."

"Dear me, no," said the Duchess of Mortlake, speaking for the others.
"Whatever is that; I don't think it was mentioned on the cards of
invitation, was it?"

"Ah! a trifling oversight," remarked the Doctor-in-Law. "A surprise
party," he continued in explanation, "is one at which each guest is
expected to contribute something towards the supper--some bring one
thing and some another. What have you brought, may I ask, your Grace?"

"Well, really," said the Duchess, "I've never heard of such a thing in
my life before. I've not brought anything at all, of course; I'm
surprised at your asking me such a question."

"Ah, yes, just so," remarked the Doctor-in-Law triumphantly, "just
what I told you--a _surprise_ party, don't you see! Now, what I would
advise is that you should all go out and order various things to be
sent in for supper; we, for our part, will provide some excellent
toffee, and then you can come back and help us to set the tables and
all that sort of thing, you know--it's the greatest fun in the world,
I assure you."

And really the little man carried it off with such gaiety, that
entering into the spirit of the thing the guests really did as he
suggested, and went out and ordered the things, and afterwards came
back, and, amidst great laughter and fun, the tables were laid, every
one doing some share of the work, with the exception of the
Doctor-in-Law, who contented himself with directing the others and
chatting to the ladies.

 [Illustration: THE WALLYPUG HELPS]

The poor dear Wallypug amiably toiled backward and forward between the
kitchen and dining-room with great piles of plates and other heavy
articles, and A. Fish, Esq., in his eagerness to help, was continually
treading on his own tail, upsetting himself and the various dishes
entrusted to his charge.

 [Illustration: A. FISH, ESQ., UPSET]

At last, however, the supper was set, and the merriest evening you can
possibly imagine was spent by the guests. His Majesty was in capital
spirits, and after supper suggested a little dancing, which suggestion
was hailed with delight by the others, and, having moved some of the
furniture out of the drawing-room and pushed the rest away into
corners, the Wallypug led off with her Grace the Duchess of Mortlake,
and quite distinguished himself in "Sir Roger de Coverley." Afterwards
there was a little singing and music, several of the guests
contributing to the evening's entertainment. Amongst other items was a
song by A. Fish, Esq., rendered as well as his bad cold would permit,
of which the first lines ran:

    I'b siddig here ad lookig at the bood, love,
      Ad thinkig ov the habby days of old,
    Wed you ad I had each a wooded spood, love,
      To eat our porridge wed we had a cold.

Altogether the evening was such a success that her Grace declared that
it should not be her fault if surprise parties were not the fashion in
Society during the coming winter.




CHAPTER XI

HIS MAJESTY AT THE SEASIDE


I sent Mrs. Putchy and General Mary Jane down to the house, which I
had engaged on the "Lees" at Folkestone, the day before we were to go,
in order to see that everything was ready for us.

"The only thing that is wrong is the kitchen chimney, and that smokes,
sir," said Mrs. Putchy, in answer to my inquiry on the night of our
arrival. "I think that we had better have the sweep in the morning,
sir."

"Very well, Mrs. Putchy, I'm sure you know best," I replied, and
thought no more of the matter.

Early in the morning, however, I was awakened by screams and cries
proceeding from the lower part of the house.

"Help! help! Burglars! Fire and police! Thieves!" screamed a voice,
and hastily dressing myself, I rushed out into the passage, and was
confronted by the Rhymester, who had evidently just jumped out of bed,
and who, though it was broad daylight, bore a lighted candle in one
hand, and a pair of fire tongs in the other.

His teeth were chattering with fright, and his knees were knocking
together from the same cause.

"What's the matter," I asked in alarm.

"Oh! oh! there are burglars in the house," he cried excitedly, "and
the others have gone down to them; I'm sure they'll be killed--I told
them not to go, but they would. Let's go and hide under a bed
somewhere. Oh! oh, what will become of us?"

"Don't be such a coward," I cried, hurrying down stairs, while the
poor little Rhymester, afraid to be left alone upstairs, tremblingly
followed.

Sure enough there was a sound of struggling going on, and voices
raised in loud dispute.

"Oh, that story won't do for me," I heard the Doctor-in-Law exclaim.

"But I tell yez, sor," chimed in another strange voice, "I waz only
going to----"

"Never mind what you were going to do, give up the sack," said the
Doctor-in-Law.

Then there were sounds of struggling, and amidst the confusion a voice
saying:

"Hold him down! Sit on him! That's right! Now for the sack."

And, bursting the door open, a curious sight met my eyes. A poor sweep
lay flat upon the floor, with the Wallypug sitting upon him, and
One-and-Nine keeping guard; while the Doctor-in-Law and A. Fish, Esq.,
examined his bag of soot in the corner. The poor little Rhymester
summoned up sufficient courage to peep in at the doorway, and stood
there making a piteous picture, with his white face and trembling
limbs.

"Whatever is the matter," I inquired as soon as I entered.

"We've caught him!" exclaimed his Majesty, complacently wriggling his
toes about.

"But what's he been doing," I asked.

 [Illustration: "WE'VE CAUGHT HIM!"]

"Av ye plaze, sor," groaned the man, panting beneath the Wallypug's
weight, "I have been doing nothing at all, at all. I waz just
a-finishin' me warrak of swapin' the chimneys, wen one ov the ould
gintleman came up an' poked me in the nose with a sthick, and the
other ould gintleman knocked me over and sthole me bag, while the
soger hild me down till the other gintleman sat on me--it's among a
lot of murtherin' thaves I've got entoirely, savin' yer presince,
sor."

"The man is a burglar," declared the Doctor-in-Law emphatically. "I
happened to hear a very suspicious noise down here, and calling to the
others, rushed down just in time to catch this man making off with a
bag of things. I think he was trying to escape up the chimney, for his
head was half-way up when we entered, and this bag, which evidently
contains plunder of some kind, is covered with soot too."

"Why, the man is a sweep, and was sweeping the chimney," I cried,
pointing to his brushes and sticks; and after a lot of explanations
the man was told to get up and his Majesty, followed by the others,
retired to his bedroom, evidently greatly disappointed that it was not
a real burglar that they had been combating.

The sweep, who was a very good-natured Irishman, took it in very good
part, and the present of half-a-crown sent him away quite reconciled
to his assailants.

The Rhymester afterwards made a great boast that he had not taken any
part in the melee.

"Of course I knew all along that he wasn't a burglar," he declared,
"and that's the reason why I wouldn't interfere."

"You managed to do a good deal of screaming though, I noticed,"
remarked the Doctor-in-Law grumpily.

"Ah! that was only for fun," asserted the Rhymester.

This was really about the only remarkable incident which occurred
during our holiday at Folkestone, which passed very pleasantly and
very quietly. We went for a sea bathe nearly every day, and his
Majesty would insist upon wearing his crown in the water on every
occasion.

"No one will know that I am a king if I don't," he declared; and I am
bound to admit that his Majesty did not look very regal in his bathing
costume, particularly when he was dripping with water and his long
straight hair hung half over his face, and even when he wore his
crown he was continually catching bits of seaweed in it, which gave
him a singularly untidy appearance for a king.

 [Illustration: HIS MAJESTY DID NOT LOOK VERY REGAL]

A. Fish, Esq., with the assistance of a lifebuoy, nearly learned to
swim while we were down there; but the Doctor-in-Law thought that
hiring bathing machines was a foolish waste of money, and contented
himself with taking off his shoes and stockings and paddling, which he
could do without having to pay. One day, however, he was knocked
completely over by an incoming wave, and got wet to the skin.

We could never persuade the Rhymester either, to go out further than
just to his knees; but I rather fancy that that was because he was
afraid of wetting his bathing costume, of which he was particularly
proud, and which was decorated with smart little bows of ribbon
wherever they could be conveniently put.

Fear may have had something to do with it though, for I noticed that
he always clung very tightly to the rope, and never by any chance went
beyond its length.

The switchback railway was a source of infinite amusement, and a great
deal of time was spent on it. Boating was not much indulged in, as it
made one or two of the party, particularly A. Fish, Esq., very ill;
but we all enjoyed the beautiful drives in the neighbourhood. There
was an excellent Punch and Judy show in the town too, which so
fascinated his Majesty that we could scarcely tear him away whenever
he joined the admiring crowd which daily surrounded it.

The fickle One-and-Nine, while we were here, fell in love with a wax
figure exhibited in a hair-dresser's window in Sandgate Road. It
represented a beautiful lady with her hair dressed in the latest
fashion, and the wooden soldier was greatly infatuated. He spent
hours gazing through the window, watching the lady slowly revolve by
clockwork; and he became frightfully jealous of the hair-dresser, whom
he caught one morning rearranging the drapery around the lady's
shoulders.

Eventually, with the assistance of the Rhymester, he composed the
following piece of poetry--which he stuck, by means of six gelatine
sweets, on to the hair-dresser's window with the writing inside, in
order that the lady might see it.

TO THE BEAUTIFUL LADY IN THE HAIRDRESSER'S WINDOW.

    I love you, oh! I love you,
      And I beg you to be mine;
    I'm a gallant wooden soldier,
      And my name is 1/9.

    If you will only marry me,
      'Twill be the greatest fun
    To puzzle folks by telling them,
      That we're both 2/1.

    'Twill be the truth, for man and wife
      Are one, I beg to state,
    This fact's as clear as 4/4,
      Or 2/6 make 8.

    They tell me, dear, you have no feet;
      But what is that to me?
    2 feet be 4/2 behind
      On animals you see.

    That you have none, is 0 to me,
      Dear 1/4 your sake,
    No trifles such as these shall e'er
      My true affections shake.

    I bought some penny tarts for you,
      But I am much distrest
    To tell you by mistake I sat
      On 1/8 the rest.

One-and-Nine was quite happy in finding that the paper had disappeared
from the shop window when he passed by a little later, and declared
that it must mean that the lady had accepted him and his poetry.

I think the funniest incident of all though, in connection with our
visit to Folkestone, was when his Majesty and the others went into
Carlo Maestrani's for some ices.

They had never tasted any before, and were very much surprised to find
them so cold. I shall never forget the expression on the Wallypug's
face when, having rather greedily taken a very large mouthful, he
could not swallow it, or dispose of it in any way. A. Fish, Esq.,
declared that it gave him a violent toothache; while the Doctor-in-Law
called for the waiter, and insisted upon him taking it away.

 [Illustration: "IT'S NOT PROPERLY COOKED"]

"It's not properly cooked," he declared angrily. "It's cold."

"Cook, sare, no, sare, it is not cook," agreed the waiter.

"Very well, then, take it away and bring us some that is. Have it
warmed up; do something with it. It's disgraceful bringing us stuff
like that."

And no argument or persuasion would convince the little man that the
ices were as they should be.




CHAPTER XII

THE DEPARTURE


We remained at Folkestone till the latter part of September, and then
returned to London just about the time that the first number of _The
Wallypug's Own_ made its appearance.

It caused quite a sensation in literary circles, and was mentioned by
most of the papers; but it did _not_ turn out a monetary success, and
so the Doctor-in-Law declared that he must devise some other means of
making money.

We had been once or twice to the circus, and I fancy that it must
have been his intention to start something of the sort himself, for I
caught him one day trying to teach his Majesty to walk the tight-rope;
but as he had only tied the rope between two very light chairs the
result was not very satisfactory, particularly to the poor Wallypug,
who came to the ground with a terrific crash.

A. Fish, Esq., dressed as a clown, and certainly looked very funny;
but his bad cold prevented him from speaking his jokes distinctly, and
so the idea was given up.

 [Illustration: THE RESULT WAS NOT SATISFACTORY]

In fact it was not till November that the Doctor-in-Law hit upon a
plan which seemed to give him any great satisfaction. We had been
talking a great deal about Guy Fawkes' day and the fireworks at the
Crystal Palace, which we intended going to see in the evening, and
the Doctor-in-Law had been particularly curious to know all about the
day and its customs. He did not say much about his plans, but I felt
sure that he was up to some of his tricks, for I caught him several
times whispering mysteriously to the Rhymester and A. Fish, Esq., and
I noticed that they were all particularly kind and respectful to his
Majesty, as though they wished to keep him in a good humour.

On the morning of the fifth, when I came down to breakfast, I was
greatly surprised to find that the whole party had gone out about an
hour previous, after borrowing from Mrs. Putchy a kitchen chair, four
broomsticks, and a long piece of clothes-line. Whatever were they up
to?

I asked Mrs. Putchy if they had left any message, but no--they had
said nothing as to where they were going, what they were going to do,
or when they would be back; and the only thing that had struck Mrs.
Putchy as being at all remarkable about their appearance, was the fact
that the Rhymester had added little bows of  ribbon to his
costume, and wore a tall pointed cap gaily decorated with streamers,
and a deep white frill around his neck--the others were dressed as
usual.

I felt sure that some mischief was brewing, and could not settle down
to my work for thinking of them. About eleven o'clock I went out to
see if I could find any traces of my guests. I had been walking about
unsuccessfully for about an hour, when I heard some boys shouting, and
turning to look in their direction, I beheld his Majesty calmly seated
in a chair which, by means of long poles attached to it, was being
carried along by the Rhymester and A. Fish, Esq.

They were followed by a crowd of people who were cheering lustily, and
the Doctor-in-Law was rushing about collecting money in his hat, and
entreating the people "not to forget the fifth of November," and
repeating some doggerel verse about:

    "Guy Fawkes guy,
       Stick him up high;
     Stick him on a lamp-post,
       And there let him die,"

while several little boys were dancing about in great excitement, and
shouting, "Holler, boys! holler! here's another guy."

 [Illustration: A TRIUMPHAL PROCESSION]

His Majesty evidently regarded it as a great compliment to himself,
and complacently bowed right and left with considerable dignity. And I
found out that the Doctor-in-Law had persuaded him into believing that
this triumphal procession had been arranged solely in his Majesty's
honour.

I was naturally very vexed at the poor Wallypug being imposed upon in
this manner, and spoke very plainly to the Doctor-in-Law about it on
our way home, and I think the little man must have taken it very much
to heart, for he seemed quite subdued, and actually himself suggested
sharing the proceeds of the collection with the others.

We went to see the fireworks in the evening, and I don't ever remember
seeing the party in such excellent spirits as they were that night.

Mrs. Putchy had prepared a capital supper for us on our return, and I
love to remember my friends as they appeared sitting around the supper
table talking over the adventures and excitements of the day. I can
see them now whenever I close my eyes--the dear old Wallypug at the
head of the table, with One-and-Nine in attendance, and the others
all talking at once about the jolly time they had had at the Skating
Rink in the afternoon, when A. Fish, Esq., had vainly tried to get
along with roller-skates fastened on to his tail.

 [Illustration: A CAPITAL STORY]

I say I love to remember them thus, for it was the last occasion upon
which we were all together. Early the next morning Mrs. Putchy came to
my room, and in a very agitated voice said, "Please sir, I'm afraid
that there is something wrong; I have knocked at his Majesty's door
and can get no answer, and the Doctor-in-Law's room is empty too."

I hurried down, and on the breakfast table I found a letter addressed
to me, in which his Majesty, on behalf of the others, thanked me very
heartily for my hospitality, and explained that State matters of the
utmost importance had necessitated their immediate return to Why. How
they went I have never been able to discover.

The outer door of my flat was found to be locked on the inside as
usual, and the windows were all fastened; besides which, as they were
some distance from the ground, the Royal party could scarcely have got
out that way.

Altogether the whole affair was involved in a mystery which I have
never been able to solve to this day. Of course I miss my strange,
but withal lovable visitors, very much, and I value very highly the
several little mementoes of their visit which remained behind. Amongst
others is a cheque of the Doctor-in-Law's for a considerable amount;
which, however, I shall never be able to cash, as it is drawn upon the
bank of, "Don't-you-wish-you-may-get-it," at Why.

General Mary Jane was inconsolable for some time after the departure
of her soldier hero, but eventually married our milkman, a very
steady and respectable man in the neighbourhood. Girlie and Boy and
many other friends of the Wallypug greatly regretted that they were
unable to say good-bye to his Majesty before he left; and often and
often, as I sit alone in my study, I think about the simple-natured,
good-hearted little fellow, and his remarkable followers, and wonder
if I shall ever see them again. Who knows?

 [Illustration: I OFTEN THINK OF THEM]


                               THE END


             GLASGOW: PRINTED AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS BY
                       ROBERT MACLEHOSE AND CO.


       *       *       *       *       *




 A CATALOGUE OF BOOKS
 AND ANNOUNCEMENTS OF
 METHUEN AND COMPANY
 PUBLISHERS: LONDON
 36 ESSEX STREET
 W.C.

CONTENTS


                                  PAGE
 FORTHCOMING BOOKS,                  2
 POETRY,                            10
 BELLES LETTRES,                    11
 ILLUSTRATED BOOKS,                 13
 HISTORY,                           14
 BIOGRAPHY,                         16
 TRAVEL, ADVENTURE AND TOPOGRAPHY,  18
 GENERAL LITERATURE,                19
 SCIENCE,                           21
 PHILOSOPHY,                        22
 THEOLOGY,                          22
 LEADERS OF RELIGION,               24
 FICTION,                           25
 BOOKS FOR BOYS AND GIRLS,          34
 THE PEACOCK LIBRARY,               35
 UNIVERSITY EXTENSION SERIES,       35
 SOCIAL QUESTIONS OF TO-DAY,        36
 CLASSICAL TRANSLATIONS,            37
 EDUCATIONAL BOOKS,                 38

NOVEMBER 1897




                        NOVEMBER 1897.
 MESSRS. METHUEN'S
 ANNOUNCEMENTS


 #Poetry#


 SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. Edited, with an Introduction and Notes,
 by GEORGE WYNDHAM, M.P. _Crown 8vo._   _Buckram. 6s._

   This is a volume of the sonnets and lesser poems of Shakespeare,
   and is prefaced with an elaborate Introduction by Mr. Wyndham.


 ENGLISH LYRICS. Selected and Edited by W. E. HENLEY.
 _Crown 8vo._   _Buckram. 6s._

   Also 15 copies on Japanese paper. _Demy 8vo._   _L2, 2s. net._

   Few announcements will be more welcome to lovers of English verse
   than the one that Mr. Henley is bringing together into one book the
   finest lyrics in our language.


 NURSERY RHYMES. With many  Pictures. By F. D. BEDFORD.
 _Small 4to._   _5s._

   This book has many beautiful designs in colour to illustrate the
   old rhymes.


 THE ODYSSEY OF HOMER. A Translation by J. G. CORDERY.
 _Crown 8vo._   _7s. 6d._


 #Travel and Adventure#


 BRITISH CENTRAL AFRICA. By Sir H. H. JOHNSTON, K.C.B. With nearly
 Two Hundred Illustrations, and Six Maps. _Crown 4to._   _30s. net._

   CONTENTS.--(1) The History of Nyasaland and British Central Africa
   generally. (2) A detailed description of the races and languages of
   British Central Africa. (3) Chapters on the European settlers and
   missionaries; the Fauna, the Flora, minerals, and scenery. (4) A
   chapter on the prospects of the country.


 WITH THE GREEKS IN THESSALY. By W. KINNAIRD ROSE, Reuter's
 Correspondent. With Plans and 23 Illustrations. _Crown 8vo._   _6s._

   A history of the operations in Thessaly by one whose brilliant
   despatches from the seat of war attracted universal attention.


 THE BENIN MASSACRE. By CAPTAIN BOISRAGON. With Portrait and Map.
 _Crown 8vo._   _3s. 6d._

   This volume is written by one of the two survivors who escaped the
   terrible massacre in Benin at the beginning of this year. The author
   relates in detail his adventures and his extraordinary escape, and
   adds a description of the country and of the events which led up to
   the outbreak.


 FROM TONKIN TO INDIA. By PRINCE HENRI OF ORLEANS. Translated by HAMLEY
 BENT, M.A. With 80 Illustrations and a Map. _Crown 4to._   _25s._

   The travels of Prince Henri in 1895 from China to the valley of the
   Bramaputra covered a distance of 2100 miles, of which 1600 was through
   absolutely unexplored country. No fewer than seventeen ranges of
   mountains were crossed at altitudes of from 11,000 to 13,000 feet. The
   journey was made memorable by the discovery of the sources of the
   Irrawaddy. To the physical difficulties of the journey were added
   dangers from the attacks of savage tribes. The book deals with many of
   the burning political problems of the East, and it will be found a
   most important contribution to the literature of adventure and
   discovery.


 THREE YEARS IN SAVAGE AFRICA. By LIONEL DECLE. With an Introduction by
 H. M. STANLEY, M.P. With 100 Illustrations and 5 Maps.
 _Demy 8vo._   _21s._

   Few Europeans have had the same opportunity of studying the barbarous
   parts of Africa as Mr. Decle. Starting from the Cape, he visited in
   succession Bechuanaland, the Zambesi, Matabeleland and Mashonaland,
   the Portuguese settlement on the Zambesi, Nyasaland, Ujiji, the
   headquarters of the Arabs, German East Africa, Uganda (where he saw
   fighting in company with the late Major 'Roddy' Owen), and British
   East Africa. In his book he relates his experiences, his minute
   observations of native habits and customs, and his views as to the
   work done in Africa by the various European Governments, whose
   operations he was able to study. The whole journey extended over 7000
   miles, and occupied exactly three years.


 WITH THE MOUNTED INFANTRY IN MASHONALAND. By Lieut.-Colonel ALDERSON.
 With numerous Illustrations and Plans. _Demy 8vo._   _12s. 6d._

   This is an account of the military operations in Mashonaland by the
   officer who commanded the troops in that district during the late
   rebellion. Besides its interest as a story of warfare, it will have a
   peculiar value as an account of the services of mounted infantry by
   one of the chief authorities on the subject.


 THE HILL OF THE GRACES: OR, THE GREAT STONE TEMPLES OF TRIPOLI. By
 H. S. COWPER, F.S.A. With Maps, Plans, and 75 Illustrations.
 _Demy 8vo._   _10s. 6d._

   A record of two journeys through Tripoli in 1895 and 1896. The book
   treats of a remarkable series of megalithic temples which have
   hitherto been uninvestigated, and contains a large amount of new
   geographical and archaeological matter.


 ADVENTURE AND EXPLORATION IN AFRICA. By Captain A. ST. H. GIBBONS,
 F.R.G.S. With Illustrations by C. WHYMPER, and Maps. _Demy 8vo._   _21s._

   This is an account of travel and adventure among the Marotse and
   contiguous tribes, with a description of their customs,
   characteristics, and history, together with the author's experiences
   in hunting big game. The illustrations are by Mr. Charles Whymper, and
   from photographs. There is a map by the author of the hitherto
   unexplored regions lying between the Zambezi and Kafukwi rivers and
   from 18 deg. to 15 deg. S. lat.


 #History and Biography#


 A HISTORY OF EGYPT, FROM THE EARLIEST TIMES TO THE PRESENT DAY. Edited
 by W. M. FLINDERS PETRIE, D.C.L., LL.D., Professor of Egyptology at
 University College. _Fully Illustrated._   _In Six Volumes._
 _Crown 8vo._   _6s. each._

   VOL. V. ROMAN EGYPT. By J. G. MILNE.


 THE DECLINE AND FALL OF THE ROMAN EMPIRE. By EDWARD GIBBON. A New
 Edition, edited with Notes, Appendices, and Maps by J. B. BURY, M.A.,
 Fellow of Trinity College, Dublin. _In Seven Volumes._   _Demy 8vo, gilt
 top._   _8s. 6d. each._   _Crown 8vo._   _6s. each._   _Vol. IV._


 THE LETTERS OF VICTOR HUGO. Translated from the French by F. CLARKE,
 M.A. _In Two Volumes._   _Demy 8vo._   _10s. 6d. each._   _Vol. II._
 1835-72.

   This is the second volume of one of the most interesting and important
   collection of letters ever published in France. The correspondence
   dates from Victor Hugo's boyhood to his death, and none of the letters
   have been published before.


 A HISTORY OF THE GREAT NORTHERN RAILWAY, 1845-95. By C. H. GRINLING.
 With Maps and Illustrations. _Demy 8vo._   _10s. 6d._

   A record of Railway enterprise and development in Northern England,
   containing much matter hitherto unpublished. It appeals both to the
   general reader and to those specially interested in railway
   construction and management.


 A HISTORY OF BRITISH COLONIAL POLICY. By H. E. EGERTON, M.A.
 _Demy 8vo._   _12s. 6d._

   This book deals with British Colonial policy historically from the
   beginnings of English colonisation down to the present day. The
   subject has been treated by itself, and it has thus been possible
   within a reasonable compass to deal with a mass of authority which
   must otherwise be sought in the State papers. The volume is divided
   into five parts:--(1) The Period of Beginnings, 1497-1650; (2) Trade
   Ascendancy, 1651-1830; (3) The Granting of Responsible Government,
   1831-1860; (4) _Laissez Aller_, 1861-1885; (5) Greater Britain.


 A HISTORY OF ANARCHISM. By E. V. ZENKER. Translated from the German.
 _Demy 8vo._   _10s. 6d._

   A critical study and history, as well as a powerful and trenchant
   criticism, of the Anarchist movement in Europe. The book has aroused
   considerable attention on the Continent.


 THE LIFE OF ERNEST RENAN. By MADAME DARMESTETER. With Portrait.
 _Crown 8vo._   _6s._

   A biography of Renan by one of his most intimate friends.


 A LIFE OF DONNE. By AUGUSTUS JESSOPP, D.D. With Portrait.
 _Crown 8vo._   _3s. 6d._

   This is a new volume of the 'Leaders of Religion' series, from the
   learned and witty pen of the Rector of Scarning, who has been able
   to embody the results of much research.


 OLD HARROW DAYS. By J. G. COTTON MINCHIN. _Crown 8vo._   _5s._

   A volume of reminiscences which will be interesting to old Harrovians
   and to many of the general public.


 #Theology#


 A PRIMER OF THE BIBLE. By Prof. W. H. BENNETT. _Crown 8vo._   _2s. 6d._

   This Primer sketches the history of the books which make up the Bible,
   in the light of recent criticism. It gives an account of their
   character, origin, and composition, as far as possible in
   chronological order, with special reference to their relations to one
   another and to the history of Israel and the Church. The formation of
   the Canon is illustrated by chapters on the Apocrypha (Old and New
   Testament); and there is a brief notice of the history of the Bible
   since the close of the Canon.


 LIGHT AND LEAVEN: HISTORICAL AND SOCIAL SERMONS. By the Rev. H.
 HENSLEY HENSON, M.A., Fellow of All Souls', Incumbent of St. Mary's
 Hospital, Ilford. _Crown 8vo._   _6s._


 _Devotional Series_


 THE CONFESSIONS OF ST. AUGUSTINE. Newly Translated, with an
 Introduction, by C. BIGG, D.D., late Student of Christ Church. With a
 Frontispiece. _18mo._   _1s. 6d._

   This little book is the first volume of a new Devotional Series,
   printed in clear type, and published at a very low price.

   This volume contains the nine books of the 'Confessions' which are
   suitable for devotional purposes. The name of the Editor is a
   sufficient guarantee of the excellence of the edition.


 THE HOLY SACRIFICE. By F. WESTON, M.A., Curate of St. Matthew's,
 Westminster. _18mo._   _1s._

   A small volume of devotions at the Holy Communion.


 #Naval and Military#


 A HISTORY OF THE ART OF WAR. By C. W. OMAN, M.A., Fellow of All
 Souls', Oxford. _Demy 8vo._   _Illustrated._   _21s._

   Vol. II. MEDIAEVAL WARFARE.

   Mr. Oman is engaged on a History of the Art of War, of which the
   above, though covering the middle period from the fall of the Roman
   Empire to the general use of gunpowder in Western Europe, is the first
   instalment. The first battle dealt with will be Adrianople (378) and
   the last Navarette (1367). There will appear later a volume dealing
   with the Art of War among the Ancients, and another covering the 15th,
   16th, and 17th centuries.

   The book will deal mainly with tactics and strategy, fortifications
   and siegecraft, but subsidiary chapters will give some account of the
   development of arms and armour, and of the various forms of military
   organization known to the Middle Ages.


 A SHORT HISTORY OF THE ROYAL NAVY, FROM EARLY TIMES TO THE PRESENT
 DAY. By DAVID HANNAY. Illustrated. _2 Vols. Demy 8vo._   _7s. 6d. each._
 Vol. I.

   This book aims at giving an account not only of the fighting we have
   done at sea, but of the growth of the service, of the part the Navy
   has played in the development of the Empire, and of its inner life.


 THE STORY OF THE BRITISH ARMY. By Lieut.-Colonel COOPER KING, of the
 Staff College, Camberley. Illustrated. _Demy 8vo._   _7s. 6d._

   This volume aims at describing the nature of the different armies that
   have been formed in Great Britain, and how from the early and feudal
   levies the present standing army came to be. The changes in tactics,
   uniform, and armament are briefly touched upon, and the campaigns in
   which the army has shared have been so far followed as to explain the
   part played by British regiments in them.


 #General Literature#


 THE OLD ENGLISH HOME. By S. BARING-GOULD. With numerous Plans and
 Illustrations. _Crown 8vo._   _7s. 6d._

   This book, like Mr. Baring-Gould's well-known 'Old Country Life,'
   describes the life and environment of an old English family.


 OXFORD AND ITS COLLEGES. By J. WELLS, M.A., Fellow and Tutor of
 Wadham College. Illustrated by E. H. NEW. _Fcap. 8vo._
 _3s._   _Leather._   _4s._

   This is a guide--chiefly historical--to the Colleges of Oxford. It
   contains numerous illustrations.


 VOCES ACADEMICAE. By C. GRANT ROBERTSON, M.A., Fellow of All Souls',
 Oxford. _With a Frontispiece._   _Fcap. 8vo._   _3s. 6d._

   This is a volume of light satirical dialogues and should be read by
   all who are interested in the life of Oxford.


 A PRIMER OF WORDSWORTH. By LAURIE MAGNUS. _Crown 8vo._   _2s. 6d._

   This volume is uniform with the Primers of Tennyson and Burns, and
   contains a concise biography of the poet, a critical appreciation of
   his work in detail, and a bibliography.


 NEO-MALTHUSIANISM. By R. USSHER, M.A. _Cr. 8vo._   _6s._

   This book deals with a very delicate but most important matter,
   namely, the voluntary limitation of the family, and how such action
   affects morality, the individual, and the nation.


 PRIMAEVAL SCENES. By H. N. HUTCHINSON, B.A., F.G.S., Author of 'Extinct
 Monsters,' 'Creatures of Other Days,' 'Prehistoric Man and Beast,'
 etc. With numerous Illustrations drawn by JOHN HASSALL and FRED. V.
 BURRIDGE. _4to._   _6s._

   A set of twenty drawings, with short text to each, to illustrate the
   humorous aspects of prehistoric times. They are carefully planned by
   the author so as to be scientifically and archaeologically correct and
   at the same time amusing.


 THE WALLYPUG IN LONDON. By G. E. FARROW, Author of 'The Wallypug of
 Why.' With numerous Illustrations. _Crown 8vo._   _3s. 6d._

   An extravaganza for children, written with great charm and vivacity.


 RAILWAY NATIONALIZATION. By CLEMENT EDWARDS. _Social Questions
 Series._  _Crown 8vo._  _2s. 6d._


 #Sport#


 SPORTING AND ATHLETIC RECORDS. By H. MORGAN BROWNE. _Crown 8vo._
 _1s.  paper;_   _2s. cloth._

   This book gives, in a clear and complete form, accurate records of the
   best performances in all important branches of Sport. It is an
   attempt, never yet made, to present all-important sporting records in
   a systematic way.


 THE GOLFING PILGRIM. By HORACE G. HUTCHINSON. _Crown 8vo._   _6s._

   This book, by a famous golfer, contains the following sketches lightly
   and humorously written:--The Prologue--The Pilgrim at the
   Shrine--Mecca out of Season--The Pilgrim at Home--The Pilgrim
   Abroad--The Life of the Links--A Tragedy by the Way--Scraps from the
   Scrip--The Golfer in Art--Early Pilgrims in the West--An Interesting
   Relic.


 #Educational#


 EVAGRIUS. Edited by PROFESSOR LEON PARMENTIER of Liege and M. Bidez of
 Gand. _Demy 8vo._   _7s. 6d._   _Byzantine Texts._


 THE ODES AND EPODES OF HORACE. Translated by A. D. GODLEY, M.A.,
 Fellow of Magdalen College, Oxford. _Crown 8vo. buckram._   _2s._


 ORNAMENTAL DESIGN FOR WOVEN FABRICS. By C. STEPHENSON, of The
 Technical College, Bradford, and F. SUDDARDS, of The Yorkshire
 College, Leeds. With 65 full-page plates, and numerous designs and
 diagrams in the text. _Demy 8vo._   _7s. 6d._

   The aim of this book is to supply, in a systematic and practical form,
   information on the subject of Decorative Design as applied to Woven
   Fabrics, and is primarily intended to meet the requirements of
   students in Textile and Art Schools, or of designers actively engaged
   in the weaving industry. Its wealth of illustration is a marked
   feature of the book.


 ESSENTIALS OF COMMERCIAL EDUCATION. By E. E. WHITFIELD, M.A.
 _Crown 8vo._   _1s. 6d._

   A guide to Commercial Education and Examinations.


 PASSAGES FOR UNSEEN TRANSLATION. By E. C. MARCHANT, M.A., Fellow of
 Peterhouse, Cambridge; and A. M. COOK, M.A., late Scholar of Wadham
 College, Oxford: Assistant Masters at St. Paul's School. _Crown 8vo._
 _3s. 6d._

   This book contains Two Hundred Latin and Two Hundred Greek Passages,
   and has been very carefully compiled to meet the wants of V. and VI.
   Form Boys at Public Schools. It is also well adapted for the use of
   Honour men at the Universities.


 EXERCISES IN LATIN ACCIDENCE. By S. E. WINBOLT, Assistant Master in
 Christ's Hospital. _Crown 8vo._   _1s. 6d._

   An elementary book adapted for Lower Forms to accompany the shorter
   Latin primer.


 NOTES ON GREEK AND LATIN SYNTAX. By G. BUCKLAND GREEN, M.A., Assistant
 Master at the Edinburgh Academy, late Fellow of St. John's College,
 Oxon. _Cr. 8vo._   _3s. 6d._

   Notes and explanations on the chief difficulties of Greek and Latin
   Syntax, with numerous passages for exercise.


 A DIGEST OF DEDUCTIVE LOGIC. By JOHNSON BARKER, B.A. _Crown 8vo._
 _2s. 6d._

   A short introduction to logic for students preparing for examinations.


 TEST CARDS IN EUCLID AND ALGEBRA. By D. S. CALDERWOOD, Headmaster of
 the Normal School, Edinburgh. In a Packet of 40, with Answers. _1s._

   A set of cards for advanced pupils in elementary schools.


 HOW TO MAKE A DRESS. By J. A. E. WOOD. Illustrated. _Crown 8vo._
 _1s. 6d._

   A text-book for students preparing for the City and Guilds
   examination, based on the syllabus. The diagrams are numerous.


 #Fiction#


 LOCHINVAR. By S. R. CROCKETT, Author of 'The Raiders,' etc.
 Illustrated by FRANK RICHARDS. _Crown 8vo._   _6s._


 BYEWAYS. By ROBERT HICHENS, Author of 'Flames,' etc. _Crown 8vo._
 _6s._


 THE MUTABLE MANY. By ROBERT BARR, Author of 'In the Midst of Alarms,'
 'A Woman Intervenes,' etc. _Crown 8vo._   _6s._


 THE LADY'S WALK. By MRS. OLIPHANT. _Crown 8vo._   _6s._

   A new book by this lamented author, somewhat in the style of her
   'Beleagured City.'


 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES. By The Hon. EMILY LAWLESS, Author of
 'Hurrish,' 'Maelcho,' etc. _Crown 8vo._   _6s._


 BLADYS. By S. BARING GOULD, Author of 'The Broom Squire,' etc.
 Illustrated by F. H. TOWNSEND. _Crown 8vo._   _6s._

   A Romance of the last century.


 THE POMP OF THE LAVILETTES. By GILBERT PARKER, Author of 'The Seats of
 the Mighty,' etc. _Crown 8vo._   _3s. 6d._


 A DAUGHTER OF STRIFE. By JANE HELEN FINDLATER, Author of 'The Green
 Graves of Balgowrie.' _Crown 8vo._   _6s._

   A story of 1710.


 OVER THE HILLS. By MARY FINDLATER. _Crown 8vo._   _6s._

   A novel by a sister of J. H. Findlater, the author of 'The Green
   Graves of Balgowrie.'


 A CREEL OF IRISH STORIES. By JANE BARLOW, Author of 'Irish Idylls.'
 _Crown 8vo._   _6s._


 THE CLASH OF ARMS. By J. BLOUNDELLE BURTON, Author of 'In the Day of
 Adversity.' _Crown 8vo._  _6s._


 A PASSIONATE PILGRIM. By PERCY WHITE, Author of 'Mr. Bailey-Martin.'
 _Crown 8vo._  _6s._


 SECRETARY TO BAYNE, M.P. By W. PETT RIDGE. _Crown 8vo._   _6s._


 THE BUILDERS. By J. S. FLETCHER, Author of 'When Charles I. was King.'
 _Crown 8vo._   _6s._


 JOSIAH'S WIFE. By NORMA LORIMER. _Crown 8vo._   _6s._


 BY STROKE OF SWORD. By ANDREW BALFOUR. Illustrated by W. CUBITT COOKE.
 _Crown 8vo._   _6s._

   A romance of the time of Elizabeth.


 THE SINGER OF MARLY. By I. HOOPER. Illustrated by W. CUBITT COOKE.
 _Crown 8vo._   _6s._

   A romance of adventure.


 KIRKHAM'S FIND. By MARY GAUNT, Author of 'The Moving Finger.'
 _Crown 8vo._   _6s._


 THE FALL OF THE SPARROW. By M. C. BALFOUR. _Crown 8vo._   _6s._


 SCOTTISH BORDER LIFE. By JAMES C. DIBDIN. _Crown 8vo._   _3s. 6d._




 A LIST OF
 MESSRS. METHUEN'S
 PUBLICATIONS


 #Poetry#


 RUDYARD KIPLING'S NEW POEMS

 #Rudyard Kipling.# THE SEVEN SEAS. By RUDYARD KIPLING. _Third
 Edition._  _Crown 8vo._  _Buckram, gilt top._  _6s._

   'The new poems of Mr. Rudyard Kipling have all the spirit and swing
   of their predecessors. Patriotism is the solid concrete foundation
   on which Mr. Kipling has built the whole of his work.'--_Times._

   'Full of passionate patriotism and the Imperial spirit.'--_Yorkshire
   Post._

   'The Empire has found a singer; it is no depreciation of the songs to
   say that statesmen may have, one way or other, to take account of
   them.'--_Manchester Guardian._

   'Animated through and through with indubitable genius.'--_Daily
   Telegraph._

   'Packed with inspiration, with humour, with pathos.'--_Daily
   Chronicle._

   'All the pride of empire, all the intoxication of power, all the
   ardour, the energy, the masterful strength and the wonderful endurance
   and death-scorning pluck which are the very bone and fibre and marrow
   of the British character are here.'--_Daily Mail._


 #Rudyard Kipling.# BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS; And Other Verses. By RUDYARD
 KIPLING. _Twelfth Edition._  _Crown 8vo._  _6s._

   'Mr. Kipling's verse is strong, vivid, full of character....
   Unmistakable genius rings in every line.'--_Times._

   'The ballads teem with imagination, they palpitate with emotion. We
   read them with laughter and tears; the metres throb in our pulses, the
   cunningly ordered words tingle with life; and if this be not poetry,
   what is?'--_Pall Mall Gazette._


 #"Q."# POEMS AND BALLADS. By "Q.," Author of 'Green Bays,' etc.
 _Crown 8vo._  _Buckram._  _3s. 6d._

   'This work has just the faint, ineffable touch and glow that make
   poetry. 'Q.' has the true romantic spirit.'--_Speaker._


 #"Q."# GREEN BAYS: Verses and Parodies. By "Q.," Author of 'Dead Man's
 Rock,' etc. _Second Edition._  _Crown 8vo._  _3s. 6d._

   'The verses display a rare and versatile gift of parody, great command
   of metre, and a very pretty turn of humour.'--_Times._


 #E. Mackay.# A SONG OF THE SEA. By ERIC MACKAY, Author of 'The Love
 Letters of a Violinist.' _Second Edition._   _Fcap. 8vo._   _5s._

   'Everywhere Mr. Mackay displays himself the master of a style marked
   by all the characteristics of the best rhetoric. He has a keen sense
   of rhythm and of general balance; his verse is excellently
   sonorous.'--_Globe._


 #Ibsen.# BRAND. A Drama by HENRIK IBSEN. Translated by William Wilson.
 _Second Edition._  _Crown 8vo._  _3s. 6d._

   'The greatest world-poem of the nineteenth century next to "Faust." It
   is in the same set with "Agamemnon," with "Lear," with the literature
   that we now instinctively regard as high and holy.'--_Daily
   Chronicle._


 #"A. G."# VERSES TO ORDER. By "A. G." _Cr. 8vo._  _2s. 6d. net._

   A small volume of verse by a writer whose initials are well known to
   Oxford men.

   'A capital specimen of light academic poetry. These verses are very
   bright and engaging, easy and sufficiently witty.'--_St. James's
   Gazette._


 #Belles Lettres, Anthologies, etc.#


 #R. L. Stevenson.# VAILIMA LETTERS. By ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON. With an
 Etched Portrait by WILLIAM STRANG, and other Illustrations. _Second
 Edition._  _Crown 8vo._  _Buckram._  _7s. 6d._

   'Few publications have in our time been more eagerly awaited than
   these "Vailima Letters," giving the first fruits of the correspondence
   of Robert Louis Stevenson. But, high as the tide of expectation has
   run, no reader can possibly be disappointed in the result.'--_St.
   James's Gazette._


 #Henley and Whibley.# A BOOK OF ENGLISH PROSE. Collected by W. E.
 HENLEY and CHARLES WHIBLEY. _Crown 8vo._  _6s._

   'A unique volume of extracts--an art gallery of early
   prose.'--_Birmingham Post._

   'An admirable companion to Mr. Henley's "Lyra Heroica."'--_Saturday
   Review._

   'Quite delightful. A greater treat for those not well acquainted with
   pre-Restoration prose could not be imagined.'--_Athenaeum._


 #H. C. Beeching.# LYRA SACRA: An Anthology of Sacred Verse. Edited by
 H. C. BEECHING, M.A. _Crown 8vo._  _Buckram._  _6s._

   'A charming selection, which maintains a lofty standard of
   excellence.'--_Times._


 #"Q."# THE GOLDEN POMP: A Procession of English Lyrics from Surrey to
 Shirley, arranged by A. T. QUILLER COUCH. _Crown 8vo._  _Buckram._
 _6s._

   'A delightful volume: a really golden "Pomp."'--_Spectator._


 #W. B. Yeats.# AN ANTHOLOGY OF IRISH VERSE. Edited by W. B. YEATS.
 _Crown 8vo._  _3s. 6d._

   'An attractive and catholic selection.'--Times.


 #G. W. Steevens.# MONOLOGUES OF THE DEAD. By G. W. STEEVENS. _Foolscap
 8vo._  _3s. 6d._

   A series of Soliloquies in which famous men of antiquity--Julius
   Caesar, Nero, Alcibiades, etc., attempt to express themselves in the
   modes of thought and language of to-day.

   The effect is sometimes splendid, sometimes bizarre, but always
   amazingly clever.--_Pall Mall Gazette._


 #Victor Hugo.# THE LETTERS OF VICTOR HUGO. Translated from the French
 by F. CLARKE, M.A. _In Two Volumes._  _Demy 8vo._  _10s. 6d. each._
 _Vol. I._ 1815-35.

   This is the first volume of one of the most interesting and important
   collection of letters ever published in France. The correspondence
   dates from Victor Hugo's boyhood to his death, and none of the letters
   have been published before. The arrangement is chiefly chronological,
   but where there is an interesting set of letters to one person these
   are arranged together. The first volume contains, among others, (1)
   Letters to his father; (2) to his young wife; (3) to his confessor,
   Lamennais; (4) a very important set of about fifty letters to
   Sainte-Beauve; (5) letters about his early books and plays.

   'A charming and vivid picture of a man whose egotism never marred his
   natural kindness, and whose vanity did not impair his
   greatness.'--_Standard._


 #C. H. Pearson.# ESSAYS AND CRITICAL REVIEWS. By C. H. PEARSON, M.A.,
 Author of 'National Life and Character.' Edited, with a Biographical
 Sketch, by H. A. STRONG, M.A., LL.D. With a Portrait. _Demy 8vo._
 _10s. 6d._

   'Remarkable for careful handling, breadth of view, and
   knowledge.'--_Scotsman._

   'Charming essays.'--_Spectator._


 #W. M. Dixon.# A PRIMER OF TENNYSON. By W. M. DIXON, M.A., Professor
 of English Literature at Mason College. _Crown 8vo._  _2s. 6d._

   'Much sound and well-expressed criticism and acute literary judgments.
   The bibliography is a boon.'--_Speaker._


 #W. A. Craigie.# A PRIMER OF BURNS. By W. A. CRAIGIE. _Crown 8vo._
 _2s. 6d._

   This book is planned on a method similar to the 'Primer of Tennyson.'
   It has also a glossary.

   'A valuable addition to the literature of the poet.'--_Times._

   'An excellent short account.'--_Pall Mall Gazette._

   'An admirable introduction.'--_Globe._


 #Sterne.# THE LIFE AND OPINIONS OF TRISTRAM SHANDY. By LAWRENCE
 STERNE. With an Introduction by CHARLES WHIBLEY, and a Portrait.
 _2 vols._  _7s._

   'Very dainty volumes are these; the paper, type, and light-green
   binding are all very agreeable to the eye. _Simplex munditiis_ is the
   phrase that might be applied to them.'--_Globe._


 #Congreve.# THE COMEDIES OF WILLIAM CONGREVE. With an Introduction by
 G. S. STREET, and a Portrait. _2 vols._  _7s._

   'The volumes are strongly bound in green buckram, are of a convenient
   size, and pleasant to look upon, so that whether on the shelf, or on
   the table, or in the hand the possessor is thoroughly content with
   them.'--_Guardian._


 #Morier.# THE ADVENTURES OF HAJJI BABA OF ISPAHAN. By JAMES MORIER.
 With an Introduction by E. G. BROWNE, M.A., and a Portrait. _2 vols._
 _7s._


 #Walton.# THE LIVES OF DONNE, WOTTON, HOOKER, HERBERT, AND SANDERSON.
 By IZAAK WALTON. With an Introduction by VERNON BLACKBURN, and a
 Portrait. _3s. 6d._


 #Johnson.# THE LIVES OF THE ENGLISH POETS. By SAMUEL JOHNSON, LL.D.
 With an Introduction by J. H. MILLAR, and a Portrait. _3 vols._
 _10s. 6d._


 #Burns.# THE POEMS OF ROBERT BURNS. Edited by ANDREW LANG and W. A.
 CRAIGIE. With Portrait. _Demy 8vo, gilt top._ _6s._

   This edition contains a carefully collated Text, numerous Notes,
   critical and textual, a critical and biographical Introduction, and a
   Glossary.

   'Among the editions in one volume, Mr. Andrew Lang's will take the
   place of authority.'--_Times._


 #F. Langbridge.# BALLADS OF THE BRAVE: Poems of Chivalry, Enterprise,
 Courage, and Constancy. Edited, with Notes, by Rev. F. LANGBRIDGE.
 _Crown 8vo._  _Buckram._  _3s. 6d._  _School Edition._  _2s. 6d._

   'A very happy conception happily carried out. These "Ballads of the
   Brave" are intended to suit the real tastes of boys, and will suit the
   taste of the great majority.'--_Spectator._

   'The book is full of splendid things.'--_World._


 #Illustrated Books#


 #Jane Barlow.# THE BATTLE OF THE FROGS AND MICE, translated by JANE
 BARLOW, Author of 'Irish Idylls,' and pictured by F. D. BEDFORD.
 _Small 4to._  _6s. net._


 #S. Baring Gould.# A BOOK OF FAIRY TALES retold by S. BARING GOULD.
 With numerous illustrations and initial letters by ARTHUR J. GASKIN.
 _Second Edition._  _Crown 8vo._  _Buckram._ _6s._

   'Mr. Baring Gould is deserving of gratitude, in re-writing in honest,
   simple style the old stories that delighted the childhood of "our
   fathers and grandfathers." As to the form of the book, and the
   printing, which is by Messrs. Constable, it were difficult to commend
   overmuch.'--_Saturday Review._


 #S. Baring Gould.# OLD ENGLISH FAIRY TALES. Collected and edited by S.
 BARING GOULD. With Numerous Illustrations by F. D. BEDFORD. _Second
 Edition._  _Crown 8vo._  _Buckram._  _6s._

   'A charming volume, which children will be sure to appreciate. The
   stories have been selected with great ingenuity from various old
   ballads and folk-tales, and, having been somewhat altered and
   readjusted, now stand forth, clothed in Mr. Baring Gould's delightful
   English, to enchant youthful readers.'--_Guardian._


 #S. Baring Gould.# A BOOK OF NURSERY SONGS AND RHYMES. Edited by S.
 BARING GOULD, and Illustrated by the Birmingham Art School. _Buckram,
 gilt top._  _Crown 8vo._  _6s._

   'The volume is very complete in its way, as it contains nursery songs
   to the number of 77, game-rhymes, and jingles. To the student we
   commend the sensible introduction, and the explanatory notes. The
   volume is superbly printed on soft, thick paper, which it is a
   pleasure to touch; and the borders and pictures are among the very
   best specimens we have seen of the Gaskin school.'--_Birmingham
   Gazette._


 #H. C. Beeching.# A BOOK OF CHRISTMAS VERSE. Edited by H. C. BEECHING,
 M.A., and Illustrated by WALTER CRANE. _Crown 8vo, gilt top._  _5s._

   A collection of the best verse inspired by the birth of Christ from
   the Middle Ages to the present day. A distinction of the book is the
   large number of poems it contains by modern authors, a few of which
   are here printed for the first time.

   'An anthology which, from its unity of aim and high poetic excellence,
   has a better right to exist than most of its fellows.'--_Guardian._


 #History#


 #Gibbon.# THE DECLINE AND FALL OF THE ROMAN EMPIRE. By EDWARD GIBBON.
 A New Edition, Edited with Notes, Appendices, and Maps, by J. B. BURY,
 M.A., Fellow of Trinity College, Dublin. _In Seven Volumes._  _Demy 8vo._
 _Gilt top._  _8s. 6d. each._  _Also crown 8vo._  _6s. each._
 _Vols. I., II., and III._

   'The time has certainly arrived for a new edition of Gibbon's great
   work.... Professor Bury is the right man to undertake this task. His
   learning is amazing, both in extent and accuracy. The book is issued
   in a handy form, and at a moderate price, and it is admirably
   printed.'--_Times._

   'The edition is edited as a classic should be edited, removing
   nothing, yet indicating the value of the text, and bringing it up to
   date. It promises to be of the utmost value, and will be a welcome
   addition to many libraries.'--_Scotsman._

   'This edition, so far as one may judge from the first instalment, is a
   marvel of erudition and critical skill, and it is the very minimum of
   praise to predict that the seven volumes of it will supersede Dean
   Milman's as the standard edition of our great historical
   classic.'--_Glasgow Herald._

   'The beau-ideal Gibbon has arrived at last.'--_Sketch._

   'At last there is an adequate modern edition of Gibbon.... The best
   edition the nineteenth century could produce.'--_Manchester Guardian._


 #Flinders Petrie.# A HISTORY OF EGYPT, FROM THE EARLIEST TIMES TO THE
 PRESENT DAY. Edited by W. M. FLINDERS PETRIE, D.C.L., LL.D., Professor
 of Egyptology at University College. _Fully Illustrated._  _In Six
 Volumes._  _Crown 8vo._  _6s. each._

   Vol. I. PREHISTORIC TIMES TO XVI. DYNASTY. W. M. F. Petrie. _Third
   Edition._

   Vol. II. THE XVIITH AND XVIIITH DYNASTIES. W. M. F. Petrie. _Second
   Edition._

   'A history written in the spirit of scientific precision so worthily
   represented by Dr. Petrie and his school cannot but promote sound and
   accurate study, and supply a vacant place in the English literature of
   Egyptology.'--_Times._


 #Flinders Petrie.# EGYPTIAN TALES. Edited by W. M. FLINDERS PETRIE.
 Illustrated by TRISTRAM ELLIS. _In Two Volumes._  _Crown 8vo._
 _3s. 6d. each._

   'A valuable addition to the literature of comparative folk-lore. The
   drawings are really illustrations in the literal sense of the
   word.'--_Globe._

   'It has a scientific value to the student of history and
   archaeology.'--_Scotsman._

   'Invaluable as a picture of life in Palestine and Egypt.'--_Daily
   News._


 #Flinders Petrie.# EGYPTIAN DECORATIVE ART. By W. M. FLINDERS PETRIE,
 D.C.L. With 120 Illustrations. _Crown 8vo._  _3s. 6d._

   'Professor Flinders Petrie is not only a profound Egyptologist, but an
   accomplished student of comparative archaeology. In these lectures,
   delivered at the Royal Institution, he displays both qualifications
   with rare skill in elucidating the development of decorative art in
   Egypt, and in tracing its influence on the art of other
   countries.'--_Times._


 #S. Baring Gould.# THE TRAGEDY OF THE CAESARS. The Emperors of the
 Julian and Claudian Lines. With numerous Illustrations from Busts,
 Gems, Cameos, etc. By S. BARING GOULD, Author of 'Mehalah,' etc.
 _Fourth Edition._  _Royal 8vo._  _15s._

   'A most splendid and fascinating book on a subject of undying
   interest. The great feature of the book is the use the author has made
   of the existing portraits of the Caesars, and the admirable critical
   subtlety he has exhibited in dealing with this line of research. It is
   brilliantly written, and the illustrations are supplied on a scale of
   profuse magnificence.'--_Daily Chronicle._

   'The volumes will in no sense disappoint the general reader. Indeed,
   in their way, there is nothing in any sense so good in English.... Mr.
   Baring Gould has presented his narrative in such a way as not to make
   one dull page.'--_Athenaeum._


 #H. de B. Gibbons.# INDUSTRY IN ENGLAND: HISTORICAL OUTLINES. By H. DE
 B. GIBBINS, M.A., D.Litt. With 5 Maps. _Second Edition._  _Demy 8vo._
 _10s. 6d._

   This book is written with the view of affording a clear view of the
   main facts of English Social and Industrial History placed in due
   perspective. Beginning with prehistoric times, it passes in review the
   growth and advance of industry up to the nineteenth century, showing
   its gradual development and progress. The book is illustrated by Maps,
   Diagrams, and Tables.


 #A. Clark.# THE COLLEGES OF OXFORD: Their History and their
 Traditions. By Members of the University. Edited by A. CLARK, M.A.,
 Fellow and Tutor of Lincoln College. _8vo._  _12s. 6d._

   'A work which will certainly be appealed to for many years as the
   standard book on the Colleges of Oxford.'--_Athenaeum._


 #Perrens.# THE HISTORY OF FLORENCE FROM 1434 TO 1492. By F. T.
 PERRENS. Translated by HANNAH LYNCH. _8vo._  _12s. 6d._

   A history of Florence under the domination of Cosimo, Piero, and
   Lorenzo de Medicis.

   'This is a standard book by an honest and intelligent historian, who
   has deserved well of all who are interested in Italian
   history.'--_Manchester Guardian._


 #J. Wells.# A SHORT HISTORY OF ROME. By $1, Fellow and Tutor of Wadham
 Coll., Oxford. With 4 Maps. _Crown 8vo._  _3s. 6d._

   This book is intended for the Middle and Upper Forms of Public Schools
   and for Pass Students at the Universities. It contains copious Tables,
   etc.

   'An original work written on an original plan, and with uncommon
   freshness and vigour.'--_Speaker._


 #E. L. S. Horsburgh.# THE CAMPAIGN OF WATERLOO. By E. L. S. HORSBURGH,
 B.A. _With Plans._  _Crown 8vo._  _5s._

   'A brilliant essay--simple, sound, and thorough.'--_Daily Chronicle._

   'A study, the most concise, the most lucid, the most critical that has
   been produced.'--_Birmingham Mercury._


 #H. B. George.# BATTLES OF ENGLISH HISTORY. By H. B. GEORGE, M.A.,
 Fellow of New College, Oxford. _With numerous Plans._  _Third Edition._
 _Crown 8vo._  _6s._

   'Mr. George has undertaken a very useful task--that of making military
   affairs intelligible and instructive to non-military readers--and has
   executed it with laudable intelligence and industry, and with a large
   measure of success.'--_Times._


 #O. Browning.# A SHORT HISTORY OF MEDIAEVAL ITALY, A.D. 1250-1530. By
 OSCAR BROWNING, Fellow and Tutor of King's College, Cambridge. _Second
 Edition._  _In Two Volumes._  _Crown 8vo._  _5s. each._

   Vol. I. 1250-1409.--Guelphs and Ghibellines. Vol. II. 1409-1530.--The
   Age of the Condottieri.

   'A vivid picture of mediaeval Italy.'--_Standard._

   'Mr. Browning is to be congratulated on the production of a work of
   immense labour and learning.'--_Westminster Gazette._


 #O'Grady.# THE STORY OF IRELAND. By STANDISH O'GRADY, Author of 'Finn
 and his Companions.' _Cr. 8vo._  _2s. 6d._

   'Most delightful, most stimulating. Its racy humour, its original
   imaginings, make it one of the freshest, breeziest
   volumes.'--_Methodist Times._


 #Biography#


 #S. Baring Gould.# THE LIFE OF NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. By S. BARING GOULD.
 With over 450 Illustrations in the Text and 12 Photogravure Plates.
 _Large quarto._  _Gilt top._  _36s._

   'The best biography of Napoleon in our tongue, nor have the French as
   good a biographer of their hero. A book very nearly as good as
   Southey's "Life of Nelson."'--_Manchester Guardian._

   'The main feature of this gorgeous volume is its great wealth of
   beautiful photogravures and finely-executed wood engravings,
   constituting a complete pictorial chronicle of Napoleon I.'s personal
   history from the days of his early childhood at Ajaccio to the date of
   his second interment under the dome of the Invalides in
   Paris.'--_Daily Telegraph._

   'The most elaborate account of Napoleon ever produced by an English
   writer.'--_Daily Chronicle._

   'A brilliant and attractive volume. Never before have so many pictures
   relating to Napoleon been brought within the limits of an English
   book.'--_Globe._

   'Particular notice is due to the vast collection of contemporary
   illustrations.'--_Guardian._

   'Nearly all the illustrations are real contributions to
   history.'--_Westminster Gazette._

   'The illustrations are of supreme interest.'--_Standard._


 #Morris Fuller.# THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF JOHN DAVENANT, D.D.
 (1571-1641), President of Queen's College, Lady Margaret Professor of
 Divinity, Bishop of Salisbury. By MORRIS FULLER, B.D. _Demy 8vo._
 _10s. 6d._

   'A valuable contribution to ecclesiastical history.'--_Birmingham
   Gazette._


 #J. M. Rigg.# ST. ANSELM OF CANTERBURY: A CHAPTER IN THE HISTORY OF
 RELIGION. By J. M. RIGG. _Demy 8vo._  _7s. 6d._

   'Mr. Rigg has told the story of the great Primate's life with
   scholarly ability, and has thereby contributed an interesting chapter
   to the history of the Norman period.'--_Daily Chronicle._


 #F. W. Joyce.# THE LIFE OF SIR FREDERICK GORE OUSELEY. By F. W. JOYCE,
 M.A. With Portraits and Illustrations. _Crown 8vo._  _7s. 6d._

   'This book has been undertaken in quite the right spirit, and written
   with sympathy, insight, and considerable literary skill.'--_Times._


 #W. G. Collingwood.# THE LIFE OF JOHN RUSKIN. By W. G. COLLINGWOOD,
 M.A., Editor of Mr. Ruskin's Poems. With numerous Portraits, and 13
 Drawings by Mr. Ruskin. _Second Edition._  _2 vols._  _8vo._  _32s._

   'No more magnificent volumes have been published for a long
   time.'--_Times._

   'It is long since we had a biography with such delights of substance
   and of form. Such a book is a pleasure for the day, and a joy for
   ever.'--_Daily Chronicle._


 #C. Waldstein.# JOHN RUSKIN: a Study. By CHARLES WALDSTEIN, M.A.,
 Fellow of King's College, Cambridge. With a Photogravure Portrait
 after Professor Herkomer. _Post 8vo._  _5s._

   'A thoughtful, impartial, well-written criticism of Ruskin's teaching,
   intended to separate what the author regards as valuable and permanent
   from what is transient and erroneous in the great master's
   writing.'--_Daily Chronicle._


 #W. H. Hutton.# THE LIFE OF SIR THOMAS MORE. By W. H. HUTTON, M.A.,
 Author of 'William Laud.' _With Portraits._  _Crown 8vo._  _5s._

   'The book lays good claim to high rank among our biographies. It is
   excellently, even lovingly, written.'--_Scotsman._

   'An excellent monograph.'--_Times._


 #Clark Russell.# THE LIFE OF ADMIRAL LORD COLLINGWOOD. By W. CLARK
 RUSSELL, Author of 'The Wreck of the Grosvenor.' With Illustrations by
 F. BRANGWYN. _Third Edition._  _Crown 8vo._  _6s._

   'A book which we should like to see in the hands of every boy in the
   country.'--_St. James's Gazette._

   'A really good book.'--_Saturday Review._


 #Southey.# ENGLISH SEAMEN (Howard, Clifford, Hawkins, Drake,
 Cavendish). By ROBERT SOUTHEY. Edited, with an Introduction, by DAVID
 HANNAY. _Second Edition._  _Crown 8vo._  _6s._

   'Admirable and well-told stories of our naval history.'--_Army and
   Navy Gazette._

   'A brave, inspiriting book.'--_Black and White._


 #Travel, Adventure and Topography#


 #R. S. S. Baden-Powell.# THE DOWNFALL OF PREMPEH. A Diary of Life with
 the Native Levy in Ashanti, 1895. By Colonel BADEN-POWELL. With 21
 Illustrations and a Map. _Demy 8vo._  _10s. 6d._

   'A compact, faithful, most readable record of the campaign.'--_Daily
   News._

   'A bluff and vigorous narrative.'--_Glasgow Herald._


 #R. S. S. Baden-Powell.# THE MATEBELE CAMPAIGN 1896. By Colonel R. S.
 S. BADEN-POWELL. With nearly 100 Illustrations. _Second Edition._
 _Demy 8vo._  _15s._

   'Written in an unaffectedly light and humorous style.'--_The World._

   'A very racy and eminently readable book.'--_St. James's Gazette._

   'As a straightforward account of a great deal of plucky work
   unpretentiously done, this book is well worth reading. The simplicity
   of the narrative is all in its favour, and accords in a peculiarly
   English fashion with the nature of the subject.'--_Times._


 #Captain Hinde.# THE FALL OF THE CONGO ARABS. By SIDNEY L. HINDE. With
 Portraits and Plans. _Demy 8vo._  _12s. 6d._

   'The book is full of good things, and of sustained interest.'--_St.
   James's Gazette._

   'A graphic sketch of one of the most exciting and important episodes
   in the struggle for supremacy in Central Africa between the Arabs and
   their Europeon rivals. Apart from the story of the campaign, Captain
   Hinde's book is mainly remarkable for the fulness with which he
   discusses the question of cannibalism. It is, indeed, the only
   connected narrative--in English, at any rate--which has been published
   of this particular episode in African history.'--_Times._

   'Captain Hinde's book is one of the most interesting and valuable
   contributions yet made to the literature of modern Africa.'--_Daily
   News._


 #W. Crooke.# THE NORTH-WESTERN PROVINCES OF INDIA: THEIR ETHNOLOGY AND
 ADMINISTRATION. By W. CROOKE. With Maps and Illustrations. _Demy 8vo._
 _10s. 6d._

   'A carefully and well-written account of one of the most important
   provinces of the Empire. In seven chapters Mr. Crooke deals
   successively with the land in its physical aspect, the province under
   Hindoo and Mussulman rule, the province under British rule, the
   ethnology and sociology of the province, the religious and social life
   of the people, the land and its settlement, and the native peasant in
   his relation to the land. The illustrations are good and well
   selected, and the map is excellent.'--_Manchester Guardian._


 #W. B. Worsfold.# SOUTH AFRICA: Its History and its Future. By W.
 BASIL WORSFOLD, M.A. _With a Map._  _Second Edition._  _Crown 8vo._
 _6s._

   'An intensely interesting book.'--_Daily Chronicle._

   'A monumental work compressed into a very moderate compass.'--_World._


 #General Literature#


 #S. Baring Gould.# OLD COUNTRY LIFE. By S. BARING GOULD, Author of
 'Mehalah,' etc. With Sixty-seven Illustrations by W. PARKINSON, F. D.
 BEDFORD, and F. MASEY. _Large Crown 8vo._  _10s. 6d._  _Fifth and
 Cheaper Edition._  _6s._

   '"Old Country Life," as healthy wholesome reading, full of breezy life
   and movement, full of quaint stories vigorously told, will not be
   excelled by any book to be published throughout the year. Sound,
   hearty, and English to the core.'--_World._


 #S. Baring Gould.# HISTORIC ODDITIES AND STRANGE EVENTS. By S. BARING
 GOULD. _Third Edition._  _Crown 8vo._  _6s._

   'A collection of exciting and entertaining chapters. The whole volume
   is delightful reading.'--_Times._


 #S. Baring Gould.# FREAKS OF FANATICISM. By S. BARING GOULD. _Third
 Edition._  _Crown 8vo._  _6s._

   'Mr. Baring Gould has a keen eye for colour and effect, and the
   subjects he has chosen give ample scope to his descriptive and
   analytic faculties. A perfectly fascinating book.'--_Scottish Leader._


 #S. Baring Gould.# A GARLAND OF COUNTRY SONG: English Folk Songs with
 their Traditional Melodies. Collected and arranged by S. BARING GOULD
 and H. FLEETWOOD SHEPPARD. _Demy 4to._  _6s._


 #S. Baring Gould.# SONGS OF THE WEST: Traditional Ballads and Songs of
 the West of England, with their Traditional Melodies. Collected by S.
 BARING GOULD, M.A., and H. FLEETWOOD SHEPPARD, M.A. Arranged for Voice
 and Piano. In 4 Parts (containing 25 Songs each), _Parts I., II., III.,_
 _3s. each._  _Part IV.,_  _5s._  _In one Vol.,_  _French morocco,_
 _15s._

   'A rich collection of humour, pathos, grace, and poetic
   fancy.'--_Saturday Review._


 #S. Baring Gould.# YORKSHIRE ODDITIES AND STRANGE EVENTS. _Fourth
 Edition._  _Crown 8vo._  _6s._


 #S. Baring Gould.# STRANGE SURVIVALS AND SUPERSTITIONS. With
 Illustrations. By S. BARING GOULD. _Crown 8vo._  _Second Edition._
 _6s._

   'We have read Mr. Baring Gould's book from beginning to end. It is
   full of quaint and various information, and there is not a dull page
   in it.'--_Notes and Queries._


 #S. Baring Gould.# THE DESERTS OF SOUTHERN FRANCE. By S. BARING GOULD.
 With numerous Illustrations by F. D. BEDFORD, S. HUTTON, etc.
 _2 vols._  _Demy 8vo._  _32s._

   'His two richly-illustrated volumes are full of matter of interest
   to the geologist, the archaeologist, and the student of history and
   manners.'--_Scotsman._


 #G. W. Steevens.# NAVAL POLICY: WITH A DESCRIPTION OF ENGLISH AND
 FOREIGN NAVIES. By G. W. STEEVENS. _Demy 8vo._  _6s._

   This book is a description of the British and other more important
   navies of the world, with a sketch of the lines on which our naval
   policy might possibly be developed. It describes our recent naval
   policy, and shows what our naval force really is. A detailed but
   non-technical account is given of the instruments of modern
   warfare--guns, armour, engines, and the like--with a view to determine
   how far we are abreast of modern invention and modern requirements. An
   ideal policy is then sketched for the building and manning of our
   fleet; and the last chapter is devoted to docks, coaling-stations, and
   especially colonial defence.

   'An extremely able and interesting work.'--_Daily Chronicle._


 #W. E. Gladstone.# THE SPEECHES AND PUBLIC ADDRESSES OF THE RT. HON.
 W. E. GLADSTONE, M.P. Edited by A. W. HUTTON, M.A., and H. J. COHEN,
 M.A. With Portraits. _8vo._  _Vols. IX. and X._ _12s. 6d. each._


 #J. Wells.# OXFORD AND OXFORD LIFE. By Members of the University.
 Edited by J. WELLS, M.A., Fellow and Tutor of Wadham College.
 _Crown 8vo._  _3s. 6d._

   'We congratulate Mr. Wells on the production of a readable and
   intelligent account of Oxford as it is at the present time, written by
   persons who are possessed of a close acquaintance with the system and
   life of the University.'--_Athenaeum._


 #L. Whibley.# GREEK OLIGARCHIES: THEIR ORGANISATION AND CHARACTER. By
 L. WHIBLEY, M.A., Fellow of Pembroke College, Cambridge. _Crown 8vo._
 _6s._

   'An exceedingly useful handbook: a careful and well-arranged study of
   an obscure subject.'--_Times._

   'Mr. Whibley is never tedious or pedantic.'--_Pall Mall Gazette._


 #L. L. Price.# ECONOMIC SCIENCE AND PRACTICE. By L. L. PRICE, M.A.,
 Fellow of Oriel College, Oxford. _Crown 8vo._  _6s._

   'The book is well written, giving evidence of considerable literary
   ability, and clear mental grasp of the subject under
   consideration.'--_Western Morning News._


 #C. F. Andrews.# CHRISTIANITY AND THE LABOUR QUESTION. By C. F.
 ANDREWS, B.A. _Crown 8vo._  _2s. 6d._

   'A bold and scholarly survey.'--_Speaker._


 #J. S. Shedlock.# THE PIANOFORTE SONATA: Its Origin and Development.
 By J. S. SHEDLOCK. _Crown 8vo._  _5s._

   'This work should be in the possession of every musician and amateur,
   for it not only embodies a concise and lucid history of the origin of
   one of the most important forms of musical composition, but, by reason
   of the painstaking research and accuracy of the author's statements,
   it is a very valuable work for reference.'--_Athenaeum._


 #E. M. Bowden.# THE EXAMPLE OF BUDDHA: Being Quotations from Buddhist
 Literature for each Day in the Year. Compiled by E. M. BOWDEN. With
 Preface by Sir EDWIN ARNOLD. _Third Edition._  _16mo._  _2s. 6d._


 #Science#


 #Freudenreich.# DAIRY BACTERIOLOGY. A Short Manual for the Use of
 Students. By Dr. ED. VON FREUDENREICH. Translated from the German by
 J. R. AINSWORTH DAVIS, B.A., F.C.P. _Crown 8vo._  _2s. 6d._


 #Chalmers Mitchell.# OUTLINES OF BIOLOGY. By P. CHALMERS MITCHELL,
 M.A., F.Z.S. _Fully Illustrated._  _Crown 8vo._  _6s._

   A text-book designed to cover the new Schedule issued by the Royal
   College of Physicians and Surgeons.


 #G. Massee.# A MONOGRAPH OF THE MYXOGASTRES. By GEORGE MASSEE. With 12
  Plates. _Royal 8vo._  _18s. net._

   'A work much in advance of any book in the language treating of this
   group of organisms. It is indispensable to every student of the
   Myxogastres. The  plates deserve high praise for their
   accuracy and execution.'--_Nature._


 #Philosophy#


 #L. T. Hobhouse.# THE THEORY OF KNOWLEDGE. By L. T. HOBHOUSE, Fellow
 and Tutor of Corpus College, Oxford. _Demy 8vo._  _21s._

   'The most important contribution to English philosophy since the
   publication of Mr. Bradley's "Appearance and Reality." Full of
   brilliant criticism and of positive theories which are models of
   lucid statement.'--_Glasgow Herald._

   'An elaborate and often brilliantly written volume. The treatment
   is one of great freshness, and the illustrations are particularly
   numerous and apt.'--_Times._


 #W. H. Fairbrother.# THE PHILOSOPHY OF T. H. GREEN. By W. H.
 FAIRBROTHER, M.A., Lecturer at Lincoln College, Oxford. _Crown 8vo._
 _3s. 6d._

   This volume is expository, not critical, and is intended for senior
   students at the Universities and others, as a statement of Green's
   teaching, and an introduction to the study of Idealist Philosophy.

   'In every way an admirable book. As an introduction to the writings of
   perhaps the most remarkable speculative thinker whom England has
   produced in the present century, nothing could be better.'--_Glasgow
   Herald._


 #F. W. Bussell.# THE SCHOOL OF PLATO: its Origin and its Revival under
 the Roman Empire. By F. W. BUSSELL, M.A., Fellow and Tutor of
 Brasenose College, Oxford. _Demy 8vo._  _10s. 6d._

   'A highly valuable contribution to the history of ancient
   thought.'--_Glasgow Herald._

   'A clever and stimulating book, provocative of thought and deserving
   careful reading.'--_Manchester Guardian._


 #F. S. Granger.# THE WORSHIP OF THE ROMANS. By F. S. GRANGER, M.A.,
 Litt.D., Professor of Philosophy at University College, Nottingham.
 _Crown 8vo._ _6s._

   'A scholarly analysis of the religious ceremonies, beliefs, and
   superstitions of ancient Rome, conducted in the new instructive light
   of comparative anthropology.'--_Times._


 #Theology#


 #E. C. S. Gibson.# THE XXXIX. ARTICLES OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND.
 Edited with an Introduction by E. C. S. GIBSON, D.D., Vicar of Leeds,
 late Principal of Wells Theological College. _In Two Volumes._
 _Demy 8vo._  _15s._

   'The tone maintained throughout is not that of the partial advocate,
   but the faithful exponent'--_Scotsman._

   'There are ample proofs of clearness of expression, sobriety of
   judgment, and breadth of view.... The book will be welcome to all
   students of the subject, and its sound, definite, and loyal theology
   ought to be of great service.'--_National Observer._

   'So far from repelling the general reader, its orderly arrangement,
   lucid treatment, and felicity of diction invite and encourage his
   attention.'--_Yorkshire Post._


 #R. L. Ottley.# THE DOCTRINE OF THE INCARNATION. By R. L. OTTLEY,
 M.A., late fellow of Magdalen College, Oxon., Principal of Pusey
 House. _In Two Volumes._  _Demy 8vo._  _15s._

   'Learned and reverent: lucid and well arranged.'--_Record._

   'Accurate, well ordered, and judicious.'--_National Observer._

   'A clear and remarkably full account of the main currents of
   speculation. Scholarly precision ... genuine tolerance ... intense
   interest in his subject--are Mr. Ottley's merits.'--_Guardian._


 #F. B. Jevons.# AN INTRODUCTION TO THE HISTORY OF RELIGION. By F. B.
 JEVONS, M.A., Litt.D., Principal of Bishop Hatfield's Hall.
 _Demy 8vo._  _10s. 6d._

   Mr. F. B. Jevons' 'Introduction to the History of Religion' treats of
   early religion, from the point of view of Anthropology and Folk-lore;
   and is the first attempt that has been made in any language to weave
   together the results of recent investigations into such topics as
   Sympathetic Magic, Taboo, Totemism, Fetishism, etc., so as to present
   a systematic account of the growth of primitive religion and the
   development of early religious institutions.

   'Dr. Jevons has written a notable work, and we can strongly recommend
   it to the serious attention of theologians, anthropologists, and
   classical scholars.'--_Manchester Guardian._

   'The merit of this book lies in the penetration, the singular
   acuteness and force of the author's judgment. He is at once critical
   and luminous, at once just and suggestive. It is but rarely that one
   meets with a book so comprehensive and so thorough as this, and it is
   more than an ordinary pleasure for the reviewer to welcome and
   recommend it. Dr. Jevons is something more than an historian of
   primitive belief--he is a philosophic thinker, who sees his subject
   clearly and sees it whole, whose mastery of detail is no less complete
   than his view of the broader aspects and issues of his subject is
   convincing.'--_Birmingham Post._


 #S. R. Driver.# SERMONS ON SUBJECTS CONNECTED WITH THE OLD TESTAMENT.
 By S. R. DRIVER, D.D., Canon of Christ Church, Regius Professor of
 Hebrew in the University of Oxford. _Crown 8vo._  _6s._

   'A welcome companion to the author's famous 'Introduction.' No man can
   read these discourses without feeling that Dr. Driver is fully alive
   to the deeper teaching of the Old Testament.'--_Guardian._


 #T. K. Cheyne.# FOUNDERS OF OLD TESTAMENT CRITICISM: Biographical,
 Descriptive, and Critical Studies. By T. K. CHEYNE, D.D., Oriel
 Professor of the Interpretation of Holy Scripture at Oxford. _Large
 crown 8vo._  _7s. 6d._

   This book is a historical sketch of O. T. Criticism in the form of
   biographical studies from the days of Eichhorn to those of Driver and
   Robertson Smith.

   'A very learned and instructive work.'--_Times._


 #C. H. Prior.# CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. Edited by C. H. PRIOR, M.A., Fellow
 and Tutor of Pembroke College. _Crown 8vo._  _6s._

   A volume of sermons preached before the University of Cambridge by
   various preachers, including the Archbishop of Canterbury and Bishop
   Westcott.

   'A representative collection. Bishop Westcott's is a noble
   sermon.'--_Guardian._


 #E. B. Layard.# RELIGION IN BOYHOOD. Notes on the Religious Training
 of Boys. With a Preface by J. R. ILLINGWORTH. By E. B. LAYARD, M.A.
 _18mo._  _1s._


 #W. Yorke Faussett.# THE _DE CATECHIZANDIS RUDIBUS_ OF ST. AUGUSTINE.
 Edited, with Introduction, Notes, etc., by W. YORKE FAUSSETT, M.A.,
 late Scholar of Balliol Coll. _Crown 8vo._  _3s. 6d._

   An edition of a Treatise on the Essentials of Christian Doctrine, and
   the best methods of impressing them on candidates for baptism.

   'Ably and judiciously edited on the same principle as the ordinary
   Greek and Latin texts.'--_Glasgow Herald._


 _Devotional Books_

 _With Full-page Illustrations._  _Fcap. 8vo._  _Buckram._  _3s. 6d._
 _Padded morocco, 5s._


 THE IMITATION OF CHRIST. By THOMAS A KEMPIS. With an Introduction by
 DEAN FARRAR. Illustrated by C. M. GERE, and printed in black and red.
 _Second Edition._

   'Amongst all the innumerable English editions of the "Imitation,"
   there can have been few which were prettier than this one, printed in
   strong and handsome type, with all the glory of red
   initials.'--_Glasgow Herald._


 THE CHRISTIAN YEAR. By JOHN KEBLE. With an Introduction and Notes by
 W. LOCK, D.D., Warden of Keble College, Ireland, Professor at Oxford.
 Illustrated by R. ANNING BELL.

   'The present edition is annotated with all the care and insight to be
   expected from Mr. Lock. The progress and circumstances of its
   composition are detailed in the Introduction. There is an interesting
   Appendix on the MSS. of the "Christian Year," and another giving the
   order in which the poems were written. A "Short Analysis of the
   Thought" is prefixed to each, and any difficulty in the text is
   explained in a note.'--_Guardian._

   'The most acceptable edition of this ever-popular work.'--_Globe._


 #Leaders of Religion#


 Edited by H. C. BEECHING, M.A. _With Portraits, crown 8vo._

 A series of short biographies of the most prominent leaders of
 religious life and thought of all ages and countries. 3/6

 The following are ready--

 CARDINAL NEWMAN. By R. H. HUTTON.
 JOHN WESLEY. By J. H. OVERTON, M.A.
 BISHOP WILBERFORCE. By G. W. DANIEL, M.A.
 CARDINAL MANNING. By A. W. HUTTON, M.A.
 CHARLES SIMEON. By H. C. G. MOULE, M.A.
 JOHN KEBLE. By WALTER LOCK, D.D.
 THOMAS CHALMERS. By Mrs. OLIPHANT.
 LANCELOT ANDREWES. By R. L. OTTLEY, M.A.
 AUGUSTINE OF CANTERBURY. By E. L. CUTTS, D.D.
 WILLIAM LAUD. By W. H. HUTTON, B.D.
 JOHN KNOX. By F. M'CUNN.
 JOHN HOWE. By R. F. HORTON, D.D.
 BISHOP KEN. By F. A. CLARKE, M.A.
 GEORGE FOX, THE QUAKER. By T. HODGKIN, D.C.L.

 Other volumes will be announced in due course.


 #Fiction#

 SIX SHILLING NOVELS
 Marie Corelli's Novels
 _Crown 8vo._  _6s. each._

 A ROMANCE OF TWO WORLDS. _Sixteenth Edition._
 VENDETTA. _Thirteenth Edition._
 THELMA. _Seventeenth Edition._
 ARDATH. _Eleventh Edition._
 THE SOUL OF LILITH. _Ninth Edition._
 WORMWOOD. _Eighth Edition._
 BARABBAS: A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY. _Thirty-first Edition._

   'The tender reverence of the treatment and the imaginative beauty of
   the writing have reconciled us to the daring of the conception, and
   the conviction is forced on us that even so exalted a subject cannot
   be made too familiar to us, provided it be presented in the true
   spirit of Christian faith. The amplifications of the Scripture
   narrative are often conceived with high poetic insight, and this
   "Dream of the World's Tragedy" is, despite some trifling
   incongruities, a lofty and not inadequate paraphrase of the supreme
   climax of the inspired narrative.'--_Dublin Review._


 THE SORROWS OF SATAN. _Thirty-sixth Edition._

   'A very powerful piece of work.... The conception is magnificent, and
   is likely to win an abiding place within the memory of man.... The
   author has immense command of language, and a limitless audacity....
   This interesting and remarkable romance will live long after much of
   the ephemeral literature of the day is forgotten.... A literary
   phenomenon ... novel, and even sublime.'--W. T. STEAD in the _Review
   of Reviews._


 Anthony Hope's Novels

 _Crown 8vo._  _6s. each._


 THE GOD IN THE CAR. _Seventh Edition._

   'A very remarkable book, deserving of critical analysis impossible
   within our limit; brilliant, but not superficial; well considered, but
   not elaborated; constructed with the proverbial art that conceals, but
   yet allows itself to be enjoyed by readers to whom fine literary
   method is a keen pleasure.'--_The World._


 A CHANGE OF AIR. _Fourth Edition._

   'A graceful, vivacious comedy, true to human nature. The characters
   are traced with a masterly hand.'--_Times._


 A MAN OF MARK. _Fourth Edition._

   'Of all Mr. Hope's books, "A Man of Mark" is the one which best
   compares with "The Prisoner of Zenda."'--_National Observer._


 THE CHRONICLES OF COUNT ANTONIO. _Third Edition._

   'It is a perfectly enchanting story of love and chivalry, and pure
   romance. The outlawed Count is the most constant, desperate, and
   withal modest and tender of lovers, a peerless gentleman, an intrepid
   fighter, a very faithful friend, and a most magnanimous
   foe.'--_Guardian._


 PHROSO. Illustrated by H. R. MILLAR. _Third Edition._

   'The tale is thoroughly fresh, quick with vitality, stirring the
   blood, and humorously, dashingly told.'--_St. James's Gazette._

   'A story of adventure, every page of which is palpitating with action
   and excitement.'--_Speaker._

   'From cover to cover "Phroso" not only engages the attention, but
   carries the reader in little whirls of delight from adventure to
   adventure.'--_Academy._


 S. Baring Gould's Novels

 _Crown 8vo._ _6s. each._

   'To say that a book is by the author of "Mehalah" is to imply that
   it contains a story cast on strong lines, containing dramatic
   possibilities, vivid and sympathetic descriptions of Nature, and a
   wealth of ingenious imagery.'--_Speaker._

   'That whatever Mr. Baring Gould writes is well worth reading, is a
   conclusion that may be very generally accepted. His views of life are
   fresh and vigorous, his language pointed and characteristic, the
   incidents of which he makes use are striking and original, his
   characters are life-like, and though somewhat exceptional people, are
   drawn and  with artistic force. Add to this that his
   descriptions of scenes and scenery are painted with the loving eyes
   and skilled hands of a master of his art, that he is always fresh and
   never dull, and under such conditions it is no wonder that readers
   have gained confidence both in his power of amusing and satisfying
   them, and that year by year his popularity widens.'--_Court Circular._


 ARMINELL: A Social Romance. _Fourth Edition._


 URITH: A Story of Dartmoor. _Fifth Edition._

   'The author is at his best.'--_Times._


 IN THE ROAR OF THE SEA. _Sixth Edition._

   'One of the best imagined and most enthralling stories the author has
   produced.'--_Saturday Review._


 MRS. CURGENVEN OF CURGENVEN. _Fourth Edition._

   'The swing of the narrative is splendid.'--_Sussex Daily News._


 CHEAP JACK ZITA. _Fourth Edition._

   'A powerful drama of human passion.'--_Westminster Gazette._

   'A story worthy the author.'--_National Observer._


 THE QUEEN OF LOVE. _Fourth Edition._

   'You cannot put it down until you have finished it.'--_Punch._

   'Can be heartily recommended to all who care for cleanly, energetic,
   and interesting fiction.'--_Sussex Daily News._


 KITTY ALONE. _Fourth Edition._

   'A strong and original story, teeming with graphic description,
   stirring incident, and, above all, with vivid and enthralling human
   interest.'--_Daily Telegraph._


 NOEMI: A Romance of the Cave-Dwellers. Illustrated by R. CATON
 WOODVILLE. _Third Edition._

   '"Noemi" is as excellent a tale of fighting and adventure as one may
   wish to meet. The narrative also runs clear and sharp as the Loire
   itself.'--_Pall Mall Gazette._

   'Mr. Baring Gould's powerful story is full of the strong lights and
   shadows and vivid colouring to which he has accustomed
   us.'--_Standard._


 THE BROOM-SQUIRE. Illustrated by FRANK DADD. _Fourth Edition._

   'A strain of tenderness is woven through the web of his tragic tale,
   and its atmosphere is sweetened by the nobility and sweetness of the
   heroine's character.'--_Daily News._

   'A story of exceptional interest that seems to us to be better than
   anything he has written of late.'--_Speaker._


 THE PENNYCOMEQUICKS. _Third Edition._


 DARTMOOR IDYLLS.

   'A book to read, and keep and read again; for the genuine fun and
   pathos of it will not early lose their effect.'--_Vanity Fair._


 GUAVAS THE TINNER. Illustrated by FRANK DADD. _Second Edition._

   'Mr. Baring Gould is a wizard who transports us into a region of
   visions, often lurid and disquieting, but always full of interest and
   enchantment.'--_Spectator._

   'In the weirdness of the story, in the faithfulness with which the
   characters are depicted, and in force of style, it closely resembles
   "Mehalah."'--_Daily Telegraph._

   'There is a kind of flavour about this book which alone elevates it
   above the ordinary novel. The story itself has a grandeur in harmony
   with the wild and rugged scenery which is its setting.'--_Athenaeum._


 Gilbert Parker's Novels

 _Crown 8vo._ _6s. each._


 PIERRE AND HIS PEOPLE. _Fourth Edition._

   'Stories happily conceived and finely executed. There is strength and
   genius in Mr. Parker's style.'--_Daily Telegraph._


 MRS. FALCHION. _Fourth Edition._

   'A splendid study of character.'--_Athenaeum._

   'But little behind anything that has been done by any writer of our
   time.'--_Pall Mall Gazette._

   'A very striking and admirable novel.'--_St. James's Gazette._


 THE TRANSLATION OF A SAVAGE.

   'The plot is original and one difficult to work out; but Mr. Parker
   has done it with great skill and delicacy. The reader who is not
   interested in this original, fresh, and well-told tale must be a dull
   person indeed.'--_Daily Chronicle._


 THE TRAIL OF THE SWORD. _Fifth Edition._

   'Everybody with a soul for romance will thoroughly enjoy "The Trail of
   the Sword."'--_St. James's Gazette._

   'A rousing and dramatic tale. A book like this, in which swords flash,
   great surprises are undertaken, and daring deeds done, in which men
   and women live and love in the old straightforward passionate way, is
   a joy inexpressible to the reviewer.'--_Daily Chronicle._


 WHEN VALMOND CAME TO PONTIAC: The Story of a Lost Napoleon. _Fourth
 Edition._

   'Here we find romance--real, breathing, living romance, but it runs
   flush with our own times, level with our own feelings. The character
   of Valmond is drawn unerringly; his career, brief as it is, is placed
   before us as convincingly as history itself. The book must be read, we
   may say re-read, for any one thoroughly to appreciate Mr. Parker's
   delicate touch and innate sympathy with humanity.'--_Pall Mall
   Gazette._

   'The one work of genius which 1895 has as yet produced.'--_New Age._


 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH: The Last Adventures of 'Pretty Pierre.'
 _Second Edition._

   'The present book is full of fine and moving stories of the great
   North, and it will add to Mr. Parker's already high
   reputation.'--_Glasgow Herald._


 THE SEATS OF THE MIGHTY. _Illustrated._ _Eighth Edition._

   'The best thing he has done; one of the best things that any one has
   done lately.'--_St. James's Gazette._

   'Mr. Parker seems to become stronger and easier with every serious
   novel that he attempts.... In "The Seats of the Mighty" he shows the
   matured power which his former novels have led us to expect, and has
   produced a really fine historical novel.... Most sincerely is Mr.
   Parker to be congratulated on the finest novel he has yet
   written.'--_Athenaeum._

   'Mr. Parker's latest book places him in the front rank of living
   novelists. "The Seats of the Mighty" is a great book.'--_Black and
   White._

   'One of the strongest stories of historical interest and adventure
   that we have read for many a day.... A notable and successful
   book.'--_Speaker._


 #Conan Doyle.# ROUND THE RED LAMP. By A. CONAN DOYLE, Author of 'The
 White Company,' 'The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes,' etc. _Fifth
 Edition._  _Crown 8vo._  _6s._

   'The book is, indeed, composed of leaves from life, and is far and
   away the best view that has been vouchsafed us behind the scenes of
   the consulting-room. It is very superior to "The Diary of a late
   Physician."'--_Illustrated London News._


 #Stanley Weyman.# UNDER THE RED ROBE. By STANLEY WEYMAN, Author of 'A
 Gentleman of France.' With Twelve Illustrations by R. Caton Woodville.
 _Twelfth Edition._ _Crown 8vo._  _6s._

   'A book of which we have read every word for the sheer pleasure of
   reading, and which we put down with a pang that we cannot forget it
   all and start again.'--_Westminster Gazette._

   'Every one who reads books at all must read this thrilling romance,
   from the first page of which to the last the breathless reader is
   haled along. An inspiration of "manliness and courage."'--_Daily
   Chronicle._


 #Lucas Malet.# THE WAGES OF SIN. By LUCAS MALET. _Thirteenth Edition._
 _Crown 8vo._  _6s._


 #Lucas Malet.# THE CARISSIMA. By LUCAS MALET, Author of 'The Wages of
 Sin,' etc. _Third Edition._  _Crown 8vo._  _6s._


 #Arthur Morrison.# TALES OF MEAN STREETS. By ARTHUR MORRISON. _Fourth
 Edition._  _Crown 8vo._  _6s._

   'Told with consummate art and extraordinary detail. He tells a plain,
   unvarnished tale, and the very truth of it makes for beauty. In the
   true humanity of the book lies its justification, the permanence of
   its interest, and its indubitable triumph.'--_Athenaeum._

   'A great book. The author's method is amazingly effective, and
   produces a thrilling sense of reality. The writer lays upon us a
   master hand. The book is simply appalling and irresistible in its
   interest. It is humorous also; without humour it would not make the
   mark it is certain to make.'--_World._


 #Arthur Morrison.# A CHILD OF THE JAGO. By ARTHUR MORRISON. _Third
 Edition._  _Crown 8vo._  _6s._

   This, the first long story which Mr. Morrison has written, is like his
   remarkable 'Tales of Mean Streets,' a realistic study of East End
   life.

   'The book is a masterpiece.'--_Pall Mall Gazette._

   'Told with great vigour and powerful simplicity.'--_Athenaeum._


 #Mrs. Clifford.# A FLASH OF SUMMER. By Mrs. W. K. CLIFFORD, Author of
 'Aunt Anne,' etc. _Second Edition._  _Crown 8vo._  _6s._

   'The story is a very sad and a very beautiful one, exquisitely told,
   and enriched with many subtle touches of wise and tender insight. It
   will, undoubtedly, add to its author's reputation--already high--in
   the ranks of novelists.'--_Speaker._


 #Emily Lawless.# HURRISH. By the Honble. EMILY LAWLESS, Author of
 'Maelcho,' etc. _Fifth Edition._  _Crown 8vo._  _6s._

   A reissue of Miss Lawless' most popular novel, uniform with 'Maelcho.'


 #Emily Lawless.# MAELCHO: a Sixteenth Century Romance. By the Honble.
 EMILY LAWLESS. _Second Edition._  _Crown 8vo._  _6s._

   'A really great book.'--_Spectator._

   'There is no keener pleasure in life than the recognition of genius.
   Good work is commoner than it used to be, but the best is as rare as
   ever. All the more gladly, therefore, do we welcome in "Maelcho" a
   piece of work of the first order, which we do not hesitate to describe
   as one of the most remarkable literary achievements of this
   generation. Miss Lawless is possessed of the very essence of
   historical genius.'--_Manchester Guardian._


 #J. H. Findlater.# THE GREEN GRAVES OF BALGOWRIE. By JANE H.
 FINDLATER. _Fourth Edition._  _Crown 8vo._  _6s._

   'A powerful and vivid story.'--_Standard._

   'A beautiful story, sad and strange as truth itself.'--_Vanity Fair._

   'A work of remarkable interest and originality.'--_National Observer._

   'A very charming and pathetic tale.'--_Pall Mall Gazette._

   'A singularly original, clever, and beautiful story.'--_Guardian._

   '"The Green Graves of Balgowrie" reveals to us a new Scotch writer of
   undoubted faculty and reserve force.'--_Spectator._

   'An exquisite idyll, delicate, affecting, and beautiful.'--_Black and
   White._


 #H. G Wells.# THE STOLEN BACILLUS, and other Stories. By H. G. WELLS,
 Author of 'The Time Machine.' _Second Edition._  _Crown 8vo._  _6s._

   'The ordinary reader of fiction may be glad to know that these stories
   are eminently readable from one cover to the other, but they are more
   than that; they are the impressions of a very striking imagination,
   which, it would seem, has a great deal within its reach.'--_Saturday
   Review._


 #H. G. WELLS.# THE PLATTNER STORY AND OTHERS. By H. G. WELLS. _Second
 Edition._  _Crown 8vo._  _6s._

   'Weird and mysterious, they seem to hold the reader as by a magic
   spell.'--_Scotsman._

   'Such is the fascination of this writer's skill that you
   unhesitatingly prophesy that none of the many readers, however his
   flesh do creep, will relinquish the volume ere he has read from first
   word to last.'--_Black and White._

   'No volume has appeared for a long time so likely to give equal
   pleasure to the simplest reader and to the most fastidious
   critic.'--_Academy._

   'Mr. Wells is a magician skilled in wielding that most potent of all
   spells--the fear of the unknown.'--_Daily Telegraph._


 #E. F. Benson.# DODO: A DETAIL OF THE DAY. By E. F. BENSON. _Sixteenth
 Edition._  _Crown 8vo._  _6s._

   'A delightfully witty sketch of society.'--_Spectator._

   'A perpetual feast of epigram and paradox.'--_Speaker._


 #E. F. Benson.# THE RUBICON. By E. F. BENSON, Author of 'Dodo.' _Fifth
 Edition._  _Crown 8vo._  _6s._

   'An exceptional achievement; a notable advance on his previous
   work.'--_National Observer._


 #Mrs. Oliphant.# SIR ROBERT'S FORTUNE. By MRS. OLIPHANT. _Crown 8vo._
 _6s._

   'Full of her own peculiar charm of style and simple, subtle
   character-painting comes her new gift, the delightful story before us.
   The scene mostly lies in the moors, and at the touch of the authoress
   a Scotch moor becomes a living thing, strong, tender, beautiful, and
   changeful.'--_Pall Mall Gazette._


 #Mrs. Oliphant.# THE TWO MARYS. By MRS. OLIPHANT. _Second Edition._
 _Crown 8vo._  _6s._


 #W. E. Norris.# MATTHEW AUSTIN. By W. E. NORRIS, Author of
 'Mademoiselle de Mersac,' etc. _Fourth Edition._  _Crown 8vo._  _6s._

   '"Matthew Austin" may safely be pronounced one of the most
   intellectually satisfactory and morally bracing novels of the current
   year.'--_Daily Telegraph._


 #W. E. Norris.# HIS GRACE. By W. E. NORRIS. _Third Edition._  _Crown
 8vo._  _6s._

   'Mr. Norris has drawn a really fine character in the Duke of
   Hurstbourne, at once unconventional and very true to the
   conventionalities of life.'--_Athenaeum._


 #W. E. Norris.# THE DESPOTIC LADY AND OTHERS. By W. E. NORRIS. _Crown
 8vo._  _6s._

   'A budget of good fiction of which no one will tire.'--_Scotsman._


 #W. E. Norris.# CLARISSA FURIOSA. By W. E. NORRIS, Author of 'The
 Rogue,' etc. _Crown 8vo._  _6s._

   'One of Mr. Norris's very best novels. As a story it is admirable, as
   a _jeu d'esprit_ it is capital, as a lay sermon studded with gems of
   wit and wisdom it is a model which will not, we imagine, find an
   efficient imitator.'--_The World._

   'The best novel he has written for some time: a story which is full of
   admirable character-drawing.'--_The Standard._


 #Robert Barr.# IN THE MIDST OF ALARMS. By ROBERT BARR. _Third
  Edition._  _Crown 8vo._  _6s._

   'A book which has abundantly satisfied us by its capital
   humour.'--_Daily Chronicle._

   'Mr. Barr has achieved a triumph whereof he has every reason to be
   proud.'--_Pall Mall Gazette._


 #J. Maclaren Cobban.# THE KING OF ANDAMAN: A Saviour of Society. By J.
 MACLAREN COBBAN. _Crown 8vo._  _6s._

   'An unquestionably interesting book. It would not surprise us if it
   turns out to be the most interesting novel of the season, for it
   contains one character, at least, who has in him the root of
   immortality, and the book itself is ever exhaling the sweet savour of
   the unexpected.... Plot is forgotten and incident fades, and only the
   really human endures, and throughout this book there stands out in
   bold and beautiful relief its high-souled and chivalric protagonist,
   James the Master of Hutcheon, the King of Andaman himself.'--_Pall
   Mall Gazette._


 #J. Maclaren Cobban.# WILT THOU HAVE THIS WOMAN? By J. M. COBBAN,
 Author of 'The King of Andaman.' _Crown 8vo._  _6s._

   'Mr. Cobban has the true story-teller's art. He arrests attention at
   the outset, and he retains it to the end.'--_Birmingham Post._


 #H. Morrah.# A SERIOUS COMEDY. By HERBERT MORRAH. _Crown 8vo._  _6s._

   'This volume is well worthy of its title. The theme has seldom been
   presented with more freshness or more force.'--_Scotsman._


 #H. Morrah.# THE FAITHFUL CITY. By HERBERT MORRAH, Author of 'A
 Serious Comedy.' _Crown 8vo._  _6s._

   'Conveys a suggestion of weirdness and horror, until finally he
   convinces and enthrals the reader with his mysterious savages, his
   gigantic tower, and his uncompromising men and women. This is a
   haunting, mysterious book, not without an element of stupendous
   grandeur.'--_Athenaeum._


 #L. B. Walford.# SUCCESSORS TO THE TITLE. By MRS. WALFORD, Author of
 'Mr. Smith,' etc. _Second Edition._ _Crown 8vo._  _6s._

   'The story is fresh and healthy from beginning to finish; and our
   liking for the two simple people who are the successors to the title
   mounts steadily, and ends almost in respect.'--_Scotsman._


 #T. L. Paton.# A HOME IN INVERESK. By T. L. PATON. _Crown 8vo._  _6s._

   'A pleasant and well-written story.'--_Daily Chronicle._


 #John Davidson.# MISS ARMSTRONG'S AND OTHER CIRCUMSTANCES. By JOHN
 DAVIDSON. _Crown 8vo._  _6s._

   'Throughout the volume there is a strong vein of originality, and a
   knowledge of human nature that are worthy of the highest
   praise.'--_Scotsman._


 #M. M. Dowie.# GALLIA. By MENIE MURIEL DOWIE, Author of 'A Girl in the
 Carpathians.' _Third Edition._  _Crown 8vo._   _6s._

   'The style is generally admirable, the dialogue not seldom brilliant,
   the situations surprising in their freshness and originality, while
   the subsidiary as well as the principal characters live and move, and
   the story itself is readable from title-page to colophon.'--_Saturday
   Review._


 #J. A. Barry.# IN THE GREAT DEEP: TALES OF THE SEA. By J. A. BARRY,
 Author of 'Steve Brown's Bunyip.' _Crown 8vo._  _6s._

   'A collection of really admirable short stories of the sea, very
   simply told, and placed before the reader in pithy and telling
   English.'--_Westminster Gazette._


 #J. B. Burton.# IN THE DAY OF ADVERSITY. By J. BLOUNDELLE BURTON.
 _Second Edition._  _Crown 8vo._  _6s._

   'Unusually interesting and full of highly dramatic
   situations.'--_Guardian._


 #J. B. Burton.# DENOUNCED. By J. BLOUNDELLE BURTON. _Second Edition._
_Crown 8vo._  _6s._

   'The plot is an original one, and the local colouring is laid on with
   a delicacy and an accuracy of detail which denote the true
   artist.'--_Broad Arrow._


 #W. C. Scully.# THE WHITE HECATOMB. By W. C. SCULLY, Author of '<DW5>
 Stories.' _Crown 8vo._  _6s._

   'The author is so steeped in Kaffir lore and legend, and so thoroughly
   well acquainted with native sagas and traditional ceremonial that he
   is able to attract the reader by the easy familiarity with which he
   handles his characters.'--_South Africa._

 'It reveals a marvellously intimate understanding of the Kaffir mind,
 allied with literary gifts of no mean order.'--_African Critic._


 #H. Johnston.# DR. CONGALTON'S LEGACY. By HENRY JOHNSTON. _Crown 8vo._
 _6s._

   'A worthy and permanent contribution to Scottish
   literature.'--_Glasgow Herald._


 #J. F. Brewer.# THE SPECULATORS. By J. F. BREWER. _Second Edition._
 _Crown 8vo._  _6s._

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       Printed by T. and A. CONSTABLE, Printers to Her Majesty
                  at the Edinburgh University Press





End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Wallypug in London, by G. E. Farrow

*** 