as a policeman; and about two o'clock in the afternoon, came near the place mentioned. I left my horse at the nearest roadside Hotel,' sauntered to the bridge, and leaning over the rail with no very distinct notion of how I was going to act, waited for my man, with what coolness I could muster. Two hours had passed; the sun was beginning to go down; and I was just preparing to console myself with the notion that the man had got wind of our intention, and gone by another route, when I became aware of the approach of a solitary pedestrian. As he came nearer, I ran over the description of the man I wanted-which I had learned by heart and at once concluded that this was the individual. He was a tall, powerful, uncompromising-looking fellow of about five-and-forty, muscular enough to have lifted me up and thrown me over the bridge into the shining water beneath. I commenced to walk over the bridge as the man approached it-passed him slowly, and felt sure it was the man. After going two or three yards, I turned back. Hearing my step, the purloiner of state documents turned round. 'Well, mate, what is it?' 'Can you oblige me with a pipe of 'baccy?' I asked. 'Oh! yes;' handing me his pouch.-'What are you doing about here? You don't look overbrisk. Broke?' 'Pretty nearly,' I replied. 'New arrival, I suppose?' 'Almost.' 'Ah! there are too many carpet-knights flooding Melbourne. Came out expecting to make a pile, got disappointed, and don't like to work for your grub, eh?-Put a screw of tobacco in your pocket-you'll find it pleasant company on the road.' I nearly emptied the pouch, and handed it back; and as the owner put out his hand for it, I slipped my foot behind his heel and pushed him. He tripped and fell splendidly. I was pretty quick in wrestling, and I took hold of the man's throat with my left hand, put my knees on his chest, and with my right hand felt in the breastpocket of his coat. He struggled violently, but I thought I should succeed. I got my hands on some papers; but as I was drawing them from the pocket, the ruffian got hold of my right kneecap with his left hand, and gave it such a terrible wrench, that I believed he had dislocated the joint. Then feeling my hold relax, he suddenly hoisted himself with his right hand, sprang up, caught hold of my wrists, and hurried me to the bridge. Holding me thus, in an iron grip, and glaring fiercely at me, he said: 'I see your game: there's only one way of dealing with the police. Dead men tell no tales; so it's over you're going, youngster.' Suiting his action to the word, he released my hands, and in the same instant grasped me firmly and hoisted me. My last chance seemed to lie in an old twist I had learned at college. As the man raised me, I placed my feet on the brickwork of the bridge, pushed myself back with all my strength, jerked a little forward, lowered my head, and then fairly twisted under my captor's arm from left to right. My school experience had saved my life; for the man let go his hold with a cry of pain, and, quick as thought, I sprang on him. 'It's all right, old fellow; take the papers and read them.' But in the mad excitement of the moment, and remembering my mission, I thought this surrender was only a ruse on the part of the ruffian. He sat down on the road in a most undignified fashion, and handed me the papers. The first one that met my gaze was a headed piece of policeoffice paper, on which was written, 'This is your test for entering the force;' and was signed by the Superintendent. 'Well, young man,' said mine enemy, 'you have passed the last exam.-with honours. You have nearly broken my wrist. But my horse is at the first roadside hotel. If you'll come with me I'll have a drink with you, and get some cold lotion for this sprain. I believe it will be a case of splints and sick leave; but you have done your work well. Bother the arm-how it aches!' (So did my knee.) The report was satisfactory, and I was appointed permanently. Mr Superintendent's test caused me to be sent on various duties which led me into many rough experiences; but I never believed myself to be so near death as when I was deciding my future with my superior officer. LAMENT OF ELLEN ON THE DEATH OF THE tears that from mine eyelids find their way, Ill-fated youth! consigned to early grave, Ere manhood's bloom had time to deck thy years; All unavailing now for me to lave The turf that hides thee with my burning tears! In vain they try to chide me of my woe; Remembrance holds thee ever to my view; Their sympathies but urge my sorrow's flow, And wake the anguish of my breast anew. Each favourite scene where we were wont to stray, And seems to mourn the loss of love and thee. The stream that rippled on with gladdening song, Earth has no charms to bind me to it now; Its joys and sorrows have no part in me, Since Death has laid his hand upon thy brow, And chilled the spirit that woke life in thee. The cheering light of Hope illumes my soul, T. W. P. Printed and Published by W. & R. CHAMBERS, 47 Pater. noster Row, LONDON, and 339 High Street, EDINBURGH. All Rights Reserved. THE HOME OF A NATURALIST. (IN MEMORIAM.) Ir was a plain old building, and small. It resembled a Scottish farmhouse; and the fields which surrounded it, and the steading, showed that its master was somewhat of a farmer. He had scientific theories regarding agriculture, which he was always putting to practical test. Some succeeded beyond his expectations, others failed; not because Science 'would not work,' but because experiments done on so small a scale cannot pay Science; and then Ignorance, in the form of money-grubbing practical farmers, laughed at the naturalist and his theories. The house stood on a gentle slope, overlooking one of those land-locked fiords which characterise the Shetland Isles. Behind, rose a tiny range of hills, whose varied peaks resemble those of the Cheviots. The house was, as I said, small and unpretending, more so than other houses in the place; but nevertheless, a stranger would have his attention attracted to it before all others, because its lawn and garden were surrounded by more than a hundred species of shrubs and trees. In a land altogether treeless, this feature becomes at once a striking and most pleasing one. Every tree was planted by the naturalist himself, with what cost and labour was known to him only. He watched over their growth with the fostering care of a parent, and thought the time and money he spent upon his little plantation well spent. When asked by the sneering money-grubbers: Will that sort of thing make the pot boil?' he replied, smiling: 'Certainly; nothing better than sticks for making the fire burn and the pot boil !' PRICE 14d pecker, the wren and the hedge-accentor—once but rarely seen, and then only as solitary wanderers-now colonised the shrubbery. The crossbill, the rose-coloured pastor, the fieldfare, the mealy redpole, redstart, linnet, and blackbird, became familiar visitors. The naturalist's heart rejoiced. But there was one serious drawback to his delightful contemplation of the feathered woodfolk who had so graciously lighted among his greenery. If he loved birds, he also loved beasts, and of all beasts, a cat was the delight of his soul. Now, cats, like naturalists, take intense pleasure in crouching in quiet corners to watch the motions of winged creatures. To be sure, the quadruped's motive for so doing is different from that of the man, and the result is tragically different too. It was the naturalist's misfortune to see often a mangled minnesinger borne past him by the lithe grimalkin that daily sat, sleek and gentle, upon his shoulder while he dined. She shared his meals, and had not the excuse of hunger for her cruelty. He kept more than one cat, and the havoc wrought by those housetigers among the birds was too terrible. I suppose their master received compensation in the interesting indoor study which his felines afforded. He was always ready to excuse the cats on the plea that it is their nature to;' but he did not fail to chastise them at the same time; and his rebuking was not without effect upon some of these bird-fanciers. More than once, The house-pets knew, one and all, that the dinner-bell was a call to meals, and would flock from various parts of the house or fields to the dining-room door and window. Some were allowed to come into the room. a feminine chorus of remonstrance was raised by But what was his joy to find, as the years the ladies of the family, and the result was temwent past, and his trees became acclimatised, that porary banishment of the animals at meal-times; Woodland birds were attracted by them, and but the edict was seldom carried into force for more finding both shelter and food, took up their than a week, as even those who had been loudest abode among the kindly branches. Nor did in requiring their absence, missed their dependents the birds come merely as stray visitors, but as so much, that tacit permission for their recall was actual residenters. The chaffinch and wood-given. A tax was levied upon every plate and dish before it left the table, a process which the interested animals naturally regarded as the great event of the hour. All dry crusts and small slices of bread went into the naturalist's pockets; and what pockets they were! They bulged out on each side; and their owner, when wandering about his fields, was usually attended by a motley throng of those who knew well what those pockets contained. Running about his feet after the manner of Skye terriers was Rough, who had lost one eye, and never could bear the smallest allusion to his misfortune. Dogs do not parade their infirmities, nor will their self-respect permit them to claim either charity or indulgence because of misfortune. One or two cats stealthily kept pace with their master's slow step, seemingly unconcerned in all around, but very wide awake internally. An ox with its large tender eyes would appeal for a caress; while a pony would be shoving its frowzy brow against its master's shoulder, munching crusts with great satisfaction. Dickhalyer, a splendid gamecock, usually stalked dignifiedly by the naturalist's side, as one who thought, and in his own way said: 'You and I are reasoning beings, and must set an example of decorum to the lower animals.' A flock of pigeons would hover over his head, sometimes alighting on any available part of his person. A hooded crow, in his handsome gentlemanly uniform of black and gray, accompanied the procession, taking notes. Some ducks would join it at intervals, though these not unfrequently quarrelled with the cats. Even gulls and cormorants occasionally helped to swell the group. Benjamin, slight and pretty, with large thoughtful eyes, and the overwise ways of a boy whose life is chiefly spent among grown-up people, would ofttimes slip his wee hand into that of the naturalist, whose mind was never so absent that it could not be recalled by that touch. Then what talks they would have, to be sure! Not unfrequently an elfish girl, with thin pale face and restless gait, would add herself to the group, startling the more refined creatures by her abrupt motions, startling her father yet more by her metaphysical ideas upon every subject that ever stirred the thoughts of a mere human being. On fine summer days, the naturalist would often effect a disappearance by simply stretching himself at full length in a field of grass-tall rye-grass, where the cornerake delighted to nest, and over which the skylark loved to pour his melody. Very different the harsh cry of the one to the song of the other; yet the naturalist loved the voices of both, and would spend hours in their haunts. One might almost have believed that he slept, so motionless he lay; but the girl afore mentioned would at times invade his solitude, and she always found him gazing straight into the sky, or watching the movements of some insect creeping among the surrounding grasses. If happily he were 'i' the vein,' he would tell her what strange cloudworlds he saw, and how they were peopled by the creatures of his imagination; and then his fancy would carry her beyond cloudland into the Unseen-almost, she thought, into the presence of the Creator; for Nature's God, he said, was best seen and known through His works. An insect losing its way, and hurriedly creeping over his dress, would prompt some marvellous tale of the scientific world-tales that have all the charm of truth to recommend them. He always affirmed that insects were among the most in the study of them. He would lay a beetle, intelligent creatures in the world. He delighted or caterpillar, or earwig on his hand, and point out its beauties, until his girl would as soon have thought of shrinking from a flower as from a creeping thing. Spiders were great favourites; bees and ants a never-failing source of amusement. During the summer months, his home in Ultima Thule was frequently visited by wandering scientists,' who were always heartily welcomed, and given every assistance in his power. He was at home on almost every branch of science, although he modestly prefaced any information he had to give with a disclaimer. Being an expert linguist, he could always converse with foreigners in their own tongue. It was amusing to observe the varied expression of different sorts of travellers when they were first introduced to his parlour. The snob looked unutterable disgust; the mere tourist stared his wonder and took notes; the man of science was full of curiosity; the lady rather frightened. It was a curious place, certainly. Over the mantel-piece hung useless flintlock fowling-pieces that had seen service in their day; also a variety of weapons in use among savage tribes; though how boomerang, tomahawk, lance, or arrow-tube got there, their owner only could tell. Among these were bunches of quills; clusters of pony-hair, that were very suggestive in such company, of scalp-locks; some queer stones, fossils, and pretty shells. On the mantelpiece itself were books of every description, rising tier on tier, all well thumbed, yet frequently covered with dust, which had gathered there not by the usual mode, but through his experiments upon the coal and ashes in the grate. He had theories about fuel as well as about everything else; and some of the 'notions' which were thought 'so queer,' are now being recog nised as full of practical wisdom. The sideboard was crowded with medicine bottles and the chemical apparatus of his profession. The room, in truth, looked a picture of disorder, but in reality was not so, for its presiding genius knew the exact position of each book and bottle. It was only when others intruded themselves and belongings, that the reign of chaos began. Besides that parlour, where he usually sat, the naturalist possessed what his children called a den. A den it truly was. Oh, the marvels which came out of that place, and the curiosities and useful articles which disappeared into its depths! There is a tradition in the family that once the piled-up heaps were overturned, and a plough was discovered which had been amissing for years. In one corner of this den there hung a skeleton, which acted as a very effectual bugbear to over-curious children and servants. Öne shelf contained medicine bottles out of number, with brown-paper parcels, bones, and boxes. One parcel contained a portion of skin which had once covered the body of Burke the murderer, who had been dissected in Edinburgh by the naturalist along with other young medicals. Beside that gruesome relic lay a Journal petrified stone from Mount Sinai. In a corner by itself lay a store of tiny shoes the wee worn-out things which his little ones had shed. Some of the small feet which had pushed through the leather were lying still enough, after a brief time of restless trotting up and down; and the father hoarded these memorials of feet that were not meant to walk this earth. but he admitted that even when his love of sport was very great, he always had pangs of conscience after the game was bagged; and when the hunter's zeal was strongest, he never took the life of bird or beast without a good reason for so doing. In later days, he never used a gun. More than once, he had an old fowling-piece repaired, or he bought a new one, and hinted to his boys that Somewhere in the mysterious space in the roof he meant to show them he could shoot still; but was stored for some years a collection of stuffed he never fired a shot. The girl, who was always animals, the gifts of well-known naturalists. seeking from him the why and the wherefore These creatures were periodically put out on for things seen and unseen, wondered, when she the lawn to air; and a queer sensation they heard him tell of his youthful exploits with the produced there. The domestic animals took gun, why he had lost that love of sport. The Hight, all except the dogs, which showed fight wondering at last shaped itself into a question; at first; but soon learned that the fierce, wild and she never forgot the look of anguish which beasts had long since ceased to claw. Unfortu- swiftly crossed his face as, turning from her, he nately, the small house, crowded with children said: 'You'll learn the reason when you are older, and other live dependents, had but sorry accom- my bairn.' She had often heard the sorrowful modation for the stuffed beasts, which in course tale of a brother lost when she was little more of time began to look mangy to a degree. At than a baby. He had died through the carelesslast, some wise person suggested that the col-ness of a companion, who had placed a loaded gun lection was decidedly 'bad for people,' and a across the thwarts of a boat, and some one stepping bonfire was made of it. Armadillo, sloth, tiger, on the lock, sent the charge through the poor bear, and bison, surmounted by a boa-constrictor youth's head-a most promising young man, -whose internal arrangement of arsenical soaped scarcely past his majority. He had all his father's stuffing had been leaking all about the place for passionate love of natural science, and something months made a grand pyre, round which the more than his father's power of turning his genius dogs and bairns bounced delightedly. to the uses of every-day life. A son to make any parent's heart glad-gentle-tempered, eloquent, persevering, brave, good. An author on Botany at fifteen, a Professor of the same at twenty, who can wonder that from the time he met so hard a fate, and was buried far from his home and kindred, that his father's sensitive nature shrank from the use of that weapon which had wrought such woe! The girl wondered no more; and her surmise was correct. One especial book over which the children pored until the pictures became as familiar to their eyes as each other's faces, was Bewick's British Birds. The dear old volume, 'sair worn,' is now a cherished heirloom. The naturalist's home was visited by many of our great men. His brother the Laird also opened his door at all times to the stranger; and thus began friendships which were lifelong with many of the lights of the scientific world. It must have been a great pleasure to some of those men to hide, as it were, from the busy world for a short time in that sweet, wild, ocean-girdled bit of land. There they could prosecute the study of Nature without the distracting cares which surround less isolated homes. It must also have surprised them to find an intellect like his 'buried' in such a corner of the earth. Often he was asked why he chose to live there. He might have earned fame and wealth elsewhere, for he was a skilful physician, as well as a naturalist second to few; but fame and wealth were not the objects of his ambition. Far dearer to him the facilities which Shetland offered for the contemplation of Nature and her many marvels. In the home of his choice, which was also the home of his birth, he could exercise a freedom of action such as he could enjoy nowhere else in Britain. He could wrap himself in his black Spanish cloak, or any sort of dress he pleased, and not be called odd. He could shut himself up, and refuse to be disturbed, without offending some powerful neighbour or patron. He could ride his pony everywhere, carry his researches where he pleased without meeting 4 warning to trespassers stuck up by the way. In short, he preferred a natural happy mode of life to an artificial one, attended by earthly honour, dogged by earthly care; and so he remained in the little paradise he had created for himself. When a young man, he was a keen sportsman; con It must not be supposed that though the naturalist spent much time in the calm templation of Nature, that therefore his life was one of pleasure and ease. The work of a country doctor made his life no idle dream. Night and day he was at the service of the fisher population, who loved him for the skill he bestowed upon them, and yet more for the sympathy he showed in all their doings. Many a rare trophy drawn from the depths of ocean, and preserved by the men, not because they saw any value in a bit of coral or a queer shell, but because they knew that the Doctor will be glad o' the like'-many a splendid dish of fish, many a well-knitted pair of socks or gloves, showed that his kindness was fully appreciated by his poor patients. Yet, with all his manifold duties, he found time to study many books. He delighted in works of travel; and affirmed that Gordon Cumming's adventures would be found to be nearer truth than the world generally supposed. Later travellers have confirmed what poor Gordon Cumming said. The first thing he did when coming down in the morning was to read and meditate over a chapter in the Bible. After that, he read a Dictionary! His children used to wonder how he could possibly find interest in so dry a book. No doubt it was the study of the Bible and Dictionary which made him speak and write such pure, true, and elegant English. At breakfast, the four-footed pets came in with the children, and all received a morsel of some dainty from the naturalist's plate. Breakfast was a meal over which he delighted to linger, and only the apparition of some factotum whose patience was short-lived, saying, 'If ye please, sir, I'm waiting for,' &c. brought the meal to an end. Although his manner was always grave, almost to severity, he loved to see others happy; and his children have no brighter recollections than of the long winter evenings, when he made his sweettoned violin breathe such melody as only a master's hand can evoke from any instrument. Often he merely played dance-music, that the young people might enjoy what he called healthful recreation; but oftener they sat spell-bound while he played plaintive Scotch airs, stirring pibrochs, grand marches, soul-melting melodies, sacred music. Weber's Last Waltz was one of his favourite airs. His domestic life had been deeply tinged by sorrow; but the great intellect, and yet greater heart, bore him through all, so that he retained in old age all the fresh feelings of younger days. His interest in the progress of science was as keen after he had seen fourscore as it had ever been; and although the number of his pets had decreased, they were not the less cherished when life became a vague dream of the past. I went not long ago to the Naturalist's Home, to look again upon the place where he had lived and laboured, the spot of all others indissolubly associated with him, where he has left a neverdying memory. There were many changes about the old place, though rock and hill and northern sea change not, nor does the heaven above them; nor indeed did it seem as if the naturalist himself were dead, for wherever I went, I seemed to see and hear him. The skylark was singing over his fields, and the corncrake uttered its quaint complaining among the grass, just as they did years agone when he lay and listened to them. But there were no interesting pets about the house-if we omit his grandchildren-only the necessary sheep-dog, cat, horse, fowl-characterless on the whole, because the wonderful tact of one who understood the nature of bird and beast, was not there to evoke their reason, as it had done that of their predecessors. Some of the trees which he had fostered had grown a good deal, and had thrust their branches across the paths he had trodden smooth when wandering up and down, with bowed head, pondering over the mysteries of creation. I knew my way by those paths to the graves of his household; and I found his resting-place, quiet and solemn, under the shadow of his own trees, with birds he had loved piping on every spray, with no sound of the busy world within reach. He rests there as he wished, beside the Love of fifty years. As I thought of the long life which had found refuge from care, and comfort for sorrow, in that creation which was given by its Maker for the use of man, I recalled some lines by Longfellow, which seemed most appropriate to such reflections: He wandered away and away 'Come wander with me,' she said, 'Unto regions yet untrod; And read what is still unread In the manuscripts of God.' And whenever the way seemed long, She would sing a more wonderful song, Then bending over that grave, I remembered his words: 'God's book of Nature is the best book I know, and the most perfect revelation of His Fatherhood that can be desired. The man who can study Nature and not see a Father's love, care, wisdom, and direction in it, must be a man with intellect undeveloped.' VALENTINE STRANGE. A STORY OF THE PRIMROSE WAY. CHAPTER IV. CONTINUED.-A FURNISHED ROOM FOR A SINGLE GENTLEMAN. Mr BEHOLD Hiram, two days later, after an interview favourably conducted, and after all due formalities achieved, invested with badge and satchel, and in fullness of time assuming his place as conductor. On his first journey, he was content to repeat the hoarse cries of the driver. On the second journey, he was familiar with his duties. Before the day was done, he had merged his own notions of the English language in the waters of oblivion, and cried 'Benk! Benk! Benk!' or 'Whitecheppel!' like an omnibus conductor to the manner born. He appeared by-and-by in a tall white hat and a scarf of vivid blue and scarlet, and became a man of mark. The regular travellers upon his route began to know him, and he throve and grew immensely popular. It was noticed at the office at which he paid in his money that the receipts of the vehicle he superintended had amazingly increased, and the authorities put their own construction upon that fact. Search was incorruptibly honest and scrupulously careful. Mr Search was neat and smart in personal appearance, and had indeed beshunned the intoxicating cup, was always up come something of a dandy. Mr Search to his work, always good-humoured, yet never without his quaint repartee when needed— could indeed sting upon occasion-in short, he became a most respected member of a not too respected or respectable body. That eminent patter vocalist, The Great Blower, advertised as the author, composer, and only singer of The Leary Cove, heard of Hiram, travelled many stages by omnibus in order to study him, and appeared at the Megatherium Concert Hall as the author, composer, and only singer of The Yankee Toff, with an imitation of Hiram, which raised him to a very pinnacle of fame amongst the conductors of his day. The ditty of the Great Blower became popular, and Hiram heard it from many barrel-organs. Street youths whistled it and shouted it; nightly choruses with applausive accompaniment of hand and foot, were sung to it at the Megatherium Concert Hall, and Hiram became a celebrity. 'I reckon,' Hiram would say to himself, in contemplation of this and other matters, as he |