B

Still his vanity blinded him to the true import of her words. She had said she never could mix with his new friends; well, it was but proper modesty for her to say that. He would reassure her on that score, and all would be well yet.

'My dear Nan, I think you are talking a little hastily. No doubt you would feel a little awkward among the London ladies at first, but that would soon pass away. And Mrs Judson promised me to chaperon you a bit, and '

'I wish to hear nothing more, sir, about Mrs Judson,' she answered curtly.

I

'Well, Nan, she's a good friend of yours. told her all about our little affair. She said of course it would be a great sacrifice on my part; but she applauded my intention of acting honourably towards you, even although you were only an innkeeper's daughter. Of course, it may be two or three years before I'

'Stop!' she cried, rising to her feet, her lips quivering and her cheeks as pale as death-stop, sir! I did not send for you here to insult me. Surely I have spoken plainly enough; but your head is so stuffed with selfish vanity, you cannot comprehend me. Our engagement is at an end. Here are all your letters and presents! You'll return mine when you get to London.-Now, go!'

As she said the last words, she drew herself up to her full height and pointed to the door. The action was perhaps a little theatrical; but when he looked at her white set face and flashing eyes, he saw plainly enough that she was acting no part. He fancied he had never seen her looking so handsome before; and he felt a sinking at his heart at the thought of having by his foolish letters and talk lost for ever this woman. 'You-you-are-angry just now, Nan. Do take time to'

'Go!' she repeated firmly, her hand still pointing to the door. Her face was marble in its inflexibility; he knew his doom was sealed. Making a poor show of indifferent self-possession, he rose and quitted the room.

When he was fairly gone, Nan broke down entirely. Shutting herself up in her bedroom, she made use of the safety-valve provided by nature for her sex, and had a thoroughly good cry. Next morning, she was calm and selfpossessed, although her eyes were red and heavy fooking. Her cherished idol had crumbled into dust; and it became her, she thought, as a prudent damsel to sweep away the smallest trace of it from her heart.

LONDON CHARITY ORGANISATION
SOCIETY.

THE Society for Organising Charitable Relief and Repressing Mendicity, or, as it is popularly called, the Charity Organisation Society, has for its object the scientific supervision of charity dispensation, in the deep-rooted conviction that slovenly and indiscriminate almsgiving is a most pernicious bane to society, and calculated to foster rather than diminish indigence. Personal inquiry is the keynote of the Society's mode of operation. Trained, experienced, and apt persons- both honorary and paid-exhaustively investigate all cases of indigence brought under the Society's

notice. In each instance, one important point is established at the outset of the investigation, namely, whether the individual concerned must of necessity-through physical or other disability -habitually depend for sustenance upon the resources of others, or whether he or she possesses the latent means of self-support, which may be brought into action-under the fostering influence of personal guidance in moral and material things -after the temporary condition of poverty has been met by the judicious application of charity. Cases of the former description are relegated to the action of the poor-law-therein lying its true function; cases of the latter kind are taken in: hand by the Society. But its action is not that of an individual charitable institution concerned merely with the distribution of its own resources. It acts as an intermediary between those who need charity and those who are anxious to devote money to charitable purposes. Hence, in the discharge of its functions, it places itself in connection both with benevolent individuals and benevolent bodies, seeking to secure the best relief for the different cases of destitution which come under its notice and at the same time to prevent overlapping' in charity dispensation. Where, however, it finds that a case of destitution cannot effectively be relieved from other sources, the Society brings its own funds into requisition. As to its function of 'repressing mendicity,' this it discharges by promoting the detection and prosecution of impostors.

And now for a word or two about the mechanism, if we may so call it, of the Society. The organisation consists of a federation of forty district committees-one or more being established in each of the poor-law divisions of London—and of a Central Council, at which every committee is represented. The committees comprise, where it is possible, ministers of religion, guardians of the poor, and representatives of the principal local charities. Their function is to receive, investigate, and deal, according to the general principles of the Society, with all cases of alleged want or distress referred to them; and each is intended to form a common meeting-placea centre of information and charitable workfor persons in the district desirous of benefiting the poor. The Central Council supervises besides endeavouring to strengthen and consolidate the work of the district committees, taking into consideration, as well, all questions of principle and all matters relating to the general action of the Society. Of course the scene of the Society's main operations is the metropolitan poor-law district; but it is glad to give general assistance, by sending information to agencies outside that area. We may add that the example set by the Society has given birth to many foreign and provincial organisations of identical aims and

action.

It may be interesting to glance briefly at the broad method of investigation pursued by the inquiry officers-be they paid or honoraryof the Society. In treating a family, then, the following facts are in the first place arrived at: The ages of the parents; the amount of their earnings at the time of application and previously; the cause of their leaving their last employment; the ages of their children; and whether those children go to school (and if so,

Oct. 23, 1886.]

where)-or, if they are employed, what they earn. The previous addresses, with the references of the family, are next learned; and it is ascertained whether they belong to a club or have relatives who ought to assist them. Then inquiry is made as to whether the family have any debts hanging over them; what their rent is; how they are obtaining a living at the time of application; and, finally, how they think they can be thoroughly helped. Subsequently, it is the inquiry officer's duty, among other things, to ascertain for himself the cause of the family's distress, verifying the information they have supplied to him; to search out the best mode of helping; to familiarise himself with the character of the family, and find on whom, if its natural head be weak or incompetent, reliance can be placed to re-establish the family fortunes; and, lastly, to settle what means of future thrift and self-support can be fostered

into life.

Did space permit, we should like to give some characteristic examples of instances where the indigent have been raised to a state of independence by the well-advised action of the Society, and tell how the workhouse itself has been made to yield material with which to work so happy a transformation. Some reference, too, would be justified to the numerous special questions in connection with which the Society has seen cause to take action. But we have said enough perhaps to effect our immediate purpose and indicate the nature of the Society and the scope of its operations. A considerable literature has grown around the Charity Organisation Society, and this is accessible to all who visit the central office of the institution, 15 Buckingham Street, Adelphi, London, whither all communications to the Secretary, Mr C. L. Loch, should be addressed.

THE DENSCHMAN'S HAD.
A LEGEND OF SHETLAND.

FROM Widwick to Hermaness the cliffs rise steep and high from a deep ocean, so deep that a large ship might float alongside of the crags without danger of scraping her keel. What would be the fate of such a vessel, if she were carried by the might of that sea against that iron wall, I leave you to imagine. The rocks are broken all along their range by fissures and caves, inaccessible from the land, and scarcely approachable from the sea. He is a bold voyager who brings even a boat to thread the "baas' and 'stacks'--submerged rocks and needle-crags -which guard the way to those haunts of seafowl and seals. One of the caves is named the Denschman's Had. I ought to explain that a 'had' means the den of a wild beast, his stronghold; and 'Denschman' is 'Dane.'

In old days, Shetland (or Hialtland) was nothing more than a 'had' of vikinger, those pirates of the North who have so often been confounded with the noble sea-kings of Scandinavia; but while the islands belonged to Norway, their inhabitants were under powerful protection, and suffered little inconvenience from the uses to which the sea-rovers turned the sheltered voes and secluded islets. It was only when Scottish rule came in that the vikinger

of Norway and Denmark turned their weapons against their brother-Norsemen of the Shetland Isles. During the times of the Stuarts, Scotland had enough to do to look after itself, far less to extend protection to an outlying dependency that was more plague than profit. Indeed, the Scottish kings and nobles seem to have regarded Hialtland as fair game, and robbed and oppressed the people after as cruel a method as that of the northern pirates. Between the two, those islands had a hot time of it; and the islanders, once a prosperous community, sank into poverty and hopeless serfdom.

About the time of Mary Stuart, the isle of Unst was harassed by a noted viking whose name and lineage were unknown. He and his daring crew were believed to be Danes, and his swift barque-appropriately named the Erne

and his stalwart person were familiar to the affrighted eyes of the islanders. When the Denschman swooped upon the isle, its inhabitants fled to the hills and rocks, leaving their homes as spoil for the lawless rover. What else could they do? The enemy were strong, reckless, brave, well armed and well disciplined. The islanders, groaning and disheartened under the yoke of an alien power, were at the mercy of might, and could neither resist nor make treaty; so the Denschman came and went like the fierce bird of prey whose name his vessel bore, and no man dared oppose him.

One midsummer evening, a westerly squall arose which sent the fishing-boats flying to the shelter of their voes and vicks. Those storms rise and fall with tropical rapidity and violence. Six hours after it was at its height, the wind had fallen to an ordinary fresh breeze, the sky was smiling as before, and only the wrathful surf, rolling white and broken under the influence of a changing tide, remained to tell of the tempest. All the boats had returned in safety, and there should have been rejoicing in Unst; but instead, men frowned and women trembled, for the fishers had brought news that the sail had been seen hovering beyond the holms the westerly wind; he would be on the Westing of Gloup; he was coming upon the wings of Bicht ere long. There was no landing-place available-with such a heavy sea-on that side of the island; but the Denschman knew what he was about, doubtless. He would scud to the nor'❜ard, fly round the Flugga skerries and Skau, would lay-to, and bide his time till dusk drew down; then he would alight on the eastern shore, and work his wild will upon the defenceless isle. Such had been his tactics aforetime. The people ran to the high lands of Vaalafiel and Patester to mark the Denschman's course, for where he meant to land, there they must not be.

Denschman was on the coast: his well-known

Soon the Erne was descried emerging from a mist of spindrift, and bearing swiftly towards Unst, heading straight for the isle, and notas the folk had supposed-skirting the coast. Did the vikinger mean to bring their vessel to harbour among those crags, where the sea was in such a turmoil? Was the Erne a demon-ship that could dare everything and perform such a feat? On he came right before the wind with

a following tide; but when well in the Westing Bicht, some experienced seamen affirmed that there must be something wrong aboard, for the Erne did not rise on the waves with its usual buoyancy; he seemed to plunge madly forward, as if in fierce conflict with the ocean he had ruled so long. By-and-by it was seen that the vessel laboured more and more, yet carried full sail, as if on speed depended salvation.

'I would not say but he's sprung a leak, or the like,' said an old udaller among the onlookers. Who but a madman would bring a ship in-shore like yon, if all was taut aboard!'

"That is so,' remarked a seaman. 'Without doubt, he's in straits; and he's going to try to beach on the Aire of Widwick. It's his only chance, and a poor one.'

'Pray the powers he may not make the Aire,' replied the old man; and I'm thinking,' he added, that the powers will hear us. There is something fatal amiss with that evil one. See yon! He's not obeying his helm; he's just driving with wind and tide. He's in a mighty strait, praise the Lord!'

If he misses the Aire, he'll go in shallmillens [the fragments of eggshell] upon the baas of Flübersgerdie,' said a fisherman, with a grim smile; and all cried out: 'Pray the powers it may be so !'

As if the powers thus invoked were ready to prove their immediate willingness to answer the cry of the oppressed, the wind veered more to the west, and carried the disabled ship against the holm of Widwick, a small islet which lies off the creek, and wards from it the full force of the North Atlantic. If the Erne had stranded on the holm, some of his crew might have effected a landing there; but that was not the end of the viking's barque; she reeled back from the holm with a gash in her side that was a death-wound indeed, and drifted onwards once more. Now, would she gain the creek? No! In a few moments the Erne was carried past the little harbour, where lay the sole chance of deliverance, and then crashed among the rocks of Flübersgerdie.

'Praise to the powers that are above all!' cried the men of Unst, and even gentle-hearted women rejoiced as the Denschman, barque and crew, disappeared among the breakers.

The people returned to their homes, happy in the thought that the rocks of Fatherland had proved able protectors, and that Unst was for ever rid of its most dreaded foe.

Two days and two nights passed. No trace of the storm was left. A boat put off from Widwick with the intention of saving such portions of the Erne as would certainly be drifting among the skerries near Flübersgerdie. The men could tell by the state of the tides and the wind exactly where the wreckage was to be found, and they made for the spot, never doubting that some spoil would be there to reward them. As they approached the submerged reef where the Erne finished her career, the skipper, alluding to the dreaded Denschman, said: "Well did he deserve what he met here! Think our isle would give him foothold!—our isle, that he has harried this ten year and more! No, no!'

Scarcely were the words spoken, when one of

the fishermen called out excitedly: 'Lord be about us, men, what's yon?'-and he pointed to a cave situated in the cliff opposite the reef.

All gazed, and were struck dumb, for, on a ledge within the mouth of the helyer (cave) stood a man--the man! the Denschman, alive, stalwart, terrible as ever, and brandishing his sword, as if defying mortal to molest him.

The boat was instantly backed, and when the islanders had put what they considered a safe distance between themselves and their dreaded foeman, the men consulted together. Should they make a bold attack? The Denschman was alone; they were six in number. Surely, they could overpower him, tired and despairing as he must be. Yes. But one, or even two of their number were likely to fall before his sword ere he could be conquered. Who was patriot enough to lead such dire attack?' No one of that crew! Then should they leave him to die of exhaustion, as he must ere long? There was no way of escape. The lofty precipice overhung the cave, precluding any scheme of climbing upwards; on either side, the aiguille crags rose from a seething depth of sea; in front, a reef of sunken rocks covered with fretful surf, dared the bravest swimmer that ever breasted waves to pass alive.

The Denschman had evidently reached his present refuge by aid of a large plank belonging to the Erne, which still floated near the cave. When they had recovered every vestige of the wreck which floated, he could not escape. It was beyond the power of man to leave that cave unaided from without. Help must come from ropes lowered from the land above, or boats brought to the cave. And who was there in Unst would bring rope or boat to aid the Denschman? None!

'Let him die the death!' said the men whose homes the viking had devastated. So they ventured nearer, and removed every floating spar or plank, then returned to Widwick; and it was told in the isle that the Denschman had survived his barque and crew only to meet a more terrible death. No man pitied him; no man dreamt of giving him succour. Those were days when the gentler feelings had little part in men's warfare, and no red cross of healing followed battle ensigns to the field of fight.

Next day, a number of boats put off, that men might feast their eyes on the dead or dying viking; and many saw him. That day, he was seated on the ledge of rock glowering at them; but he made no sign of either submission or defiance. 'He grows weak,' they said, and wondered that even the Denschman's tough and giant frame had so long withstood the exposure and starvation.

A third time the islanders sought the rocks of Flübersgerdie and saw the pirate chief as before. Then they began to fear, and to say that he must be allied to potent powers of evil; for how, otherwise, could he have survived there so long? The interior of the helyer could be seen from a little distance: no food or clothing had been saved from the wreck to be secreted there. prisoner was always seen sitting on the cold bare ledge where he had been first discovered, and the people were satisfied that the cave held no means of sustenance.

The