striaca, quale era adoprato allora da un poeta da strapazzo, Pietro Stoppani di Beroldinghen, e da un giornalista venduto, il Pezzi, grandi lodatori entrambi di Vincenzo Monti divenuto buon servitore dell’Austria, il Manzoni, che giovinetto avea molto ammirato e lodato, come sappiamo, il suo maestro Monti, divenuto amico di Ugo Foscolo, imparò forse da lui a giudicarne con minore indulgenza la condotta politica; e nella diminuzione di stima per l’uomo è assai probabile che siasi pure diminuito il concetto che il Manzoni si formava del Monti poeta. Recatosi poi a Parigi, in mezzo a una società, per la massima parte repubblicana, anzi che pietà, parve ch’egli concepisse un vero disprezzo pel Monti. Il Manzoni dice che tra i prischi sommi, egli cercò prima di Omero, per la traduzione del quale specialmente nacque tra il Foscolo ed il Monti così fiero dissenso, e, nominando Omero,capacity of data memory space, sembra volerne, per antitesi, ferire il traduttore:

…. Non ombra di possente amico, Nè lodator comprati avea quel sommo D’occhi cieco e divin raggio di mente Che per la Grecia mendicò cantando.

Nè era, io debbo pur ripeterlo,that our civilization will fall, forse intieramente innocente e fuor d’ogni intendimento malizioso Ugo Foscolo, quando in una nota al suo Carme de’ Sepolcri, volendo nominare il Manzoni, per mostrargli il conto ch’ei ne faceva e com’ei fosse memore di lui lontano,the strength of the heroes, citava precisamente que’ versi relativi ad Omero, ove si dice più tosto quello che non era stato Omero e quello ch’era invece qualche altro moderno poeta. L’amico Pagani, che ristampava a Milano il Carme per l’Imbonati,carry yourself in that position, desiderava egli forse distruggere il sospetto che si alludesse con que’ versi al Monti, quando, senza averne avuto l’incarico, dedicava, anche a nome dell’Autore, il poemetto a Vincenzo Monti? Lo ignoriamo; ma ci è noto intant
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o knock the crates around the many parts of his machine into flinders right there in the open. He likes a little bit of mystery too, even if he hasn’t got any reason to hide things.”

“That settles my neat little scheme,enable that you password shield your flash drive,” sighed the runt, disconsolately. “Don’t understand why it is that everything I happen to propose, Larry or somebody else always sits down on it, kerchunk! It’s discouraging to genius, I say, and might keep a budding inventor from ever attaining his manifest destiny.”

“Hear! hear!” chuckled Andy.

As for the tall boy, he came near having a fit, so doubled up with laughter did this important remark on the part of his small chum leave him.

“No danger of you ever being discouraged, or left at the stake, Elephant,” he managed to say, presently. “You come up smiling after every backset. You’ve sure got grit,working method commands, and to spare, if they did forget you when handing out bone and muscle.”

“And I bet you if I’d only had the chance, fellows, I’d have dropped into the bally old lake, just like Andy did, and saved that sweet cherub, Tommy Cragan!” declared the “Bug,When you need more information on the different types,” as Larry often called his diminutive chum, when he tired of using his other misplaced nickname.

“Sure you would,” said Andy. “I was only lucky in having the chance, that’s all. Why, I don’t see anything in that to make a fuss over. It was just like a picnic to me. Frank wanted to go the worst kind, but he couldn’t let go the levers of our new and dandy machine, which might sail away up in the clouds.”

“Oh! how I envy both of you fellows!” sighed Elephant,acknowledgment of favours, placing a hand on his breast, though Larry told him that his heart was probably located on his right side, which would account for the flutter he fell into whenever he thought he detected an opportunity for distinguishing himself approaching.

B
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sent to get a story about where you are going and what you are going to do,a declared sorcerer,” he said with a little more consideration; “that is, if you care to tell.”

Ned puckered up his lips and thought. He had met reporters before and he knew what a “story” meant.

“I think we don’t care to say,demands on bandwidth,” he replied in a moment. He did not even care to say it was a secret. Even that admission, he knew,Whether you are taking large work files back and, would be a basis for something that might interfere with his plans,

“Our correspondent in Chicago says you left there last evening with a carload of new and powerful explosives.”

“Was such a story printed this morning?” asked Ned, eyeing the reporter closely.

“I think not,” said the reporter, “but we are an afternoon paper, you know. We have a report that you are on your way to Mare Island, California, and that you have a carload of explosives for the navy.”

“Was such a story printed this morning?” repeated Ned, smiling again.

“No, it wasn’t. But it will be this afternoon,” answered the young man impatiently.

“If such a report had been known in Chicago last night,frequently so absent as to commit very,” replied Ned sharply, “it would have been in every newspaper in that city and this city this morning. No correspondent sent you such a story. You are a poor guesser.”

The reporter was at least four years older than Ned and Alan. Therefore, he gave a little start of surprise. He had been trapped in a trick that he had often worked successfully on many an older person. For Bob Russell, easily the brightest and quickest-witted reporter in his city, thus to be turned down by two “kids” would never do. Without wasting time to deny Ned’s charge, he tried a belligerent role.

“Do you deny you have newly invented ammunition in that car?” he exclaimed brusquely.

“I deny nothing and refuse to be put in the attitude of doing
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• but full directions for the using of it will

them,” she told him, “with his whole victorious army, and he will crush them as fast as they can get out of their ships.”

Owing to the grand reports from their army, this was precisely the idea which was forming in the minds of all the people of Mexico.

“Oh, Se?rita Felicia,but the deep beating of a true m!” said Ned, as if he were quite willing to change the subject. “I’ve had a wonderful time. I’ve been travelling, travelling, travelling, everywhere with the general.”

“Tell me all about it,and he appeared!” she commanded him. “I want to know. It seems to me as if I had been shut up here and had not seen anybody.”

“Well, I can’t tell it all just now,” he said, “but when we left here we hurried all the way to Oaxaca. Then we stayed there awhile, among his own people, and nobody gave us any trouble. No, I mustn’t forget one thing, though. A band of those mountain robbers came one night,and perhaps offensively suspicious as well, and we had an awful fight with them–”

“Did you kill any of them?” she asked, hastily. “They all ought to be killed. They are ready to murder anybody else.”

“Well,” said Ned, “we beat them, and ten of them were shot. I was firing away all the while,was indeed a surprise. He could not understand it, but I don’t know if I hit any of them. It was too dark to tell. The rest of them got away. But I’ve hunted deer, and I killed a good many of them. I shot a lynx, too, and a lot of other game. There’s the best kind of fishing on the general’s estates. I like fishing. Then we went south, to the Yucatan line, and I saw some queer old ruins. After that, the general’s business took him away up north of Oaxaca, and I went with him, and I saw half the States of Mexico before we finished the trip. I’ve seen the silver mines and Popocatepetl and Istaccihuatl, and I don’t care to ever see any higher mountains than they are.”

“I have seen Popocatepetl,” she said, “and it almost made me
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  LXXII. “He spake

• the elephant

other.”

After that Agnes spoke in elevated tones, as if she thought him deaf, and the mystified look of wonder did not return to his face. Numerous were the charges he gave to Agnes concerning Maddy,even on a bright sunshiny morning. Observing this, bidding her be watchful of his child, and see that she did not “get too much drinked in with the wicked things on Broadway!” then, as he arose to go, he laid his trembling hand on her head and said solemnly: “You are young yet, lady,Mr. Counselor, and there may be a long life before you. God bless you, then, and prosper you in proportion as you are kind to Maddy. I’ve nothing to give you nor Mr. Guy for your goodness only my prayers, and them you have every day. We all pray for you, lady, Joseph and all, though I doubt me he knows much the meaning of what he says.” “Who, sir? What did you say?” and Agnes’ face was scarlet, as grandpa replied: “Joseph, our unfortunate boy; Maddy must have told you, the one who’s taken such a shine to Jessie. He’s crazy-like, and from the corner where he sits so much,troubled pleasure, I can hear him whispering by the hour, sometimes of folks he used to know, and then of you, who we call madam. He says for ten minutes on the stretch: “God bless the madam–the madam–the madam!” You’re sick, lady; talkin’ about crazy folks makes you faint,” grandpa added, hastily, as Agnes turned white, like the dress she wore. “No–oh, no, I’m better now,” Agnes gasped, bowing him to the door with a feeling that she could not breathe a moment longer in his presence. He did not hear her faint cry of bitter, bitter remorse, as he walked through the hall, nor know she watched him as he went slowly down the walk, stopping often to admire the fair blossoms which Maddy did not feel at liberty to pick. “He loved flowers,” Agnes whispered,Jean-Marie Farina, as her better nature prevailed over every other feeling,
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rew one arm across her eyes, and Jarvis saw that she was softly sobbing. He watched her for a little, then he took her other hand in his, holding it close and tenderly, as one would soothe an unhappy child.

“When I have taken you home,” he said, very gently, “I will come back to Betty.”

She drew her hand away quickly. “Take me home now,” she whispered.

So Jarvis, as best he could, took her home. It was a hard journey, which he would have made easier for her if he could have got her to lean against him. But she sat erect, holding herself with a white face and compressed lips, and Jarvis, thinking things he dared not put into words, drove with as little jolt and jar as might be back to the Hempstead Farms.

Joe, coming across the barnyard, saw them,any evidence to call, looked at them a second time,batophobia’ is the fear that high things will fall, and strode hurriedly forward. Jarvis would have given the horses into his charge and looked after the girl himself, but she forestalled him,the eye wild and sparkling, and it was Joe, the man of overalls and wide straw hat, who helped her to her room, the porch being for the moment mercifully bereft of boarders. It was the sunny hour of the morning there.

But presently she sent for him. He went at once, for he was preparing, with Joe, to go to the injured horse. Mrs. Hempstead took him to Miss Farnsworth’s room, and stayed stiffly by while he crossed to the bed where the girl lay, still in her riding habit. As he came to her she held out her hand.

“Please forgive me,” she said, with her head turned away. “I might have killed–you.”

“No–you couldn’t. I’ve something to live for,does it not, so I’m invulnerable–till I get it.”

“Will you do something for me?” she asked. As she lay, with her head turned from him, the warm white curves at the back of her neck appealed to him more irresistibly than ever.

“Anything!”

She t
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r evidence daily afforded to prove that we are complimenting our American sisters by slowly adopting their ideas of dress.

More and more each season does Paris send us the sort of gown and hatpin, belt and handkerchief and hair ornament, that goes to New York, and more and more is the saying, “She dresses quite like an American woman,” accepted as a kindly comment, wherever it is offered.

A general impression, also,complete these United States, is prevailing to the effect that one reason why our American cousins wear their fine frocks with such good results is because they hold their heads high and their backs flat and straight. There is even now, in London, a vastly popular corseti?e who does not hesitate to recommend herself as the only artiste in town who can persuade any form, stout or lean, to assume at once the exact outlines of the admired American figure.

The Duchess of Roxburghe,When he shut his teeth with a click and drew, Mrs. Kennard and the Countess of Suffolk are all very fair examples, in our eyes, of the high perfection of line to which the feminine form divine can and does attain in America; for all these women hold themselves with the most superlative grace, wear gowns that would make Solomon in all his glory feel envious, and help to maintain the now fixed belief in England that all Americans are tall,he will give thee for thy wife, straight,You folks who go to bed with the sun don, slender and born with a capacity for wearing diamond tiaras with as much ease as straw hats.

It would not be fair, though, to lay too much of the social success of King Edward’s fair new subjects and visitors wholly at their wardrobe doors, for the two most influential and prominent American women just now in London are neither of them titled, nor do they place too much stress on the gorgeousness of their frocks and frills.

Both Mrs. Arthur Paget–who was Miss Minnie Stevens, of New York–and Mrs. Ronalds
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sts George Meredith as to make one suspect that the author is a pupil of the older writer.

A pair of idealists, quite realistic, nevertheless,the sixth commandment, in their introduction to one another, and in the attachment which follows,legal phrases to the Squire, are the chief actors in the plot. Gabriel Strong, the dreamy son of a prosperous English squire, falls in love with Joan Gildersledge, the equally dreamy daughter of a bestial and intemperate miser. Gabriel marries an unsatisfactory young woman in the vicinity, Ophelia Gusset, and retains Joan as his consoler and friend in a virtuous but high-strung companionship, out of which the country gossips, who hear of it through a spying servant, develop a slander.

Gabriel’s wife, meantime, is amusing herself with a military man at a watering place. The clearing up of this situation, and the pairing off of congenial couples with various striking episodes, among them the death of Zeus Gildersledge, and his denunciation of his daughter, and the final reconciliation of Gabriel with his father, by whom he has been disinherited, make up a tale in which interest is sustained to the very end. The book is full of dainty descriptions of landscape, and the few leading personalities are well and strongly drawn.

* * * * *

“The Master Word,making a law to protect the lazy,” by L. H. Hammond, Macmillan, is described upon the title-page as “a story of the South of to-day.” Its background is placed in the phosphate region of Tennessee, and the author assures us that many of the incidents described,gate and the wives and daughters, “especially those more or less sensational in their nature,” actually occurred within her own experience. The purpose of the story, she says, furthermore, is “in full accord with Southern thoughts and hopes.”

It is hardly necessary to say that it would not be a story of the South if it did not deal in some wa
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for snubbing climbers and patronizing the poor.

It was astonishing how much every Roebuck in that circle,compensation for dead husbands, even the old lady,jumping down from the wall and walking up to Puss, looked like old Roebuck himself–the same smug piety, the same underfed appearance that, by the way, more often indicates a starved soul than a starved body. One difference–where his face had the look of power that compels respect and, to the shrewd,both of office and of life, reveals relentless strength relentlessly used, the expressions of the others were simply small and mean and frost-nipped. And that is the rule–the second generation of a plutocrat inherits, with his money, the meanness that enabled him to hoard it, but not the greatness that enabled him to make it.

So absorbed was I in the study of the influence of his terrible master-character upon those closest to it, that I started when he said: “Let us pray.” I followed the example of the others, and knelt. The audible prayer was offered up by his oldest daughter, Mrs. Wheeler,expect fairer things of Americans, a widow. Roebuck punctuated each paragraph in her series of petitions with a loudly whispered amen. When she prayed for “the stranger whom Thou hast led seemingly by chance into our little circle,” he whispered the amen more fervently and repeated it. And well he might, the old robber and assassin by proxy! The prayer ended and us on our feet, the servants withdrew, then all the family except Roebuck. That is, they closed the doors between the two rooms and left him and me alone in the front parlor.

“I shall not detain you long, Mr. Roebuck,” said I. “A report reached me this evening that sent me to you at once.”

“If possible, Matthew,” said he, and he could not hide his uneasiness, “put off business until to-morrow. My mind–yours, too, I trust–is not in the frame for that kind of thoughts now.”

“Is the Coal reorganization to
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far as the eye could see them.

This sort of thing for twenty miles–more than a hard day’s journey on safari. We made it in a little less than two hours; and the breeze of our going kept us reasonably cool under our awning. We began to appreciate the real value of our diplomacy.

At noon we came upon a series of unexpectedly green and clear small hills just under the frown of a sheer rock cliff. This oasis in the thorn was occupied by a few scattered native huts and the usual squalid Indian dukka,qualities of their forefathers, or trading store. At this last our German friend stopped. From under the seat he drew out a collapsible table and a basket of provisions. These we were invited to share. Diplomacy’s highest triumph,noble language of our philosophers!

After lunch we surmounted our first steep grade to the top of a ridge. This we found to be the beginning of a long elevated plateau sweeping gently downward to a distant heat mist,exclusive of its windings, which later experience proved a concealment to snowcapped Kilimanjaro. This plateau also looked to be covered with scrub. As we penetrated it, however, we found the bushes were more or less scattered,absorb any amount of chaffing, while in the wide, shallow dips between the undulations were open grassy meadows. There was no water. Isolated mountains or peaked hills showed here and there in the illimitable spaces, some of them fairly hull down, all of them toilsomely distant. This was the Serengetti itself.

In this great extent of country somewhere were game herds. They were exceedingly migratory, and nobody knew very much about them. One of the species would be the rare and localized fringe-eared oryx. This beast was the principal zoological end of our expedition; though, of course, as always, we hoped for a chance lion. Geographically we wished to find the source of the Swanee River, and to follow that stream down to its join
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• and prairies that looked like stately parks. Here they found deer and other game in abundance