Boys Own Paper June 28, 1913

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be prepared for a spell of intense darkness. . . . Ready?' "Yes. sir!' was the eager reply." (.See "Under the Edge 0/ the Earth," p. 612.)



610 The "Boy'J Obvn Taper.

U n d e r t h e E d g e

t h e E a r t h :A S t o r y o f T h r e e C h u m s a n d

S t a r t l i n g Q u e s t :

OfBy P. H. BOLTON,

Author of "In the Heart of the. Silent Sea," etc.

CHAPTER XIV.- ' I HAVE SOMETHING TO SHOW YOU

K this latest turn of events how much, andyet how little, hadbeen gained ! Howmuch in the positivestatement of DennisHutton's fate, and yethow little in thematter of proof ! Itseemed from all inquiry, from evidenceboth of a positiveand a negativenature, that theyoung fellow had, bysome means, beenactually taken aboardthe Condor, as thewoman had averred.It seemed, too, astime passed on withcruel and tramplingfeet, that there couldbo no hope of newsconcerning the ship.Days grew into weeksand nothing fresh wasforthcoming. WereDennis aboard or not,it was, at least, onlytoo clear that the S.S.Condor must be added

to the list of ships missing, and that her crew-must be given up as having found at lengththe end so commonly the lot of them that

go down to the sea in ships.

Nor was it found practicable to makefurther advance along the line of what wasnow more than mere suspicion. By nomeans, either of bluff or finesse, had thepolice detective been able to elicit fromSmith of the Pretty Poll anything whichJnight set the matter on firmer foundationOf fact. Not even a promise of entireabsolution on the part of the wrongedparents could draw from him more thanan angry and indignant refutation of anycharge in the matter. Either the man wasinnocent, which no one really belie ved: orwas cunning beyond ordinary, which wasalso hard of belief, but not impossible. Asfor the wife, she had from the day of her

confession kept a frightened silence, tillat length she had been brought to facethe matter before her apparent ly outragedhusband, when, to the confounding of those who sought to trap him, he hadadmitted the maudlin statements, and thenimpudently set them down as a drunken jest.

" The thing is not uncommon," the detect ive told Mr. Hutton afterwards. " Manya confession of that kind has fallento the ground when sifted. As for thewoman's evidence—it is worth that "—hesnapped his fingers as he spoke—" in a courtof law. The wife's testimony is unacceptable."

Harassed, torn by doubt and grief, the

father had himself applied to Smith, ina vain attempt to get the truth, howeverterrible ; only to be met by denial as indignant as in the case of the other inquirers.

" I'll none say as I don't ow e you summat,"was the man's brutally frank admission." Yon six months as you give mo in Lune-chester Castle hasn't been forgot by me, and

won't be, neither. But I tells you I knowsnowt about your lad beyant seeing him thatneet on t' wharf. I has my joke, same ast' rest on us, when I'm drunk ! "

He laughed scornfully ; but it was noticedthat when next poor Mrs. Smith appearedin public she had a tell-tale bruise overher eye, and a nasty cut on the lip, suchas might have been caused by the brutalityof a none too affectionate husband.

So crawled on the slow, sad days of theMichaelmas term. Hope was all but dead :poor, faithful hope, so keenly tenacious of life in even the worst of us. In Mr. and Mr?.Hutton it had gently slipped from its placeand given room to quiet resignation—theresignation of those who feel that, even

when they suffer cruelly, God has not ceasedto care. But in Morris and Phyllis hopestill struggled for its own, though itsstruggles grew more and more feeble withevery weary day. Indeed, in Leonard 's case,in spite of the call of study and school

routine, a call to which the lad tried to turna bravely attentive ear, he grew perceptiblydepressed. This was so unlike him thatat last the Head himself began to noticethe change in his pupil. Morris had alwaysheld a high place in his esteem, and he spokeone day to Mr. Brant about the state of things.

" H'm," said the latter thoughtfully;" I'm inclined to agree with you that it'sabout time to try and get the lad out of himself."

The Head suggested a study companion,but the other opposed the idea.

" Not yet, I think," he ventured. " Idoubt if the cure will be effected by that.I'm inclined to believe that Morris wantsan entire change. He was to have gone,I understand, to his father's station in theHimalayas after his schooldays, beforegoing on to college. I fancy the visitshould have taken place after the Mid

summer term next year, but perhaps—" ,

" Perhaps," interposed the Head, " itwould be well to advise his relatives thatthe change should come earlier, eh ? "

" Just so," answered Brant, " thoughI, for one, should be sorry to lose him."

In ignorance of the interest the two

masters were taking in him, Morris satin his study t rying to keep his mindupon his work. This evening he wasconstruing a portion of Schiller's " WilliamTell " for the morrow's class.

" How old Hutt would have got funeven out of this beautiful passage," hemuttered to himself. " He was always soeasily amused over German pronunciat ion,and never troubled much abou t anythingelse. Heigho ! What's this word ? "

He rose to get his dictionary : he was afairly proficient scholar, and was not oftenin need of one. Ho remembered he had lenthis own a few days ago.

" Never mind, I'll use Hutt's. Dearold Hut t ! "

He reached to the shelf where stood hisfriend's books, and drew down the one required. He opened it and a paper flutteredto the floor. He picked this up and looked

at it for a moment: then, with no warning,his head went down upon his arms and hewas sobbing like a little child.

So keenly had his emotion taken posses

sion of him that he did not hoar the knock at his study door, nor the slow turning of the handle. 'The door opened and Mr.Brant entered, standing for a few momentsin astonishment and consternation. Thenho softly shut it again and locked it on theinside. This done, ho turned to the boy andtouched him gently on the shoulder.

" Morris ! " he exclaimed. " Morris, myboy, this will never do ! "

Morris started to his feet in shame atthe discovery of his breakdown.

" You, sir ! " he cried. " I never heardyou come in. I'm an awful fool. But Icouldn't help it. Upon my life, sir, I neverthought I'd be such a soft-headed ass."

He had much ado, even as he spoke, to

keep control over his voice. Mr. Brantcaught sight of the paper on the table." It was that knocked me over for the

moment, sir," said the lad, and the master

took up a clever little sketch. It represented three boys stretching over the parapetof a high bridge and scratching at the stonework for dear life. It was called " Signingthe Anti-Humdrum Pact," and in the cornerwas inscribed " D. Hutton fecit ." He putit down. He knew something from what thelads had told him, and he understood.

" German for the morning," he saidbrightly, making on purpose no furtherallusion to the matter. " Well, I'm not aGerman scholar ; what's it all about ? "

" It's a bit from ' William Te ll,' sir,where a man called Melchthal hears hisfather has been blinded, and he's in awfultrouble about it. It's rather a decent bit,about the light of the eye being a noble-gift of Heaven."

" S o it is ! " exclaimed the master, withsudden enthusiasm. " S o it is ! One of the greatest of our physical gift s! Oh,boy, what should we do without the powerof appreciating light 1 And yet, even now,we don't half value it as we ought. We'reblind, groping creatures, every ono of us.A noble gift of Heaven : ay, a noble giftindeed ! "

He seemed to have forgotten his hearer'spresence. Morris stared at him in astonishment, and the look recalled the master to hissurroundings; recalled him, too, with fresh

purpose in his mind. He had looked in onhis way from his interview with the Head,intending to take Morris back with him fora chat and company, but he had not realisedhow keenly tho boy was feeling the dailyabsence of his chum. It was evidentlynot before time that the Head had begunto notice things. He turned to Leonardwith one of his reassuring smiles.

" Come, my boy, " he said cheerily. " I'mstartling you with my sudden rhapsodies,eh ? What do you say to shutting up yourbooks and spending an hour or two inMoor View ? "

He hesitated a moment, and then added,as in a sudden burst of resolve:

" Besides—I—I have something to show

you ! "An invitation from Mr. Brant at any time

was one to acc ep t: an invitation with thislast inducement superadded was irresistible.With real relief in his heart Morris accom

panied the kindly master to his home, afew minutes' walk from the school. It was.evident from the moment they emerged



Under the Edge of the Earth. 611

into the dark roadway that the evening's

hospitality was to be of a nature out of the

eommon: and out of the common where

" The Wizard " was concerned was very far

removed from the usual interpretation of

the term. Indeed, he himself had framed

the resolve quite on the spur of the moment

from his especial regard and sympathy for

Leonard, and his faith in the boy's absolute

trustworthiness. And yet, even then, asho stepped homewards with his guest, he

began to wonder if he had not possibly been

too premature. He put his arm through

that of the Sixth Form lad.

" Morris ! " he said, slowly and impressive

ly. " I am about to trust you as I have

trusted no other person living, because I

have implicit faith in your honour and self-

control."

" Thank you, sir ! " was the low and

earnest reply. " I'll not disgrace your

opinion of mo."

" And what I ask," said the other, as

they entered the house, "is that all you see

and hear to-night shall bo kept to yourself.

The secret is mine, but I lend it to you for

your pleasure. And also ," he added, with

a passing touch of triumph in his voice." that you may be the first to share in my

delight."

They threw off their hats and coats, and

the master led the way to the back of the

house, Morris following with nerves stretched

tight in wondering expectation. Mr. Brantunlocked the passage door, behind which

were hidden the mysteries known only to

"The Wizard," and not oven suspected by

any other. A softened green light touched

the higher part of the walls and the ceiling,

sunt from the gas-jet in the outer passage,

the rays filtering through the green-tinted

fanlight pane. To the imagination of the

boy, excited as he was both by Brant'sevident air of mystery, and an undefinable

feeling of some strange experience ahead,it seemed as though they were in the antechamber of a place of mystic rites.

Neither spoke as the master took down the

lamp from j ts bracket near the lower door

and lighted it. This done, he produced his

second key, and, opening the door, passed

on down the steps, holding it open with one

hand whilst the other, uplifted, held tho

ught. Morris passed down the three or four

remaining steps, and Mr. Brant allowed the

door to swing back. It settled softly into

its felted frame, the lock gave its gentle

snap, and the two stood for a few seconds

in silence, Morris looking about him inkeenest wonder, and Mr. Brant taking stock

of the lad's face witli a smile of satisfaction.

They stood in a large and lofty under

ground chamber, walls, ceiling, and boarded

floor all coloured a dead black. Of furni

ture the room was bare, save for a table

and a chair, but from one wall hung what

seemed to be a thin sheet of black metal,

and at the farther end of the chamber a

shelf ran along the wall for the accommoda

tion of various odds and ends of appliances

and materials. A long and narrow folding

trap-door ran down the centre of the floor,

as Morris could sec by the hinges and the

central rings for lifting the boards, though

at the time of his entry the door was shut

down.

It was not, however, the unexpectedbareness of this underground apartmentthat made the most impression upon the

visitor. It was rather the sombre and

eerie blackness of everything about him.

Screen, walls, table, chair, shelf, instruments,

all were coated with the same dull pigment;

and Morris noted now that even the lamp

in Mr. Brant's hand was also a dead black,

save for the chimney through which the

welcome light was streaming.

The silence was broken by the master.

He had been watching his visitor's facewith all the eagerness of the experimentalist.

Morris was the first stranger to pass those

two quickly-closing doors, and the guardia nof the mysteries which they so jealously

screened was more anxious than" the boyrealised to see how his gradually revealed

secret was being received.

" Well," he said, with something of a

strained laugh, " how doesthis suit vou ? "

Morris turned a questioning face towards

him.

" It's a bit creepy perhaps, just at first, sir ;

but I'm on springs to know what's coming.There's something behind all this that's going

to be jolly interesting, I dare swear."

The other placed the lamp upon the table.

" Now," he said, " we'll get things into

working order. I won't make any promises,

or do any explaining at present. Just useyour eyes while you have a chance ; but

remember—all secrets remain here ! "

" I give my word , sir ! "

For the next quarter of an hour not a word

was spoken . The master seemed absorbed

in his own occupation, and the b oy, though

burning to ask questions even more quickly

than they could have been answered, put

the curb upon himself until such time as

the sign should bo given him to speak.

With wondering eyes he watched " The

Wizard "—who seemed to be justifying

his own peculiar nickname with a vengeance

—as the latter stooped and laid hold of a

ring in the floor, signing to Morris to step

a little to one side, whilst he pulled back

one folding half of the wooden trap, re

peating the process afterwards with theother portion.

Morris looked down into what seemed

interminable blackness, but little relieved

by the lamp upon the table. How deep

the space below him might bo he could not

tell, and felt no inclination to venture too

near, but he could just see in the darkness

a long rod-like instrument lying parallel

to the plane of the floor, with movable

discs fixed in rings so as to slide backwards

or forwards along the stem.

The next movement was to the shelf,

from which Mr. Brant took an apparatusof rod and caps that appeared to Morris

much like an elongated skeleton stereoscope.

This he placed upon the table, and, turning

again to the shelf, took down a roll, black-coated on the outside, like all else in thatstrange room, and which, when opened,

Morris saw to be a map of the world. There

were not too many names upon this map,

WE'VE JUL BEEN THROUGH

THE

IT'S FIMEr.



612 The "Boy's Obun Taper.

only some of the chief towns, rivers, mountain

ranges, and boundaries being shown, and

in the t op left-hand corner of the scroll was

a list of places and districts, with numbers

against each, as thus :

" 4E by 2 gives Berlin."

Standing over this as it lay spread out

on the table, " The Wizard " studied it with

a smile—an unusually triumphant smile,it seemed to the observant lad. He re

membered the same look, though perhaps

not so intense, that afternoon when the

master revealed to the startled Sixth the

American railway smash. He held his

peace : the very air seemed charged with

mystery.

For a time Mr. Brant appeared to hesitateas if in doubt what course to pursue, turningfrom one part of the map to another. At

last, however, he seemed satisfied, nodded

to himself, consulted the table of figures

in the corner, and, stepping round the

opening in the floor upon which Morris

had been keeping a wary eye , proceeded

to the opposite wall. Here he worked at

a small crank-handle ' set in the wall,

which up to now had escaped his visitor'sattention.

Morris stared as the strange rod-like instrument rose slowly from the darkness at his

feet upon an elongating telescopic stand.It pointed horizontally, and its upward

movement ceased when about two feet above

the level of the floor. Utterly mystified,

the boy continued to regard it fixedly,

wondering what next movement would be

made. The curious contrivance could

evidently be turned to point in any desired

direct ion, being workable much on the

principle of the sextant, by means of

micrometer screws and vernier scales to

correspond to the exquisitely fine gradings

shown upon horizontal and vertical circular

plates at the point where the rod pivoted

upon its stand.

Again referring to his map, " The Wizard,"

after laying a loose plank across the opening

in the floor to serve as temporary platform,

adjusted the instrument to the desired

position. It now pointed in a slantingdirection towards the top of the wall from

which depended the metal screen, its. lower

half being almost hidden in the black

gulf below the flooring. Working furtherscrews, Mr. Brant drew out the rods and

separated the discs to the necessary distance

apart, which he ascertained from a second

table on the map. His next step was to

so adjust the screen that the instrument

pointed at right angles to its centre. Hethen rolled up the map and replaced it on

the shelf, proceeding afterwards to arrangethe smaller apparatus which Morris had

taken for a new-fangled stereoscope, so

that it, too , pointed to the centre of the

(To be continued^)

screen. In this position the other end, to

which the eye would be placed at the proper

time, came slightly below the edge of the

table, but could be got at without much

inconvenience.

" N o w ! " he cried, and there was a

clearer ring than ever of glad triumph." Now, Morris, to business! Just place

this over your head and shoulders."

He handed Leonard a black cowl, which

that youth drew over himself with a laugh,

there being an opening for his eyes, and

another for purposes of breathing. A pair

of thin black gloves were then given him,

and when these were donned Mr. Brant told

him he was ready for anything that might

turn up.

" It 's a wee bit stuffy, perhaps, but

never mind. We mustn't grumble at a

few discomforts. Sit down here, so* that

you can use this eye-piece when I tell you.

I'll stand behind you to guard against any

untoward toppling over into the pit at your

back ! We mustn't forget that! How

ever, there's plenty of room, so don't be

nervous. Take a good look at the position

of that eye-piece first. And now be

prepared for a spell of intense darkness,which we will fill in with talk. Ready ? "

" Yes , sir ! " was the eager reply.

He turned out the lamp, and darknesswrapped them round as with a heavy

cloak.

S O M E F I E L D E V E N T S AND H O W T O

WIN T H E M .By F. A. M. WEBSTER, L.A.C.

(English Amateur Javelin-throwing Champion, 1911,- Hon. Secretary, Amateur Field Events Association.)

PUTTING THE 16-LB. SHOT AND THROWING THE HAMMER.

s

POTTING THE 16-LB. SHOT.

1HOT-PUTTING is probably one of the worst

conducted events of our public school

programme. I have seen the shot put from

a square, from an eight-foot circle and even

from a line, the competitors standing with

their backs to the line and throwing the shot

from between the legs over the head with

both hands. It may be as well, therefore, to

dwell somewhat fully on the rule governing

this contest.

The shot may weigh 12 lbs. or 16 lbs., as

the Games Committee may decide. The

shot must be put with one hand, and in

making the put it should be abov e the

shoulder and not behind. All attempts are

to be made from a circle 7 feet in diameter.

The circle to be a

metal or wooden ring,

painted white andsunk almost flush

with the surface of

the ground.

On the middle of

the front half of the

circle (fig. 1) is placed

a stop board, 4 inches

high and 4 feet long,

which must be firmly

fastened to the

ground. In making

the put a competitor's

foot may rest against,but not on top of, this

board. For a put to count, no part of the

competitor must touch ground without the

circle until the shot has come to earth. Themeasurement of each put is to be taken

from the nearest edge of the mark made by

the shot in falling to the circumference of

the ci rcle on a line from such mark to the

centre of the circle.

Each competitor is allowed three puts and

the three competitors doing the three

4 f t

SHOT PUTTINC

CIRCLE

farthest puts shall be allowed three further

attempts, the farthest put of all to win.

The shot-put is an event essentially for

the strong boy , requiring a great deal of

steady patience and practice before any

good results can be obtained. Here, as

in all the events, it is a matter of method,

form and style, and quick-controlled

muscular action. Here again, absolutely

rhythmical motion is needed throughout;

the preliminary movements must be so

exactly timed as to lead up to one tremendous heave when the put is actually

made.

It will not appear t o the novice an ab

solutely vital matter for him to learn to hold

the shot correctly, but in later days when

he has attained his build and weight and

the muscles of the forearm and wrist are

fully developed, a proper method of handling the shot will be worth many inches.

Do not grip the weight, or the power of

the forearm will be lessened by the con

traction of the wrist sinews; let it rather

lie in a cup formed by the fingers and palm

of the hand. The little finger and thumb

are only used for preventing the missile

from slipping off the hand ; the main weight

is borne, therefore, by the three middlefingers, which are kept slightly curved to

prevent the weight slipping back towards

the tips. It is well to tuck the shot away

comfortably just below the ear with the

elbow directly under and close in to the

side, but keep the hand in close to the

shoulder.



Some Field E-Ventj and Hobv to Win Them. 613

Putting the Shot.

(A. E. Flaxman, L.A.O., ex-English Pole-jumping and Hammer-throwing Champion, BritishOlympic Team, 1908.)

I. The first position to be taken up in the circle.

STO P BOARD

FIG. 1.

At first it is as well to learn the puts

standing, swinging the shoulders wellround as the shot isdelivered, and here—as in throwing thediscus — the arm isreserved to polish off the stroke, the heaveof the shoulder beingthe main contributingfactor in the wholeeffort. The beginnershould also try for elevation, that is to say,put the shot well upinto the air when itleaves the hand ; and

he should see that he gets it fairly wellaway to the front.

Having accomplished this he may takehis stand in the circlewith his feet in the

position shown in fig. 1.While the athlete isgetting easy in thecircle and taking uphis stand, the weightshould be held in theleft hand so that nostrain will be put uponthe right arm until itis actually needed.

When the put isabout to be made the shot is passed intothe right hand, and immediately a quick

spring forward is taken

to the centre of thecircle, which is immediately followed by a

second similar springwhen the feet are asshown in fig. 2 . Atonce the feet are reversed with a quick spring; this naturally

throws the rightshoulder round thearm shooting out to

polish off the stroke. The feet will then be

at the position shown in fig. 3, the lefthaving been swung around to retain thebalance.

It must always be remembered that theforce which makes the shot go is the springacross the circle and rapid reverse of the feet,and the swinging round of the shoulders.

FIG. 2 .

FIG. 3.

HAMMER-THROWING.

Here is a sport at which, from time totime, we have been able to produce somefine performers, such as J. J. Flanagan,Tom Nicholson, and—greatest of them allfor his inches and from a scientific point of view—A. E. Flaxman. To perpetrate abull, all the great American hammer-throwersare Irishmen ; it will be remembered thatMatt McGrath, who holds the world'srecord to-day, is an Irishman by birth. Of late years, through the lack of competition, we

have got a little behind America in the art,but shall soon regain our place when theschools begin to take up hammer-throwingseriously.

Many schools do not include hammer-throwing on account of the strain on theperformers ; but where the boys are smallthis danger can always be averted by usingthe 12 lb. instead of the 1 6 lb. hammer;and in any case, if the throwing is properlyworked up to and carried out, there need beno danger to the athlete whatever. Of course hammer-throwing, like shot-putting,is essentially an event for the heavy boy,although I have known some very good

light throwers ; but it will always be theold tale of a " good big 'u n" beating a" good little 'un."

The hammer is thrown from a 7-feetcircle, and for the throw to count no part of the person of the competi tor must come outside the circle until the hammer has struck the ground. Here again, as in all theother weight events, absolute smoothnessof concerted muscular action is essential.The arms are so little used in actuallymaking the throw that they may be regarded

as being merely an elongation of the handleof the hammer. The present-day hammeris a sphere of lead attached to a long pieceof piano wire with two stiff loops at the endthrough which the hands of the thrower arepassed.

The novice wishing to take up this sportshould confine himself at first to learning the

correct method of swinging the hammeraround the head. The athlete first takesup his position with the feet some 2 feetapart, and commences to swing the hammerround the head. Care should be taken thatthe arms be kept as straight out as possibleand that the hands pass well behind thehead. As will be understood, a greater

momentum is thus imparted to thespherical weight.

As the hammer swings across in front thebody leans back, resisting the pull, and as thehammer passes over the head to the back,the thrower leans forward with the kneesslightly bent, thus checking the tendencythe hammer imparts to him to topple overbackwards. When swinging the hammer,full play should be given to the shouldersin lifting them up and opening them out .Also, when the hammer passes above theperformer's head it should be all on thesame straight line, almos t parallel with theground.

The purpose aimed at in this preliminaryswing is absolute smoothness of action ratherthan rapidity of motion . When the swinghas been properly mastered the novice maytry throwing from a stand, and when he hasgot used to letting the hammer fly withouthimself falling over, then he may take uphis position in the circle and commence tolearn the turns.

At first he will only be able to master oneturn, but when he has mastered the artsufficiently to work up to the two, then he

will be absolutely astounded at the improvement to be seen in his throwing after thissecond turn has been accomplished. The

Putting the ishot.

(E. Barrett, City Police A.C., British Olympic Team,1908 and 1912.)

II. The actual put being made. NOTE : Barrett hasmade the put a little too soon; the right leg should befarther round before the arm shoots out.



614 The "Boy's Obvn Taper.

ideal way is to get three turns in the circle,

but when it is remembered that the circle is

only 7 feet in diameter, it will be readily

realised that the third turn can only be

hoped for after long and painstaking

practice, and then only by the most active

of throwers.

When the competitor enters the circle

the feet are firmly

planted as shown in

fig. 1, about 2 feet

apart and with the

toes almost touching

the edge of the circle.

It must be unders t o o d t h a t t he

thrower is standingwith his back to the

direction in which the

throw will be made,

the hammer is swung

until it is felt that

FIG. 1.

FIG

have at-

In this position

around the head

sufficient momentum

has been attained,

and then, as the

arms come straightout in front of the

body, the first turnis made, the thrower

pivoting on his left

foot c o m p l e t e l y

around to fig. 2.

The body should

now be well up on

the toes, but should not yet

tained its maximum speed.

No break or pause must occur between

the turns, the second turn being only a

c o n t i n u a t i o n and

repetition of the first,

which leads to the

throw at lightning

speed in the position

s h o w n in fig. 3.

From this position

the hammer is heaved

away over the left

shoulder, the athlete

FIG 3 being well up on his

toes as the effort is

made and taking care to give the hammer

good elevation as it goes hurtling on its

flight.

The spinning motion initiated when the

first turn is made will continue, and will spin

the athlete round until ho is facing in the

direction in which the throw has been made ;

he may then find it convenient to drop back

on to the hands to prevent himself from

going out of the circle.

One thing to remember is that, in making

the turns, the body should be a little in

front of the hammer so as to get a goodpull on it, instead of letting the hammer

drag you round. Above all, expect lots of

disappointment, but don't give it up ; when

yo u do start really throwing, it will more

than repay you for all your trouble. I

have only shown two turns in the diagram as

I think this will be all that any boy will be

able to manage.

(To be continued.)

" EARTH gets its price for what Earth gives us.

At the devil's booth are a!l tilings sold,

Each ounce of dross costs its ounce of gold ;For a cap and bells our lives we pay,

Bubbles we buy with a whole soul's tasking ;

'Tis Heaven alone that is given away,

*Tis only G-od may be had for the asking ;

No price is set on the lavish summer;

June may be had by the poorest comer."

(" The Vision of Sir Launfal,"J. R. LOWELL.)

Hammer-Throwing.

(W. E. B. Henderson, O.U.A.C. and L.A.C., swinging the hammer before commencing the turn.)

O U R " B. O .P ." DRAUGHTS COLUMN.

Probl em H o. 185.

By HENRY 0. ROBINSON (P. & 0. S.S.

" SARDINIA " ) .

W H I T E .

White to move and win.

4 NOTHEK composition from our contributor's

J\ last batch, projected en voyage to the

Straits Settlements.

SOLUTION TOPROBLEM No. 133.

By HENRY 0. ROBINSON (P . & 0. S.S.

" SARDINIA " ) .

Position : Black man on 25, Kings 22, 32 ;

White Kings on 23, 31. White to move.

Black to win.

'3—20 20—22 22—29 29—25 31—24(A)32—18 18—23 32—28 23—27 28—19

Black wins.

(A ) 22—17, 26—22, Drawn.

SOLUTION TO PROBLEM NO . 134.

By HENRY 0. ROBINSON.

Position : Black men on 1, 3, 7, 8, 9, 12,

15, 18, 28. White men on 10, 20, 22, 26, 27,

29, 30, 31, 32. White to move and win.

GAMES.

GAME NO. 75—" DOUBLE CORNER."

A top-board representative of a Liverpool

Draughts Club, Mr. A. Alexander, is totally

blind, the result of an accident about ten

years ago. His interest in the game stillimpels him to play with the aid of a special

board and men. He plays by touch ; and

the following game with Mr. Frank Dunne

of Warrington was contested recently in a

Liverpool versus Southport team-match :—

Black : A. Alexander. White : F. Dunne.

9—1423 1911—1527 297—11

22 1815—2225 95—14

20 2211—1530 208—11

24 2015—2428 1911—1532 28

15—2428 194— 8

22 178—11

19 1012—1929 72—11

20 2311—1529 2515—1829 1918—2920 1014—1817 14

10—1721 141— 5

16 116—10

14 73—10

11 710—14

7 211—1725 2117—22

2 022—25

6 1018—2219 16

25—2916 1122—26II 726—80

7 25— 92 69—196 9

30—2610 1526—299 14

22—2515 1828—1918 22

25—3031 27311 -2.-,22 2625—2220 1713—22

(a)14 17(6)22—25

17 2225—3021 1730—2522 2625—2227 29Drawn.

(a) 14-18,19-23,18-25, 29-22, etc.B. wins.

(6) Mr. Dunne remarked on the conclusion

of the game that Black would probably

have won here by 22-26, 17-22, 26-31, 21-17,

31-27, 23-18, 29-25, 18-11, 25-18, 11-7,

27-23, 7-2, 23-26, 2-6, 26-22, 17-13, 18-14,

etc. B. wins by a variation of the " FirstPosition."

29—25 12—197—14 22—17

20—16 14—21

20—2319—2030— 5

-30 WhiteWins

MR. SCISSORS :

(or, Mr. Thread ? '

MR. THREAD: '

1

What in the world are you dancing

Can't you see I'm a Scotch Reel ? "



615

T h r o u g h

A f g h a n

S n o w s ;

Or , L ar i K h a n o f t h e D i a m o n d

S t a r .

By J. CLAVERDON WOOD,

Autlwr of " Sinclair of the Scouts," " Jeffrey of the While Wolf Trail," tie.

CHAPTER X X . — T HE FALL OF GHUZNEE.—FLIGHT.

W

HEN Bob saw the British regiments

crossing the plain, and driving inthe skirmishers and outposts, he realised

that his position was rapidly becoming a

very difficult one. To leave Ghuznee was

now out of the question, and equally im

possible was it for him to fight against his

own people. On the other hand he had a

responsibility towards Amran Ali and the

ten men who were with him, and a duty to

be discharged in regard to the Ameer, Dost

Mohammed Khan, who wa3 doubtless

awaiting the news from Ghuznee with

anxiety.

He consulted Amran Ali, and proposed

that ho should take over the command of

the troop, so that Bob might dress in a

peasant costume and seclude himself in

some quiet spot until the fighting was over.

Then the troop might gather together at

an agreed-upon placo and return to Ghari

Ghilzai. This proposition was merely for

the purpose of testing Amran Ali, and his

reply was oxactly as Bob had expected it

would be.

"May my hand wither, Lari Khan," said

Amran decisively, " if I do an3'thing to

separate you from the troop. We serve

Abdul the Mullah as well as Hyder Khan,

and although in our hearts we would be

glad to fight tho Feringhee dogs, our duty

to tho chief demands that we must try to

carry out his commission, and take the

message to the Ameer in Kabul . Ghuznee

will laugh at every effort of these accursed

followers and helpers of Shah Shujah. The

walls are high and strong, the canals deep,the gates are barricaded and guarded by

crowds of valiant Afghans. The Feringhees

will waste months before the walls of

Ghuznee, and in the end will have to confess

defeat. Why, what happened at Herat,

Lari Khan ? Herat was a weak, open city

compared with this. Afghans, Persians,

and Russians were laughed at for months,

and finally had to retreat defeated. Fear

not, we are not needed to defend Ghuznee,

for the city is in no danger. If wo can

contrive a way out of the place, let us takeit and be off to join Talib and the rest."

" You forget, Amran, that it has been

said that Herat was victorious because the

Englishman, Pottingor, was the life and soul

of the defence. There are greater English

men lying out there on tho plain and in thehills, and if Ghuznee were ten times as strong

as it is, they will take it, if they make up

their minds to do so."

Amran slapped his knee and laughed

loudly. "T ho u crowest well, Lari Khan,

but thou art wrong. What can those

beardless women out there do to Afghan

warriors who have been born andbred among tho mountains, t o

whom war is a matter of daily

pastime ? We shall sweep them

before us like the wind blows the

chaff from a threshing floor."

r x Bob had his own opinion about

this, but turned the discussion to

the more important subject of

their escape from Ghuznee. He

knew that the men would agree

with Amran. As in most Afghan walled

cities there were postern gates, hidden in

the recesses of great buttresses, which were

used by camel drivers and gardeners, whose

duties often took them outside the ci ty,

and for whom it was useful to have a gate

nearer than the great gates of the city.

Amran knew of one on the western sideof the town. Ho had often used it. A

bridge of stonework had been thrown over

the canal, and when in full use and in times

of peace,two horses could easily cross abreast.

It was now destroyed and had nothing

but the foundation columns standing. The

gate had been built in with heavy baulks of

timber. Several empty houses belonging

to the citadel were close by, used

occasionally as guard-houses.

Bo b obtained permission from the

Governor to occupy them with his men.

The horses, with a plentiful store of provisions

and forage, were stabled there, and Amran

and the men set to work to form a temporary

gangway, which could be run along on

wheels and thrust over the canal. Planking

to form high sides was placed into position.

It was a difficult task to clear away enough

of the barricading to allow a horse to walk

to the gate, but it was done after a few hours'

labour and the postern itself left in such a

position that an hour's work would make

it passable. Bob ordered the men to stay

in tho houses, and to be ready at any time

for orders to leave the city.

When night fell on July 22, a storm of

wind and rain drove everyone into shelter,

and men on duty were glad to creep into

any corner in order to escape the tempest.

Bo b went up to the citadel to see Hyder

Khan. He found the Governor cheerful and

alert.

" Allah is fighting for us, Lari Khan," he

said with a smile ; " and tho country itself is on our side. The rain will spoil the

ammunition and make the soldiers cold

and wretched. Tents will be blown away.

Yo u will see a disorganised army to-morrow

when we open our attack with the big guns.

We have been watching the movement of

the Feringhees to-night, and spies have

signalled that largo bodies of men are

massing opposite the Kandahar Gate.

Evidently they intend to begin the attack

there. I have ordered the men to mass and

guard the walls on that side, and every gun

in the citadel which can be swung in that

direction is loaded and primed. Go to

your house and sleep in peace. Ghuznee

is impregnable."

But Bob was in no mood for sleep. He

sent Amran word to give the men a goodmeal and feed the horses, and to lie beside

their steeds, ready for movement at a

moment 's notice . Then he picked his way

through the dark streets to the defences

above the Kabul Gate.

The sentries were huddling round a fire

which had been made in the shelter of a

bastion. There were not more than a hundredmen upon the battlements over the Gate,

and of these the great majority were fast

asleep, while the sentinels were nodding

drowsily.

Wrapping himself in his cape Bob stood

and looked steadily across the bridge in

the direction of the Kabul road. More than

once he thought he heard the sound of

stumbling feet, but the wind and darkness

perplexed him. About three in the morning

he was on the point of turning away when

the sudden roar of artillery from the Kanda

har side of the city made him jum p with

alarm.

In a few minutes the heavy booming of

the c itadel guns awoke the Afghans, shouts

were heard, and trumpets blown. Sirdars

and officers rode wildly through the streetsin order to see that their men were at their

posts. Clearly the British were about to

attack and batter down the Kandahar

Gate. Turning their attention from the

Kabul Gate, the sentinels and guards, now

wide awake, listened intently to the booming

of the guns.

Meanwhile, unknown to them, the stormers

detailed for the attack of the Kabul Gate

were crouching in the shadows, awaiting

the success of the explosion party. Each

man with Durand carried a heavy bag of

powder, which he piled against the Gate,

and then he himself withdrew into shelter.

Durand had a length of prepared cord by

which, when ignited, the fire w ould run along

the ground to the powder. As he was

scraping the cord with his finger, Bob saw

him crouching near the Gate.r

l hen someone

drew a pistol and fired into the air, giving

the alarm. Instantly a rain of bullets,

unaimed, came from the battlements, and

blue lights were lit and swung backwards

and forwards in order to enable the besieged

to locate their attackers.

But as yet nothing could be discerned

from the wall, and the heroic Durand and

his sergeant worked steadily among the

powder bags, trying to get the fuse to gnite.

The damp of the stormy night may have

affected it, but for a time it seemed as

though it could not be made to burn.

Captain Peat, crouching with the bugler

who was to sound the " Advance," lay about

fifty yards from the Gate. Again a stormof bullets came from the walls and Peat Haschipped in several places, and the bugler

shot dead. Farther in the rear Colonel

Dennie with the 13th Light Infantry

awaited the bugle call to advance with

eager impatience. The heavy and con

tinuous fire of the big guns showed that the

attention of Ghuznee was mainly directed

to the false attack from the Kandahar side.

Suddenly there was a bright flash from the

powder. Durand and his sergeant rushed

across the bridge and cast themselves on

the ground. Then with a roar like thunder

there came a mighty explosion, and a thick

column of flame and smoke rose high above

the walls.

Huge baulks of timber were flung into the

air, masonr}' crumbled , and the great gatesfell with a crash. Clouds of dust filled the

air, and from the battlements a wild,

despairing cry of amazement and anger rose.

Captain Peat rushed back to find a bugler,

and shrieked upon Colonel Dennie that tho

gate was down. Then clear above the

tumult came the stirring notes of the



616 The "Boy's Ote>n Paper.

" Advance " and, with a glitter of bayonets,the stormers dashed at the ruins of the gate.

The Afghans, recovering from their panic,crowded from the battlements to defendthe entrance to the Kabul street, and withtheir sharp sabres offered a sturdy defence.For a time the heroic Dennie found it impossible to make headway, because of thehuge masses of dislodged masonry andshattered timber. His stormers fell back,and it was reported to Brigadier Sale, whowas leading the main column, that Denniehad been repulsed. But it was not so, andpresently a hearty British cheer announcedthat the forlorn hope had won its way intoGhuznee.

The bugles rang out the " Advan ce " andlike lions Sale's men swept across the bridgeand dashed into the struggle. Ensign Frere,carrying the regimental colo ur of the 13th,came hurrying along, closely followed bythe Ensign of the 17th. Each man wasburning to be the first to place the symbolof victory upon the citadel of the city.

Bo b had been carried away by the wildrush of the Afghans, as they swept downto defend the gate, and found himself

jammed near some fallen timbers. Near himthere stood a powerful Afghan, who held arazor-like sabre in his hand. His face wasset and his eyes were blazing with fanaticalfury. He looked at B ob and pointed to theadvancing British, who, led on by BrigadierSale, were pounng into the breach.

As Sale, waving his sword, drew near,the Afghan sprang upon him, and struck him a severe blow on the cheek. It was aheavy stroke, and the general fell. Witha roar of triumph the Afghan swung hissabre to repeat the stroke. As he didso Bo b put out his foot and trippedhim. He stumbled and falling upon Saleimmediately gripped him by the throat withone hand, while with the other he stroveto kill him with his weapon.

Sale struggled and managed to roll round,and to loosen the grasp of the Afghan. Bo bwas on the point of firing when a Britishofficer leaped forward, and saved theGeneral by cleaving the skull of the Afghan.At this moment a soldier rushed at Bob withhis bayonet. Turning the weapon asideBob dodged behind some timber, an d slippedthrough the crowds unharmed, finallydarting into a house.

He ran along the passages and madehis way through the stables into anotherhouse, and so into the street again. Rushingalong he shouted to the Afghans to rallyfor the defence of the Kabul Gate. Theywere not slow to answer his call, and , despitethe heavy firing, hurried to the succour of their comrades. Bob darted along, making

for the citadel. He met Hyde r Khan andthe Sirdar Ahmed.

" The gate is taken, my lord," he gasped," the British have forced their way through,and a strong column will soon be here.Retreat into the citadel or all is lost."

Hyder Khan grasped his hand, and hurriedaway. Bob soon found himself near the littlepostern where his men werea waiting his return.

" Quick, Amran," said Bob , " get thehorses down with the postern, and run thegangway out . Wo must be off in a fewminutes or it will be too late. The Britishhave taken the Kabul Gate and are sweepingtheir way into the citadel. Nothing canBtop them. All is clear outside the postern .

Quick, for your lives ! "

Amran was reluctant to leave the city,and made a movement as if to rush to thedefence, but he saw that such an actionwould avail nothing and that if the troopdid not escape the news would not reachthe Ameer in good time. In less than half

an hour the gangway was out and acrossthe canal, and the troopers led the horsessafely over, and were prepared to mountand ride away.

It was now broad daylight, heavy cloudswere sweeping over the skj', and the troopsof Shah Shujah could be seen far across theplain. Setting spurs to his horse Bob ledthe way to the hills. As he did so, he looked

up to the citadel and,f rom the topmost tower,he saw two flags waving. They were theregimental colours of the 13th and 17th,and Ensign Frere had had the honour of first planting his flag upon the watch towerof Ghuznee . A mighty cheer arose fromthe British as the sun shone on the flags.

CHAPTER X X f.

CAPTURED BY AFREEDEES.

OME two hundred killed andwounded wasthe c os t o f Ghuznee to theB r i t i s h ; five

hundred A f -g h a n s w e r eburied by thevictors, manyhundreds werewounded, a n dc r o w d s o f stragglers werecu t off andmade

prisoners by the cavalry outside the city.Hyder Khan was discovered hiding in ahouse not far from the Kandahar Gate, andon being led before Shah Shujah was received with courtesy and granted his liberty.Sirdar Ahmed broke away and found refugein a mountain fortress among his own people.

A huge amount of ammunition, stores, andforage fell into the hands of the victors,

and thousands of horses and camels suppliedthe need of the caval ry and artillery.

Meanwhile Bob and his party raced alongthe rough hill-paths, and at midday hadreached the spot where two men had beenplaced as the news-carriers to Kabul . Bo bsent them forward to take the news, thatGhuznee had fallen, to the next two men,with instructions to transmit the message toKabul, and at the same time to warn Talibthat Lari Khan was coming.

Riding through the afternoon, the troopcame in the evening to a tract of rough,broken country. It was thickly wooded.

Flying from a tree was an unrolled turban.As Bob drew near he fired his pistol, andstanding upon the saddle waved his turbanto and fro, making the signals agreed to

between himself and Talib. The unrolledturban disappeared from the tree, and wasseen waving an answer. In a few minutesTalib and some of his men galloped downthe slope and welcomed their leader.

A camp had been formed and a meal wassoon prepared. After an hour's rest Bo bdetermined to push on with Amran Ali andforty of his men, leaving Talib and the restto come on with the horses they had riddenfrom Ghuznee, after the animals hadrecovered from their fatigue . It was afifty miles' ride to Kabu l,but Bob determinedto reach the Ameer as soon as possible afterhis messengers.

They set off a little before midnight, andrested an hour or so after each ten miles.

About four in the afternoon of the next daythey rode in sight of Kabu l. Wheeling roundin order to strike the Jellalabad road theyleft the Seeah Sung Hills on the right androde straight for the Bala Hissar, or citadelof the capital, entering by the Lahore Gate.

The city lay in a fertile plain, watered bya canal and the Kabul river, between tworanges of hills, and the loopholed walls whichformed the outer defences seemed to beabout three miles in circumference. It wascrowded together in the endless confusionof an Eastern city, and its streets, with oneor two exceptions, were narrow and dark,twisting hither and thither like the tortuouswindings of a maze. The houses were of sun-dried bricks, with mud roofs, as timberwas costly and could only be spared to beused as frames for the clay or mud. Theroofs were flat, but exceedingly irregularin height.

The houses of the chiefs and rich menwere distinguished by a porch of carvedwood,' giving entrance to a long passage

which opened upon a courtyard, in the centreof which was a raised platform where treesand flowers grew, and a fountain played.Carpets and rugs were spread there andusually a summer-house was erected . Thiswas always the favourite lounging place of the owners, and here in the heat of the day

• they smoked their pipes, and listened tomusic or the romances of the story-tellers.

The wider streets formed the bazaars,where the vendors occupied open rooms,and plied their trade, as artisan or merchant,

before the gaze of the passer-by. The GrandBazaar was built in arcades, and had astrong roof ornamented with painted panels,and here and there drinking cisterns andfountains were placed. As Kabul is thecentre of a richly cultivated district therewere immense piles of fruit, vegetables, andprovisions of all kinds. And as it is also acentre between Turkestan, Persia, Thibet,and India, its market was crammed with abewildering array of carpets, rugs, armour,saddlery, weapons , silks, and oriental

jeweller}'.

The city is dominated by the citadel, theUpper and Lower Bala Hissar, a huge for

tress capab le of containing many thousandsof men and horses. It commands the cityentirely, so that the power which holds theBala Hissar is the absolute master of Kabul.

Waiting at the Lahore Gate was themessenger sent forward by Bob. He haddelivered the news to the Ameer, and it wasevident that the fall of Ghuznee had profoundly agitated the people. The streetswere crowded with armed men, many of them wild dwellers of the mountains, whostrode along with all the truculence of thebandit who has defied the laws all his lifeand is prepared to follow nothing but his ownwill. Traders slipped along as though theydid not desire to court observation, and inthe dark alleys men held whispered conversations with each other. The defences were

all manned and the gates closed.

Bob and his party were challenged manytimes before they reached the Lahore Gate,but the name of Lari Khan of the DiamondStar was a passport which procured immediate entrance, and they rode straightthrough the crowded streets to the palaceof Dost Mohammed. Here Bob found hisway blocked by an almost endless streamof chiefs, Sirdars and Khans, who wereleaving the presence of the Ameer. Hehad summoned them in order to receivetheir professions of allegiance, and sinceearly morning had been consulting with thefaithful, and exhorting the wavering.

At this moment he was alone, and in afew minutes Bob was summoned into the

presence of the Ameer. He was a stronglybuilt, determined-looking Barukzye, with akeen eye and an alert expression of countenance, but Bob saw that he was depressed.He stood to attention and waited for the

Ameer to speak.



Through Afghan Snobus. 617

" You are a Feringb.ee," said tlie latter.

Bob bowed and remained silent.

" A Feringhee," continued the Ameer, "but

one whose name is dear to Dost Mohammed

and his son Akbar Khan. I knew thy father,

he was a faithful friend; thou bearest an

honoured name, Lari Khan, and come from

one whose fidelity has proved that in Ghari

Ghilzai a refuge always remains for me. Is

Abdul the Mullah well ? "

" He is well, my lord, and sends thee

greeting by me. Abdool Rashed Khan was

the traitor who betrayed the secret of Ghuznee to the army of Shah Shujah. 1

found him out, and Hyder Khan ordered his

arrest, but he had fled. He told the British

that the Kabul Gate was the vulnerable spot

in Ghuznee, and the ci ty was taken,

as you know. When I left, the British

colours were flying from the topmost

tower of the citadel, and Ghuznee had

fallen. In a few days the victorious

army will be hammering at the Gates of

Kabul."

" I know it," said the Ameer. " I

have summoned Akbar Khan from the

Khyber. Afzul Ali, that accursedAfreedee, has made his passage through

the Pass difficult, but to-morrow he will

arrive at Kabul. I am surrounded by

traitors and discontented chiefs, who

are even now

plotting to join

Shah Shujah's

army. They

have professed

allegiance t ome, but theirlying lips could

hardly frame

the word s of

fai thfulness,

t r e a c h e r o u s

w o l v e s t h a t

they are. Myhand has been

a just one, but

h e a v y ; an d

they hope for

greater freedom

t o r o b a n d

pillage. They

will get it from

that weakling,

Shujah. When

Akbar Khan

joins me I shall

h a v e a b o u t

twenty thou

sand men. If a

twentieth part is faithful I shall be

astonished. I shall draw up my armyat Urgundeh, so that I may be able to retreat on

the mountain country of Bamian, and, before I

fight, I will find out what the chiefs intend to

do. If they support me I shall fight to the death .

If they desert my flag, I shall retreat to Bamian.

and gather new forces from the hill tribes. Can

these Feringhees fight ? "

" Like furious lions, my lord ," said Bob. " The

British soldiers at Ghuznee did not know what

fear or hesitation meant. They leaped through

the blazing timbers of the Gate straight on to

the sabres of the Afghans, and their bayonetsswept your soldiers away like a strong wind

scatters the leaves of the forest. I have had

little experience of warfare, so cann ot compare

them with other warriors, but to me it seemed

that nothing could withstand such ferocious

bravery."

The Ameer nodded, and for a while seemed lost in

contemplation. The entrance of some attendants,

with fruit and tea, aroused him. He looked

around as though he had awakened from a dream.

" Take some food, Lari Khan," he said, " and

before setting out to Ghari Ghilzai I want to give

you a present. Thou hast served me

faithfully and 1 am still able to reward my

friends. Thou wearest the Star, I see; it

was the gift of Shah Shujah to thy father.

Set this other Star beside it, and then in

thy turban and on thy breast thou wilt

carry the gifts of two Ameers. "

He unfastened the large diamond Star of

the chief Order of Afghan chivalry , which hewore on his tunic, and pinned it on Bob's

breast.

"Between both gifts," he said, with a

smile, " thou ar t likely to be safe, for to those

who serve Shujah the smaller star is a token

which will be respected, and to my friends

the star which I myself have worn will

always be a passport to their favour. And

now I want thee to do

something more for me.

I need a messenger upon

whom I can place implicit

r eliance.

I h av e

ent my

brother, Nawab Jubbar Khan, to the army

of Shah Shujah to ask what terms the

British are prepared to offer me. If the

Afghan people are anxious to exchange

Ameers doubtless Shujah will be able to

rule without tho aid of Feringhee bayonets

and Feringhee money. He is welcome to

try it, if I can receive honourable and fitting

terms. What the answer will be I do not

know. In any case I must have Akbar Khanand his followers with me at Urgundeh .

The traitors here aro doing all they can t o

keep us apart and that is why Afzul Ali is

so busy in the Khyb er and the Khoord Kabul

Passes. I have sent messengers to Akbar,

but have no means of knowing whether they

have reached my son. How many men

have y ou with yo u ? ' '

"Fifty, my lord."

" They are too many, for suspicion would

be at once excited if they were seen on the

Jellalabad road . Take two or three and send

the rest to Ghari Ghilzai. Let it be known

that yo u are all returning. When you

A party of

scooting shortly

gate." (Seep. 618.)

http://feringb.ee/

http://feringb.ee/



618 The "Boy's Otvn Taper.

approach the Seeah Sung heights as a troop,slip away with your two comrades, and ride

as fast as you can towards the Pass.

You will soon fall in with Akbar Khan.

Place this despatch in his hands, andimplore him to hurry with all speed to

Urgundeh, where I will join him. Youcan then strike over the mountains to Ghari

Ghilzai."

Bob placed the despatch in his pocket,

and saluted the Ameer. " Allah defend

thee ! " said Dost Mohammed, " thou wilt

be faithful to thy salt. Farewell."

Immediately Bob sought Amran Ali and

Talib, and acquainted them with the

important commission which the Ameer hadplaced in his hands. It was decided to send

the troop home under the leadership of

Zeman Ali, one of the smartest of the officers,

while Bob , Amran, and Talib endeavoured

to reach Prince Akbar Khan.

" Make the fact known in the bazaarthat tho troop returns to Ghari Ghilzai.

Spies are everywhere and it is doubtful if

any of the messengers have been allowed toget through. Everything depends upon

the junction of Akbar with the army of the

Ameer. Wo will start a little before sunset,so as to be at the Hills before darkness falls.

Bo speedy, Amran, see that the horses are

in good condition, and that there is plenty

of ammunition for the men."

As Bob strolled through the crowded

bazaar he could see that more than one

man was keeping him under observation.He was followed to the house near theLahore Gate, and the same men were idling

about when the troopers swung themselves

into the saddle, and the order was given to

march. As the Gate closed behind them

Bob breathed a little more freely, for the

atmosphere of Kabul was threatening anddangerous.

After a five miles' ride they reached thevillage of Bygram, and passed on to Boot-

khak. It was now approaching midnightand the troop halted for an hour's rest.Amran led three horses to a quiet spot and

covered their hoofs with felt. They were

not more than ten miles from Kabul, but

the frowning entrance of the Khoord-Kabul

Pass was only a short distance ahead.

Sentries were posted, and the men, wrapping

themselves in their thick cloaks, lay down

to sleep.

Without any farewell, Bob , Amran, an 1

Talib slipped into tho darkness and led the>

horses a few hundred yards from the camp.

Then they mounted and pushed on for the

Pass. The defile was about five miles from

end to end, and was shut in on either hand

by a line of precipitous hills, rough, broken,

and almost unscalable. A mountain torrent,flooded with the melted snows, dashed

impetuously through it. The road wound

along the ravine, now on one side of the

stream and now on the other, necessitating

frequent fordings.

In the Tezeen Valley, a wide, open space,Bob came upon the advance guard of Akbar

Khan's forces. They were snatching a

brief repose. The three men stumbled upon

tho outposts before they were aware, and

would have been shot had not Amran Ali

cried out that they wore messengers from

the Ameer Dost Mohammed.

Akbar Khan was aroused from sleep. He

listened with interest to Bob's story of thefall of Ghuznee, and tore the despatch open

with eager haste.

" I have been expecting a message sinceI left Jellalabad ," he said as he read;

" my father promised to keep me well

informed."

" Have no messengers got through ? "

said Bo b. " I know that a number were

sent off from time to time."

" Not o ne ," replied the Prince, " save aGhilzai who brought a verbal messagebidding me encamp at Jugdulluk and aw ait

further orders. I suspected the man, and

had him hung as a warning to others. He

may have been true, but I liked neither his

face nor his message, and made an end of him."

" He was false, my lord, without a doubt,

for if you had waited at Jugdulluk hisHighness the Ameer would have sought

your help in vain."

" Y e s , " replied the Prince, his dark eyes

lighting up with a fierce glare, " andthat villainous Afreedee, who has

dogged my footsteps like a hungry wolf,

would have gathered his men and destroyed us in the most difficult places

of the ravine. I start forthwith, Lari

Khan, and will not halt until I hold the

Bamian road, and can assemble my force

at Urgundeh. Do you ride with me, Lari

Khan ? "

" N o , my lord, I ride to Ghari Ghilzai.Amran Ali tells me that a few miles

down the Pass it is possible to strike

over the mountains to the town of

Abdul. I will rest to-night, and marchearly in the morning. If there is

any force dogging your footsteps they

will follow you along the ravine ratherthan on the mountains, so with care we

can easily avoid enemies, and by to

morrow be well on our way to GhariGhilzai."

In less than an hour the scouts reported

all clear ahead, and the force of Akbar Khan

disappeared up the ravine. Bob led his

horses across the valley to the hill-side,

and Amran searched about for the track

which led up tho mountains. It was not

easy to follow the winding path, and the

hardy, wiry horses slipped, and barelyescaped being hurled over the rocks, but,

after many hours' toiling, daylight saw Bob

and his companions high above the valley,

and all around them were the peaks of the

mountain range.

Choosing a sheltered spo t, they tethered

their horses and lay down to sleep. They

were all exhausted with their hard riding

of the past few days, and although Amran

kept tho first watch and promised to

awaken Talib after two hours, as a matterof fact he only partially aroused him and

both men fell asleep again almost im

mediately.

A party of Afreedees, scouting shortly

after sunrise, caught sight of the horses,

and came near to investigate. They

pounced upon the three men and tiedthem up, supposing them to be Afghans

of Akbar Khan's army, and slinging themacross the saddles like dead venison they

struck off along the crests of the range, in

the direction of Jellalabad.



619

A W I L D - G O O S C C H AS B .

A S c h o o l S t o r y .

i -m

By PAUL BLAKE.

" \T°m c

'c

'm v < l e a r » " said the Doctor to Mrs.

l \ Brandon despondingly. " I'm at the

end of my resources."

" Have you been to tho police station ? "

"No, my dear: I did not want to advertise the fact that a boy from this school had

run away."

" But everyone will know it to-morrow,"

she replied : " it's the sort of thing thatcan't be concealed for ever. The first

thing anyone who finds him will do is to

tell the police, so you'd better see the

Inspector at once."

The D.jctor argued the point—somewhat

against his judgment—but, for once, his

wife was firm and he dejectedly put on

his overcoat again and sallied forth on his

unwelcome errand.

At the police station he was received by

Inspector Button, a most conscientious

official. Tho Doctor explained that one of

his pupils was " lost, " and was annoyed

when the Inspector wanted to know wherehe had been last seen and various other

details which could not be answered without

the truth coming out. The Doctor there

fore had to make a clean breast of it:

making light of it as a trifling affair of a

boy playing truant.

He was somewhat comforted by Mr.

Button's optimism. According to him

there was no fear whatever but that the

boy would be traced without delay—it

would be a strange thing indeed if he eould

elude the vigilance of the force.

The Inspector put on his spectacles and

opened a big volume. " Now, sir, I must

trouble you for a few particulars. His

name, sir ? "

" Ibrahim."

" A foreigner, I presume, sir ? "

" Yes, from Morocco."

" Age, sir ? "

" About thirteen."" His address ? "

" Mei'ton House," replied the Doctor,

who was getting impatient. " I told you

he was one of the boys of my school."

" Yes, sir, but I must enter categorical

particulars," said Mr. Button, evidently

proud of his phrase as he repeated it.

" Details are quite unnecessary," retorted

Dr. Brandon. " Moorish boys in English

clothes are not common objects in thisneighbourhood."

"How was he dr es sed ?" inquired the

Inspector.

"I 've just told you, like an Englishboy: just an ordinary suit and mortar

board."

" Mortar-board! " cried Mr. Button, who

had never heard the word. " How did he

get hold of it, and what on earth does a

boy want with "

" A cap, a hat," explained the Doctor

CHAPTER II .

hastily, regretting he had used the slang

term instead of the phrase "college-cap."

Mr. Button made a careful entry that the

missing boy wore a cap or hat.

" Now about this mortar-board," he re

sumed ; " it seems to me "

" The mortar-board is a hat," interrupted the Doctor: " a flat cap with atassel: you must have seen them often

enough."

" Of course, sir ; just so ." He wouldnot confess that the term Has nen to him :

the omniscience of the force was one of

his dogmas. " I think that will do, sir;

and I've no doubt that we shall have some

news for you in a day or two."

" But he must be found to-night," cried

the Doctor. " Where is he going to sleep ? "

"T ha t depends, sir," was the oracular

answer, given as if the speaker knew, but

for important official reasons thought it

wiser to keep silent. " I'll give the neces

sary instructions and take the usual steps.Should any occurrence transpire you shall be

notified at once."

With this assurance the Doctor had to be

content. To pacify his conscience—and

Mrs. Brandon—he made another round of

the town before returning home.

Ibrahim had not returned : it was now

night and further search would be useless.

His wife was now thoroughly anxious,

and the Doctor had to make as light as he

eould of the matter in order to comfort her.

" No, no, my dear, there's no cause for

alarm ; he's not the boy to get run overor tumble into the pond. Like the pro

verbial bad penny, he'll turn up again

right enough. I. at all events, am not goingto spoil my night for him, and I only hope

that he may go through some experienceunpleasant enough to give him a lesson

he'll remember."

But, notwithstanding his assertion, the

Doctor had a disturbed night. Once he

awoke fancying he heard the front doorbell. Once he was awakened by his wife

who was under a similar impression, and an

equally incorrect one.

He descended to breakfast in a bad

temper : his wife also was not in her

generally placid humour.

" Where can the bo y have spent the

night ? " she began : " it was raining hard

at two."

" He's only himself to blame," retorted

Dr. Brandon. "T he probability is that

he's passed a better night than we have."" He'll be so hungry, to o, " sighed Mrs.

Brandon.

" He's got four buns at any rate ; he

won't starve."

Breakfast over, Mrs. Brandon insisted

on her husband's visiting the police station

for news : against his will he promised to

do so. It was his custom to read prayers

to the assembled school after breakfast,

but on this occasion he sent a message to

Mr. Harris to deputise for him and hurried

out on his errand. It proved as fruitless

as he expected : there was no trace of

Ibrahim.

His wife was anxiously waiting his return." Yo u haven' t found him 5 "

" No, I haven't, and what's more I'm

not going to try. Let the police see what

they can d o ; the school shan't be upset

because a young idiot chooses to absent

himself."

He turned off to the class-room, where

a small advanced Latin class had a bad

time of it till the bell at a quarter to eleven

set them at liberty. The boys then had

what was known as "th e interval"—a

quarter of an hour of freedom, enough for a

breath of fresh air in the playground, or

for a tart or apple for those who possessed

any money.Ibrahim was a parlour-boarder, and oneof

his privileges was to have a slice of cake

during the interv al: he came regularly

to fetch it from the parlour, where Mrs.

Brandon always kept a cake in cut. When

the bell rang on this eventful day she,

unthinkingly, took the cake from the cupboard and cut a slice.

The Doctor entered at that moment.

" Who's that for, my dear ? "

" Dear me ! I quite forgot: it was for

Ibrahim, of course."

" He'll go without it for once," said the

Doctor, " and serve him right."

"And he's so fond of it, too," said his

kind-hearted wife.

" Perhaps the thought of what he's

missing may attract him back," remarkedthe Doctor sarcastically.

As if in response to his speech there was

a gentle knock at tho door." Come in," said Mrs. Brando n. The

next moment she gave a cry of delight;

it was Ibrahim ; tidy and clean, with no

sign of having spent a night under a hedge

or haystack.

" Yo u poor boy , where have y ou been ?

What a fright you've given us ! "

" I've only been to school, ma'am," was

the unexpected reply.

" To school ? Where did you sleep last

night ? "

"In my bed, ma'am."

" But you ran away yesterday afternoon,"

thundered the Doctor.Ibrahim was silent: he was not the boy

to incriminate himself.

" Come here,boy," commanded the Doctor," and let us have no nonsense. Why did

you break bounds yesterday ? "

Ibrahim, seeing that his escapade couldnot be denied, decided to make the best of it.



520 The "Boy's Otvn Taper.

" I wanted to go to Mr. Lambe rt's, sir."" Without leave ? "" I'm ' barred ' for a fortnight, sir."The Doctor remembered then that for a

recent offence he had forbidden the boy toleave the school precincts for a fortn ight.

" When did you return ? "" After tea, sir."" How did you get in ? "

" B y the back door, sir: it was open. "" And then ? "

"T he n I went to bed, sir." Apparentlyhe thought that the interview had lastedlong enough, for he turned to Mrs. Brandon.

" Please, may I have my cake ? "Before the Doctor could interfere, his

wife had handed him the usual slice.

" Take it away, boy ," cried the Doctor,"and come to me after morning school."

Ibrahim did not rep ly ; his mouth was

too full. He marched off munching hiscake with an air of indifference : he did notmuch mind the Doctor's threats, as heusually met his punishments by a policyof masterly inactivity.

Directly he had left the room the Doctorturned to his wife.

" I do wish, my dear, you wouldn'tencourage that boy to defy me."

" I encourage him ? Wh y, I'm alwaystelling him to respect you."

" Yo u welcome him like a long-lost son ;

you give him cake "

" It's the jam before the powder," saidhis wife : " your turn will come after school.What are you going to do to him ? "

" I shall have to spend the rest of themorning in trying to invent some punishment which he can't evade and which hewill cordially dislike."

" It needn't be a severe one this time,"remarked Mrs. Brandon. " After all, he onlyplayed truant for an hour or two. Itisn't his fault we took it for granted he hadbeen away all night."

" That's a mystery I must clear up,"said the Doctor, ringing the bell forJane.

" But it's clear enough : as no one knewhe'd run away why should they tell youhe'd come back ? "

" Jane knew.—Ah ! here she is—Whydidn't you tell me last night that Ibrahimhad returned ? "

[THE END.]

" I thought you knew, sir."" How should I know ? When did you

see him ? "

" When I went to turn down the beds,sir. He was in his bed, eating a bun, andI thought as how you'd sent him to bed as apunishment like you did yesterday."

" He came in by the back door," said the

Doctor severely: " it must have been

open."" Wh y yes, sir : we don't bolt it when one

of us is ab ou t: he must have slipped inwhen no one was looking."

There was no more to be got out of Jane,

who departed under a sense of injustice.She informed Cook that next time theDoctor might find out for himself if a boyran away.

The bell for resumption of school had.already sounded: the Doctor prepared to

go to his duties.

" Don't forget to tell the police that he'sfound," said his wife as she opened the

door.

"And I wish he hadn't!" ejaculated theDoctor, as he angrily slammed the doorbehind him.

L O N D O N P L A C E N A M E S AN D T H E I R

H I S T O R Y .

PLAGE names are to us the cryptic records

of the past whose meaning lieshidden beneath centuries of distortion,and whose clear character may have been

partially erased by ages of the perpetualabrasion of everyd ay usage. Still theyremain living documents that shall speak to us of war and conquest, of peacefulsettlement and prosperous trade, of bygone amusements andforgotten ceremoniesof deep religions; fornames are, and everha v e be e n , de scriptive. The number of these ethnicd o c u m e n t s t h a tremain to us, clearwrit, is so great thata full catalogue mighteasily fill a volume,but the followinginstances, culled inLondon alone, willserve to give us aglimpse of how theb y g o n e t o w npleasured and workedand worshipped, howa " boundless con

tiguity " of brick andmortar canons hasreplaced the pleasantfield and forest of Bethnal Green andStepney, and howbudding hedgerowslanes have become

of streets thatCross.

By LEONARD 8. GOLDSMITH.

and dun, a fortified hill)—was originallyformed by Tower Hill, Cornhill, and Lud-gate Hill. It was effectively protected bythe Thames on the south, the Fleet on the

west, the " arrant fen" of Moorfields andFinsbury on the north, and later by artificial fortifications on the east.

Some ninety years before the landing

and miry country

the seething hive

hum round Charing

EARLY LONDON.

Londunum or Londinum—the hillfortress on the river (lyn, a stream,

of Hengist and Horsa it was taken bythe Saxons who slew Carausius, the

Count of the Saxon Shore, appointed byDiocletian to protect this coast and theseas in the vicinage, " quod Saxonesinfestabant." The Danes eyed the richtown jealously, and about 1013 their fleetsbesieged it unsuccessfully for manymonths. Thei r sojour n is marked by the

names of Greenwich and Woolwich (the"green reach" and the "hill reach").Woolwich stands as Hulvie in Domesday—the hill being the prominent landmark of

Shooter's Hill. Other remnants of theDanish stay are Deptford, or " deep ford,"and the characteristic Norse names of theriver headlands, Sheerness, Shoeburyness,

Danesea Flats, and Langenhoe.

The various Roma np r o c o n s u l s a n dgovernors attemptedin vain to change itsname to Augusta, andAmmianus Marcel-lanus writes thatLondon is now a thingof the past, and hasg i v e n p l a c e t oAugusta — " A bAugusta profectus,quam veteres adpel-lavere Londinum."

LONDON WALL.

The ancient walledCity of London canyet be traced by themodern streets anddistricts to which ithas given names.The wall began atthe ancient fortressof the Conqueror on

Tower Hill and ran tothe Old Gate (Aldgate). Thence it rannorth-west to the Bishop's Gate, through

which London 's prelate used to proceedto hunt in his private forest of Stepney(Stebenhythe, the landing-place of Steven).The quarter-mile between Aldgat e andBishopsgate was protected by an openditch some two hundred feet across,whose unsavoury name, Houndsditch,



London Place flames and their History. 621

reveals its use as a dumping ground forthe city garbage.

Immediately within the wall lay an openpiece of ground covered with the hardyherbs whose names survive in CamomileStreet and Wormwood Street. The wallcontinued north-west to the Moor Gate bywhat is now known as London Wall, E.C.,and Moorfields and Finsbury are traces

of the great moor or fen that formed thenorthern boundary. At the north-westangle stood the Barbican, a strong fortthat secured this portion from attack.From Moorgate it proceeded to the Elders' Gate (Aldersgate), and thence south-westpast the New Gate to the Old Bailey, aname derived from " vallium," a dry moatbetween the outer wall and the cityboundary. Here it turned due south tothe Fleet Gate (Flood Gate or Ludgate),its western boundary being washed by thelittle river Fleet. Thence it proceeded tothe Thames, and at the junction a Normanfortress rose, the only remaining trace of which is the name Castle Baynard (nowa wharf). Dow Gate and the Villein'sGate (Billingsgate) were two of the

fortified entrances along the river face.

The original wall was of late Romanconstruction, but in rebuilding the Normans adhered to its early lines. Lit tleof it is now visible, though remains are

J9*

frequently excavated. At the beginningof last century huge masses with treesgrowing upon them stood in what is nowFinsbury Circus, and many blocks remainin cellars from the Tower to Cripplegate.The only visfble section is the bastionin Cripplegate Churchyard, St. Giles. London Stone, now set in a building inCannon Street, was a part of the first

Roman wall, which was enclosed on allsides by the later erection. It marksthe site of the principal entrance into thewalled camp of Londinium from thePomcerium or unbuilt space around.Traces of this word are found in theparish of St. Martin, formerly St. MartinPomroy.

For many centuries London remainedconfined within the bounds of the greatwall. Westminster was a separate city,Charing a country village that markedone of the resting-places of the funeralcortege of Edward' s " chere reine. " TheStrand was, as its name implies, themuddy bank of the river, which in floodtime would overflow as far as ClareMarket. No continuous street existedwithout the City boundary till Elizabeth'stime. Long Acre was an open field tillthe reign of Charles I., and little morethan a century ago a man s tood with an" optick glass" in the Leicester Fields

(To be concluded.)

(now Square), and for a halfpenny

showed passers-by the spikes of TempleBar decorated with the heads of Scottishrebels. A daily coach took three hours todrag its slow course through the mirylanes that separated Lond on from Pad-dington, and Lord Hervey, who, for hishealth's sake, lived at Kensington,deplored the fact that the impassable

roads isolated him from his Londonfriends.

STREET NAMES.

The names of the individual streets of London betray many curious mediaevalcustoms of city life. Doghouse Bar inthe City Road was the place where theLord Mayor kept his hunting pack. TheCity 'prentices and their maids madepilgrimage on the First of May to theannual feast at Mayfair. Th e official CityMaypole was erected opposite the church of St. Andrew Undershajt, and the tall shaftwas housed for the rest of the year ona ro w of hooks ove r the doorways of Shaft Alley. Goodman's Fields were theend of many a pleasant walk for the Cityyoungsters, who drank the milk fromFarmer Goodman's cows, and children of a larger growth went farther afield,nutting on Notting Hill.

T h e S o n o f a n A n a r c h i s tA T a l e of S t r a n g e M y s t e r y a n d W il d A d v e n t u r e .

By W. A. B. CLEIWENTSON, M.A .,

Author of " A Couple of Scamps," etc.

HE Firefly had just

called at Marseilles

for letters, and

the three boys

were glad to go

ashore for a

ohange and to 6ee

the great city with

its docks, quays

and shipping. At

the post office they

found a large bud

get of letters awaiting them; there were

several for Madame Costa and her husband,

one for Ronald from his mother, two for

Bobbie Brandram and one for Paolo.

Paolo's bore an Italian stamp and had been

re-directed and forwarded from England.

He tore it open in great curiosity and saw

that it was from Mariette, the anarchist

woman, who had saved him at the risk of

her life; it had been written from Naples

a few weeks previously .

" My dear Paolo," she wrote. " Though

but a few days we have known each other,

it gave me much grief to part from you with

out a word of faiewell. But it was necessary

that I should go from you in that way. I

knew I could be nothing more to you than

a friend of a day and I could not bear tosee your mother, who has a right to call you

her son. So I slipped away in the dark and,

after many narrow escapos, safely departed

from the land. I did not dare to go back to

my husband, who is a sworn anarchist and

would kill me if he found out what I had

CHAPTER XXIV.—PAOLO MEETS GIUSEPPE.

done ; so I fled to Naples, where I now live

with an aunt, who so kind ly shelters me. I

repay her as well as I can by helping her in

the little terra-cotta shop, which she in

habits. So you see I have become a respect

able woman at last; if so, it is because of

you. I have written to tell you this, though

perhaps you do not much interest yourself

in my affairs. Shall I tell yo u what made

me save you and leave the anarchists ? It

is because I had a son onee. Your mother

will understand.

" Yo u will not sec me again ; but if you

ever care to write to me, you will see myaddress ; with love from Mariette."

Paolo was much relieved to hear that

Mariette was safe and well cared for ; and

when he got back to the ship he showed the

letter to his mother, who read it several times

and even wept over it. Then it occurred to

them both that, as the yacht was to visit the

Bay of Naples, they might land there and go

and see Mariette. The idea pleased Paolo

immensely and he decided to give the poor

woman a great surprise.

So, when the yacht came to anchor in the

Bay, the three boys went ashore in the dinghy

with a message for Mariette from Paolo' s

mother, inviting her to come on board.

With some difficulty t hey found the shopkept by Marietta's aunt; it was one where

terra-cotta figures and earthenware of all

kinds were sold . Mariette was in the ac t

of showing a customer a terra-cotta bust of

a little Italian boy, when suddenly she

caught sight of Paolo.

The bust fell from her hands and was

broken into a hundred pieces on the pave

ment, while Mariette, heedless of the scolding

of her aunt and the astonishment of the by

standers, fairly flew at Paolo, crying "Ah,

it is you ! My little son, it is you ! "

"B ut I am not your son now," said Paolo,

no t meaning to be cruel, but rather em

barrassed by her affectionate greeting. " I

thought I would come over and see you, as

we happened to be in the Bay. I want to

thank you for all you did for me. And here

is a letter from mother."

Mariette explained the situation to heiaunt, who was gathering up the fragments of

the bust with a frown of annoy ance. In an

instant the good lady was all smiles and the

bust was forgotten. With many apologies

she invited the boys into an inner room

behind the shop, where she left them alone

with Mariette.

Here Mariette opened her letter and read

Madame Costa's invitation and expressions

of gratitude; but she told Paolo that, if

his mother would not think her very rude,

she would rather not come, though she felt

greatly honoured. Paolo was disappointed

and said he should bring his mother to see

he r; but Mariette shook her head and

entreated him to do no such thing.After they had talked a little longer,

Paolo said it was time they returned to the

ship, and, bidding Mariette farewell, they

started back by the way they had come.

In one of the principal streets Ronald saw

something in a shop which he fancied,



622 The "Boy's Otetn Paper.

and went inside with Bobbie to inquire its

price, leaving Paolo in the street watching

the passers-by.

Suddenly Paolo saw among the gaily

dressed throng a familiar face—it was

Giuseppe Bardi! In an instant he realised

what his presence in Naples must mean.

The anarchists coidd not know that he and

his father were there; it was Mariette

they were after !

Paolo called to Ronald; but he was so busy

trying to make the shop-keeper understand

what he wanted, that ho did not hear. It

was only a few minutes' walk to the little

terra-cotta shop, thought Paolo ; he would

run back and warn Mariette without waiting

for the other two. They would be sure to

wait for him outside the shop thinking he

had gone to make some purchases elsewhere.

So, without further delay, he left his friends

and ran back to Mariette.

There was no one else in the shop and

Mariette looked up as he approached. " Ah,

it is 3'ou again, dear " said she, delighted to

see him. " What do you want ? "

Looking round first to see that no one was

listening, Paolo said in a low voice, " I havecome back to tell you that I have seen one

of the anarchists in the town. Perhaps they

knowyouare here. Do fly before it is too late!"

Mariette said she hoped he was mistaken,

but she was much alarmed and promised to

be on her guard. Then it occurred to her

that if what Paolo had told her were true,

it was not safe for him to be in the city,

so she offered to hide him in the house and

(To be continued.)

send a message to his parents to say where he-

was. Paolo had been too much concerned

about Mariette's safety to be nervous about

himself, and till Mariette suggested th's had

not thought of his own danger ; even now

he did not feel greatly alarmed ; the long

sea voyage had braced his nerves and re

moved tho sense of haunting fear, which

had oppressed him as the residt of his adven

tures with the anarchists. He was anxious

now to rejoin his friends and return to the

ship ; so heedless of Mariette's entreaties, he

once more bade her farewell and started to

run back to tho shop, whero he had left

Ronald and Bobbie.

He had not gone far when, turninga corner,

he ran full tilt into a tall man—Giuseppe

Bardi himself.

^ *vt

D o Y o u W a n t t o P l a y f o r Y o u r C o u n t y ?A S e r i e s o f E i g h t A r t i c l e s S p e c i a l l y W r i t t e n f o r t h e " B . O . P . "

Binks Major says " Wh y not ? "

MY one ambition in my childhood days,

I confess, was to become a really

great cricketer. I had somewhat unusual

facilities bofore 1 reached my teens for

seeing some of the best batsmen and bowlers

at work ; in fact, I might truly say that I

was born and bred in an atmosphere of

cricket. Although, as I said before, my

ambition was to become first-class, and,

like many day-dreamers, I had visions of

doing all sorts of wonderful feats in the

cricket world, I scarcely hoped in my

normal moments to become one of the

chosen of England. At that time it seemed,

of course, something bordering on the

impossible.

:,It is astonishing, and perhaps a little

amusing, when one, in looking back upon

By WILFRED RHODES

(The famous Yorkshire and England Cricketer).

CHAPTER VIII.—CRICKET AS A CAREER.

his cricket career, reviews the ideas one

formed at different times.

First comes the year when you are a

member of a very junior club ; when you

feel that there can be nothing more to live

for if your captain chooses you for the first

eleven; then arrives the time when you

are asked to play for a side which is mainly

composed of men. You get through thatcreditably, and the chance of a trial with

the County Colts comes along. Surely no

honour could be greater to your mind, and

so full of possibi lities; but, strange to say,

you are not satisfied. The County Eleven is

the only thing to give you satisfaction ;

then it is a case of representing the Players

against the Gentlemen, and, last of all, to

play for England.

Quite a number of young fellows write to

me and ask if they shall follow cricket as a

career. They generally tell me of some

remarkable performances they have put up

in junior clubs, and think all they have to

do is to get into first-class company to

become great.

Now, as a matter of fact, there are large

numbers who have embarked on cricket as

a career and have bitterly regretted it,

because they have found out too late that

it was not their vocation and also that

they have neglected the more serious side

of life. It is because life is so serious that a

largo number of gentlemen who do well in

cricket at the Public Schools and the Uni

versities retire from the game early. They

cannot afford to make the pursuit of cricket

the one object of their lives, and unless they

have ample means they retire.

I would not advise any of my readers

to dream of playing County cricket untilthey have been thoroughly taught a trade

or profession and can get their OWTI living

without depending upon the game. You

may be engaged by a County club and

receive perhaps £ 2 per week as a standing

wage; but, unless you ate first-class, you

stand little chance of getting anything

but privato matches or those for the club

and ground. For these you might get a

guinea a da}', while you may earn a little by

coaching or standing umpire ; but if you

make £100 a year during the season as a

beginner you would be very lucky.

Now let me give you a short sketch of aprofessional cricketer's life, and then you

can think it over. I grant you that it is not

a description of my own success, or want

of i t; but, unhappily, it describes the career

of the average man who has not quite

reached tho very top of tho tree. We will

start this imaginary life from the time he

has to choose a trade or profession.

First of all wo have him in his youth,

when he has just finished with school, and

tho local club perhaps has obtained his

services for the Saturday afternoon fixtures.

He is not much, if at all, better in point of

skill than his fellow-members of the village

eleven, but, whilst they are perhaps at

their best, he is merely starting, has much

to learn, and, with care, may develop into

a really great player.

One pair of keen eyes has noticed, and

brought before the County authorities, the

possibilities of the youngster, and he has

received a letter from the Secretary asking

him to present himself at the County ground

on a certain day to take part in some net

practice. Such a trial might not have many

terrors for the reader, but the most con

ceited young cricketer will feel very small

at such a time; for he knows that he is

being carefully watched by men of ex

perience. At the County nets, perhaps

owing to the fact that the local wicket was

in the habit of playing a bit slowly, the

ball seems to whip along off the pitch at

a terrific pace, and has passed before he fully

realises that it has been delivered. But

the authorities understand all these diffi-



Do you Want to Tlay _for your County? 623

-CRICKET NOTES —

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culties, and do not judge a youth on his

display during tho first few minutes.A Colts' match may follow the net practice,

and, taking it for granted that the youth

is successful, ho is notified that the com

mittee have decided to offer him an engage

ment as ground bowler for the rest of the

summer season. As a rule, this sends the

youngster into tho seventh heaven of

delight. It is the first rung of the ladder,

and, if he is wise, he will endeavour to copy

every good example, putting aside any

temptation to indulge in things which are

likely to prove detrimental. Wo seo him

now with every hope of playing for the

County Eleven. Let him persevere, and

there is no knowing to what heights in the

cricket world he may eventually attain.

Let us now look at tho same young

cricketer in tho next phase of his life.

Perhaps some years have passed since

we saw him on trial at tho nets. Ho has

acquired a moro athletic figure—the

exercise has done that—and his face is

tanned by long days of fielding and batting

in the sun. He must have a name, so we

will call him Jones. He struts across tho

ground on the morning of a big match,

dressed in his flannels and pads and

carrying a couplo of bats, towards the

practice nets.

There 13 a little crowd at his heels, for

" Jones " has become a popular idol, and heis soon to be seen opening his shoulders

at the deliveries of three or four others,

but not so successful players, with a large

number of spectators standing around

watching his every movement. Yos, " Jones "

has become a great player, and the

crowd has recognised his greatness by

calling him " George." Whilst he isdriving at the nets, a voico will, perhaps,

come from tho midst of the spectators,

" Morning, George," and if the player turns

round with a smile and responds that

particular spectator feels amply repaid for

his expenditure of tho gate-money, and

becomes the centre of interest for a moment.

So much for greatness.

" Jones" is batting in the big match.

His ordinary good shots are made in silence,

for the crowd has become used to his

brilliance, and his boundary hits are

applauded to the echo. He is nearing his

century, and everybody is at tho highest

pitch of excitement. Ho gets it, and in

a quarter of an hour the newsboys

are running round the ground with their

placards bearing, " Latest cricket ! Jones

gets another century ! "

At last he is out, and the applause is

deafening as he makes his way back to tho

pavilion. Evidence of his popularity is

oven to bo seen in tho players' room, at

the door of which a journalist is waiting to

interview him, or somebody wants him

to write his name in a special autograph

book ; another man wants him to come and

stay at his country place over the week-end,

and the number of individuals who want

to stand him a drink may run into hundreds.

" Jones " is the idol of the public.Tho third phase is a short one. The days

of regular centuries are over, and, somehow,

instead of starting the batting, " Jo ne s' s"

name figures sixth or seventh on the card.

It seems to be a different side altogether,

for the older members of the team of years

ago have dropped out and younger men

have taken their places. Still younger men

are awaiting their chances, and it has

become quite an ordinary thing to hear

spectators asking one another " if Jones is

worth his place in the eleven ? " "Isn't he

getting a bit beyond it '!" and so on.

" J one s" has been left out of the side a

few times, because, so they say, the wicketsdidn't suit him so well as they suited

" So-and-So," and he has formed the habit

of looking at the list of players needed for

each match, which is pinned up in the

players' room. Still, tho worst has not

arrived yet . He begins to get left out

altogether, and then somebody approaches

him away from the world of championship

cricket. It is the beginning of the end,

and ho wonders whether his savings are

sufficient to keep him for the remainder

of his days.

The fourth and last phaso is a sorrowful

affair. Many years have passed since

" Jones" phyed his last match, and, like

nearly every other popular man, he is

forgotten. A big game is to be played on

his old County enclosure, and he journeys

up to witness it, paying his money at the

turnstile which registers his sixpence in the

same manner as it does anybody else's.

The old player walks around tho ground

and seats himself upon a hard bench to look

on at those who are fighting all his old

battles over again. Nobody looks twice at

the grizzled and lined face. He is simply

a spectator who is occupying a seat which

another man covets. Perhaps somebody

in the crowd recognises him, and tells his

nearest neighbour. " That's Jones," and

the reply hurts more than anything." Who is Jones ? What ! One of the

old players ? Humph ! a bit old-fashioned

in his ideas, I expect. Those old fogies

always think they know more about the

game than anybody else. By Jove ! there's

a drive for you . Bravo ! bravo ! "

It must not be imagined that I have any

particular o ld cricketer in my mind' s eye.

I have not. These are merely observations

I have made during my very happy cricket

career, and, after all, one cannot expect

even the greatest players to remain long in

tho memory of the public . Each man has

his innings, and when he is dismissed ho

must abide by the decision of the umpire

and retire.

Add to Jones's misery tho fact that he has

neglected to learn any trade, that his best

years are gone, and that tho workhouse

looms large in the distance, and then you

have an idea of what many hundreds of

young fellows have done for themselves.

Don't imagine I am running down the

game of cricket . Far from it ; but I do

implore a'l those who would adopt it as a

profession to, first of all, have something

else to fall back upon.

And now my task is ended.



Documents

Boys Own Paper June 28, 1913