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f [". EIGHTS RESEKVBD. ] ;¡Õy LASS I OR I THE STRANGE STORY OF VIOLET I. BY I MARION WARD. H i* Ftf)T Author 01 Loves Thorny Path, Fair Lady." &c. CHAPTER XVL I ACCUSED OF THEFT. I The letter which had so raised Violet Mason's hopes was not, in the Least like that other letter which lured her to Grange End some weeks before, though it must have been from someone well acquainted with her movements, since it was addressed to her new lodging-, 99, Hyatt's Row. "My doar Violet,—You have little cause to think kindly of your mother, but I Impe to show you that it is not my fault my only child has grown up a stranger to me. I expect your Aunt Hannah has told you just t-ke bare facts of my story, how that I was the youngest ynd prettiest of a large family, and she spoilt me as much as though she had been my mother instead of only my elder sister. I was in qaie of the Buralem pot-banks. The over- seer fell in love with me, and we were married before I was eighteen. "M.Y h-ufiband had always been free with his money, so when he died two years later there was nothing saved, and I and my baby were H?aiiniih got me a poet as maid to a lady g(jng to India, promising to look after you herself while I was away. I bad a good time in India, and I was able to send Hannah plenty of money for my little girl. Then, when you were eight years old, I married again, my second husband, Captain Staunton., being a gentleman and thinking no end of me, although on one poisrt he was as hard as a flint; he would not let me send for vou. But he agreed that I should send Hannah double the sum she had always had, and you should stay with her. "Hannah wrote to me sometimes, and she gave you her own name for fear your father'8 family should try to get posses- sion of you; she said they would think Violet Mason belonged to our brother James, who went to Australia ages Ago. "But I want to tell you of the future, our future, which I hope will be spent together, Violet, if' you can forgive your poor mother her long- neglect of you. Captain Staulltün died this summer, and as soon as I could get my business affairs settled I came to England and got to Birmingham a fortnight ago. "What I heard then horrified me! In all the years of my absence I never sent Hannah less than twenty pounds for you, and for a long time past it has been oter fifty, yet I hear she sent you to a factory as soon as you left school! ".She is de8-d, poor soul, so I must not say what I think of her. Even as a young woman she was of a very careful, saving turn, so she mry have banked the money in your name. She had queer notions, too, about people keeping to their own station and not trying to rise above it, so she may have thought it right to bring you up as a factory lass. < "That is all changed now. I have five hundred a year of my very own, and 'I mean to take a villa, at fldgbasten and give my girl a happy time. "You will wocder that I write instead of coming to see you, but I do not want J vour landlady to see me. When you and 1 are settled in Edgbaston. we don't want her to be coming round and asking for „yeu jaiflt because you once lodged with her. "So you must meet me somewhere fcr us to .discuss our plans. I think you had better come and have tea with me at House, the big draper's near New Street Station. Be at the entrance to the tea-room at four o'clock on the day you get this letter, and I will be waiting for you there. I am still in widow's mourning, so there will be no difficulty in your recognising me, and I sincerely hope, dear, that you will soon learn to love "Your affectionate mother, "ADA STAUNTON." Violet read this long letter through with kfcsn pleasure, and not a single doubt as- sailed her as to its bona tides, for the writer had contrived with consummate clearness to add a few facts to her narra- tive which Violet knew to be true. Aunt Hannah had always told the girl they came originally from Burslem, and that she herself had worked in a pot-bank there. She had expatiated on the idleness I and vanity of her youngest sister Ada, who had actually turned her back on weil paid, honest work to go to the euds of the earth as white slave to some rich lady. Then the widow récrwd to her sister's saving ways, hinting that Hannah banked the remittances instead of spending them on Violet, and the- old maid herself on her deaiJi-bed had alluded to "her little hoard." It all fitted in, there was not one link wanting. "She is my mother, she will take care, of me, and all this dreadful loneliness will be over," thought Violet, with a sigh of intense relief. T IShoe had been "out" more than a month now, and in spite of Mrs. Jcnes's sovereign she had had a very hard time. As. soon as she foun4 the sort of woman Miss Gibbs was, the dread of being turned penniless into the streets if her three shillings were I not forthcoming every Monday, took posses- sion of the poor girl, and she paid six weeks' rent In advance so that whatever happened she would at least have a, roof over her head for that time. For the rest, she had lived on as little as she could, tea and toast being her great stand-by; indeed, Slllce. Mrs. Jones left Birmingham Violet had not had oe good, substantial meal, the result being that her cheeks had begun to look thinner, there were dark .rings round her eyes, and the- thin, drawn mouh told its own tale of patient suffering. It wanted live, minutes to four when Violet reached the prill cipal entrance to Stafford House, and her heart sank within her, for a. sale w.i3 going on and the shop looked thronged. She entered the shop slowly, gazing a little vaguely about her—conduct which, poor child, had she only known it, was the very way to excite suspicion from the shop- walkers and cue or two detectives in plain clothes, who stationed near the most thronged counters with a," view to detecting any attempt at shop-lifting. One of the girls Behind the lace counter I looked a little less unapproachable than the rest. She had fair, hair, a little like Nora Smith's, and just the oame bright blue eyes, and somehow that touch of ? resemblance to her friend emboldened Violet to ask her a question. Please could you tell me the was to the tea-room? she said .hesitatingly. "I have to meet someone there." Mabel Greene was a very kind-hearted girl, and instead of snubbing the shabby questioner, she flashed on her a sunny smIle., The te:¡,oom'g on the second floor. If you go up in the lift you'll find the door lust opposite where you get out." In the distance Violet could see a notice, "To the lift," and she turned from 'the lace counter to make her way towards it, when she suddenly felt. a sharp tug at her ulster, but she waited a moment and then passed, oo. "In such f. 'crowd as this, people must jostle each other a. bit, she reflected quietly. If I wa a great" ladv yrifh a tlUr,, full of I might.feel a bit afraid of pickpockets, but there's nothing on me that anjroiw* could want to steal." I She hada.chcd the lift; another moment and she would have entered it, but before her turn came to pass- through the doorway, a tall man seized her rather roughly by tl,e-,Oxm and asked, What? have you got in your pocket?" Utterly bewildered, Violet turned to her questioner. Notlring except my purse, a letter, and a handkerchief," she answered quietly, I have not bought anything here; JI only came to moot a lady in the tea-room." I shall have to trouble you to come with me to the manager's office," returned the man sharply. You'd better come quietly," he added in a threatening torre as the girl hesitated, or it will be worse for you." Almost as though by magic, a tall, middle- aged man seemed to appear from nowhere, and addressed himself to her persecutor. "'I am a shareholder in this company," lie said gravely, "and a personal friend of the manager. I will answer for this young ludy a3 for myself." "I don't know you, air," the detective said curtly, "and my orders are to charge the young woman with stealing a collar, value .two guineas, from the lace counter. You can come with her to the manager if vou can cozne -vv?, *th lier to ?hQ manager if vE)u "We will both go to the manager," was the answer. "Miss, Mason," turning ta, Violet, "I can see tha.t you liave quite for- gotten me, but I am thankful for your sake that I am here." I "I know you now," and Violet drew a long, trembling breath. "You are Major Muurc. Mr. Seymour, the manager of Hethericg- j ton's, was soon in 'the melancholy looking waiting-room to which Violet and her cham- pion had been conducted, and the defective, Austin, did not feel much comfort in seeing him +- take the major's hand and give it a hearty grip. The man told his story. He had seen the young woman hanging about the laco counter; he had-followed her, and had dis- tinctly seen the end of a valuable- lace collar protruding from her ulster poekct. "I never stole it," said Violet simply, when Austin had triumphantly produced the collar from her pocket, "I came here to—to meet a lady. I can show you the letter making the appointment." Mr. Seymour took the folded sheet and read the passage. He looked very grave. "This proves that you were in the shop for a perfectly legitimate purpose. How do you account for this collar being found in your ulster pocket?" "There was a crowd round the lace counter," said' Violet, "and I waited there quite five minutes till I could get a chance to speak to the young lady in charge of 'it. I wanted to ask her the way to the tea- room. "Miss Greene is at the lace counter." sfeid the manager. tr Austin "-to the detective— "yon had better ask her to step here." "It was Miss Greene set me on the young woman's track," said Austin. "She told me she had missed a valuable collar, and she was sure a. woman with black hair who had been hanging about the counter asking ques- tions had taken it." "There was a black-haired woman, with a. red face, looking at the collars," said Violet, soon after I left the counter I felt a tug at my uLster. Perhaps she really took tfce collar and put it into my pocket when she found she was being followed." "I shouldn't wonder," said the manager quietly; then, as the detective disappeared, he turned to his friend and asked: "By th,- way, Munro, where do you come in ? '«& cojne in' because I know Miss Mason to be incapable of theft. Not much more than two months ago I had the misfortune to cause her aunt's' death, for the pgox lady I was knocked down by my car aijd. died within two hours, and although I was acquitted of all blame at the inquest, I called: on Miss bson-who, I understood, to be the vic- tim's only near relatioTi-to offer her pecu- niary compensation for her aunt's loss. She absolutely rrf,sed to take a penny; she said- she was young and strong and preferred to earn her own living. Now, Mr. Seymour, a girl who was so full of honest independence in August cfoesn't turn- thief in October." "I should say 1100," said Mr." Seymour. "But here comes Austin, and Miss Greene with him." The fair-haired assistant flashed Violet a look of kindly sympathy, a-nd went straight to the point at once. "I am positive that the collar was taken ty a stout, mi&dle-ageti woman with black hair and a red face. She has been hanging abmit my counter two or three times "this afternoon, and when I spoko to her she always asked for some sort of lace Tve do not stock. I remember this young lady," she glanced at Violet, "perfectly. She asked me the way to the tea-room, but she was not near enough to the missing collar to have taken it, and I saw it safe after she had turned away." To do Mr. Seymour justice, he admitted ■ Violet's innocence fully, and, apologised to her for all the unpleasantness she had gone through, finally suggesting that she should go to the tea-room and keep her long-delayed appointment. "You are not fit to go," .said Major Munro kindly, "the tea-room will be crammed, and you look ready to faint now. I am sure Mr. Seymour will allow you to wait here, and' I will keep the appointment in your stead. Do you know the lady's name, and can you de- scribe her?" "Mrs. Staunton. She would be in widow's words. I think she is nearly forty, but prob- ably she looks older, as she has spent many years in India." (To be Continued.) _1-
ONE-MAN TRENCHES. I
ONE-MAN TRENCHES. I When troops are advancing or retiring, and there is no time in which to prepare elaborate trenches, each individual soldier is left to provide cover for himefelf. At the beginning of the war this was done bv making snail trenches in which the soldier laid with his body in a line with his- rifle. Is was found, however, that this position left the lege very much exposed to shell-fire. Tho majority of the wounded were suffering from shell wounds in the legs, and the authorities' set to work to devise a method by which these casualties could be avoided. The result was that a new type of trench I was evolved. In the new trenches the soldier, instead of lying with his body in a line with his rifle, now lies with his body at right angles to his rifle. His legs are thus given much more protection from shrapnel splinters. A shrapnel shell usually bursts overhead, and the bullets are showered downwards in a forward direction. In future, therefore, the splinters will prob- ably bury themselves harmlesly in the earth, instead of in the legs of the soldiers.
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Captain Arthur "M. Laseelles, V.C.. M.C., Durham Light Infantry, awarded the Vic- toria Cross in January last, is reported killed. It is said that a leg of mutton put before I Admiral Meurer and the other three officers who met Admiral Beatty was eaten to the bone, and everything elSe on the table con- sumed. Reetrictions on the release pf new machine tools and wood-working machinery are withdrawn, provided machines are bought from firms holding permits to trade in them. President Wilson, speaking by wireless telephone in his study at the White House, directed six Army aeroplanes over Wash- ing ton, the pilots manoeuvring according to his orders.
.HOME BRESSMAKINS. I
HOME BRESSMAKINS. I A NEAT LITTLE SHIRT BLOUSE. I One of the garments that is always I needed, whatever the time of the year, is a j nicely cut and well made shirt blouse, the ■ sort of blouse one can wear either with a ijeat costume or with a separate skirt. In fact, there is never a time when' one's ward- robe is so full that an extra shirt blouse does not meet with a warm welcome. Now the smart little model sketched in our illus- tration this week is one of the newest shirt blouses shown, and is so simple in shape [Refer to H. D. 263.] J that it is exceedingly easy to make. Even the inexperienced worker will be completely successful with the making of this blouse, if she will onlv follow the pattern and direc- tions caretuhy. THE MATERIAL.-—If you want to use the blouse immediately, I would advise the choice of some fairly warm material, such as Viyella, Aza, blouse flannelette, spunella, sp-unella de Chine, wincey. or ddaine. But if the shirt is to be worn during the spring .and summer such fabrics as linen, zephyr, • er<Spe de Chine, Jap silk, cotton voile, cotton crepe, etc., ate more suitable. You will xeed 2§ yards of 40in. material for a figure of medium size. THE PAITFRN.-Lay the pattern against the figure before attempting to cut it out in the material, and make' any little altera- tions that may be. necessary. This is much more ea-sily and satisfactorily done in the pattern t'han in the cut out garment. The pattern inclndes six pieces—front, back, sleeve, collar cuff, and shoulder strap. l'ou will remember that no turnings are allowed for in the pattern, so you should leave about three quar- ters of an inch on all seam edges and sufficient material for the edges where gathers come and where herns are turned up. THE CUTTING OUT. Fold ther material. down the middle, so. that the selvedges, come to- gether. Lay the pattern upon it, taking care th at the straight edges of the collar and the back come to the fold. In a.ddi- tion to the piece# in the pattern, you will have to cut a lining for the col- 1 a r, remember- ing to cut it on the cross; linings for the shoulder stra ps; ajjd two straps, each bin. wide, for facing the fronts. THE MAKING.—Join together the under- arm seaihs by French sewing, taking care that you do not get the seam at all twisted. Now face up each edge of the front with the Sin. strips of material. This is done by laying the blouse front and the facing strip together, right sides inwards, running them round the edges, turning them inside out, round the e d ges, ttiint?,, raw edge of the and then turning in the raw edge of the facing and catching it down here and there to the inside of the blouse. Now gather the ehouldej. edges of the back to both fronts. Turn in the edges of each shoulder strap and stitch the gathers to the under side of each strap. Next line up these shoulder straps'with the prepared strips, taking care when the edges ¡of the linings are turned in that they are exactly the .same size as the straps. Hem each lining neatly along either edge. Fold back the top of each front, to ma-kc the rovers, and press well. Now lay the collar and its lining together, wrong sde out, and stitch them along the un- juotched edges. Turn the. coUar to the right. side and run and fell its. notched edges to the neck, and joining it, where necessary,- to the top of each revers. Join up -the sleeves by French sewing. Gather the bottom of the sleeve. Join the cuff into a circle, turn in the raw edges, fold the cuff in two, and sandwich the gathers oi the sleeve between the turned-in edges. Put the top of the sleeve into the armhole, and either whip the raw edges closely or bind them with a strip of the material cut on the cross. Hem the bottom of the blouse. I SOME PRETTY BAGS. I Many of the West End shops are showing particularly. pretty bags just now with a view, of course, to the Christmas shopper. Many of these -bags are more. or less elaborately beaded. One lovely model re- cently seen in Regent-street was carried out in dark brown silk. It was a long- bag, and j ended at the bottom in a rounded point, from which fell a handsome tassel of beads in soft shades of brown, green, ivory, mas- tic, and Gull yellowish red. The bag- was most beautifully' embroidered in. beads of the same colours. This bag drew up at the neck and was carried by two. straps of the. silk, each strap being ornamented by tiny tassels of the beads. Another pretty ba.g TOS rounded in shape and had a round, stiff bottom. It was carried out in black silk, and was ornamented by groups of tucks, each tuck being headed by a row of tiny steel beads. Steel tassels fell from the rib- bon strings of this model. I ——————————— HOV TO OBTAIN I Paper Pattern of the above BLOUSE, Fill in this form and send it, with remittance in stamps, to MISS LISLE. 8, La Belle Sauvage, LONDON, E.C. 4. Write clearly. Name _——————————— —————————. Address. Pattern No. — PAPER PATTERNS. Price 9d. each, post frog. PATTERNS cut to spccial measure, 1/6 eacb. lISS LISLE will be pleassd to receiv suggestions and to illustrate designs of Jteneral ae to the I HOME DRESSMAKER.
lOUR CHILDREN'S CORNER. I
lOUR CHILDREN'S CORNER. I I ?- ?— .I  ? A WORD OF WISDOM. I [ Don't T7a.it till things get to the worst, Remember this proverb of mine; If you mend a thing quickly at nr&t I l A stitch in time often saves nine. A very small hole in your dress (At least, that's what happens to mine) Should be mended at once, I confess, For a stitch in time often saves nine. If you leave it, it's certain tp grow, Till it's sure to be quite large and fine.; So mend it at once, for you know That a stitch in time often saves nine. [ RUTH AND NAOMI. I In the old, old days, when judges ruled the land in Palestine, there lived a man called Elimelech, who had a wife called Naomi. And they had two sons-they were both married-the wife of ene was called Orpah, and the wife of the other Ruth. Elimelech and his two sons died, and poor Naomi was left alono with her two daugh- ters-in-law. Then Naomi said, to Ruth and Orpah, "Go. and each of you return to your mother's house, and may the Lord deal kindly with you!" They dfd not want to leave her, but she said, "No, you must go; you must not stay with me, fo- the hand of -the Lord is gone out against me!" Then they wept, and Orpah kissed her mother-in-law and went away. Naomi said to Ruth, "See, Orpah has gone back to her people; you must go back too." But Ruth said, "Do not ask me to leave you for) wherever you go I will go, and where you lodge I will lodge; your people shall' be my people, and your God my God When Naomi saw that Ruth' was deter- mined ndt to leave her, she left eff telling her to go back, and the tvo went together. And Ruth never forsook Naomi, but always lived with her. And when Ruth was mar- ried again, to Boaz, and had a little son, then Naoroi rejoiced with her. And this I child was èalled Obed, and Ire was' the father of Jesse, who was the father of David. r CARELESS PHILIP. I "Oh, I'll go and meet her at the station, Mother," said Philip. "Very well, dear," said Mother. "Don't be late, for she won't know her way heve." be late, I'll be there in time all right, said "Oh, I'll be there in time a.ll right," id Philip; and off he went upstaire Later on in the morning Mother heard a timid Imcck at the door, and, when she opened it, she saw a small 6grure with a Wg and a shovel in her band. "Why, Isabella!" said Mother; is that you? How did you come by yourself? i sent Philip to meet you. Where is he* How did you find your way?" "He wasn't there," said Isabella, smiling t it didn't matter—I asked a policeman, and you see I got here all right." Mother went upstairs, and found Philip sitting on the floor doing his painting. "I forgot all about it," he said. "Well!" raid Mother,' "you are a nice sort of a gentleman, I must saj!" [ COUSIN PRUE. I She is a splendid person, Far better than a qeen; She has the prettiest face, I think. That ever. I have seen. She does not wear a coronet, Or diamonds in her hair, And as for rings upon her hands, I've never seen them there. But she has such a lovely smile, An4, oh, such friendly eyes > And then she is so careful, too, I think she's very wise. SJ1o'U always help you if she can. She'll read to you and play-, I don't know when I'm happier  Than when she spends the day J*j And plays with me and talks to me, Just she and me-the two— Now can't you guess at who it is? Of course, it's Cousin Prue. THE SHEPHERD-BOY AND THE LAMB. ) He counted them over and over again, and it always came to the same nvinbez-thge was one missing. Then he went over them all very carefully to find 'out which it was, and at last he siiid, "Why, of course, it's the little white lamb! Where can he be?" He fastened up all the other sheep and lambs safely, and then went back to find the mssing one. iHe searched evary-,A,here. and for a long time he could not see any, sign of it, but just as he was thinking of turning, back he heard a faint "Ba-a P' from some way below him. He went back to the edge of the cliff and peeped over-there was the poor little thing, stuck in the middle of a bramble-bush half- d onvu, It was very hard work to get down to it, .and rather dangerous, too, but he managed it somehow, for "he knew it would never do to leave the little thing where it was. He reached it, and then tied a rope firmly round its body, and made his way rc,p,e with the cli  tyi and made his way back up the cliff, taking the end of the rope with him; then, as soon as he got to the top, he was able to draw the lamb up into a safe place. How glacl it was to be on the firm ground once more—it must have been frisking about too near the edge, and have fallen over. He took it back to the others, and you may think how glad it was to see its mother again. NAMES. I "It seems friendly," said Jessie. "And it likes to be* stroked," said Polly. It's not a bad dog," said Jack. "I think it's a dear doggie," said Robin. g  e, sai d Rebin. "Suppose we adopt itY" said Jeesits. "Oh yes," said "And we'll take it II home," said Jack. "And keep it always," said Robin. They called the dog, and it came running after them, and' frillowed them for a long' way. "What shaJI we call him?" said Jessie. "I think Toby's a good name." "Not for this kind of dog," said Polly "I should think Clarence would do." "N'ô.- said Jack; "he shall be 'Wilkins." "That's silly!" said Robin; we must call him Fido." They argued a)boutit for a long time. and were almost beginning to quarrel, when a voice said, "Now, young masters and inisses, what are you adoing with old Carlo?" "Ts he your dog said Jessie, in surprise. "No, miss, he belongs up at the Hall," said the old gardener. "Hark, Carlo! They're calling you!" Carlo pricked up hie ears, then 6ff he dashed and was soon lost to sight. "There goes Toby!" said Jessie. I "Good-bye, Clarenoe said Polly. "Ta-ta, Wilkins!" said Jack. "Poor old Fido/1 said Robin Then they all laughed
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London is said to be expriencing a short- age of coppers, and. banks find a difficulty in supplying customers. Bankers cannot ex- plain the cauee of the scarcity. Overturning at Hinxhill, Aehford, Kent, a threshing machine crushed a maR to death. After ten months' service in France, the Royal Horse Artillery Band has returned to Aldershot. •
J I CLUB WINDOW. I
J I CLUB WINDOW. I Some people complain that Mr. Arnold Bennett's novels are too long; and American admirers, obaffed him unmercifully when they once entertained bim at dinner in New York. Said one of them: "I have enjoyed trying to read your books, Mr. Bennett. A year ago I started Clayhanger,' and I pro- pose to finish, it." The Royal Palace at Madrid is of white marble and is 470ft. square. It cost over a million sterling to build. «• General Leonard Wood, the American eol- dieij, tells the story of a captain to whom was assigned a. new orderly, a fresh recruit. "Your work will be to clean my boots, but- tons, belt, and so forth, shave me, see to my horse, which vou must groom thoroughly, and clean tfie equipment. After that you go to your hut, help to serve the breakfast-, and after breakftist lend a hand washing up. At eight o'clock you go dn parade and drill till twelve o'clock—— "Ex- cuse me, air," broke in the recruit, "is there anyone else in -the army besides, me f" General Sir Arthur Carrie, the brilliant conducted a real estate agent's business in Victoria, British • Columbia, before the war. He began life as a schoolmaster, but soon launched out an his own as an estate agent, devoting his spare time to training in the Militia. He went to the' Front in com- mand of a battalion. # ,s -rich One of Mr. Booth TRjkington'6 rich friei?ds ,às crnpvi}lg a butier, "I a lways call oar servants ty their last names," said madam to the new butler. "What i& your name?" "May I suggest, madam, that in my pase it might be better to call me by my first name, Thomas'?" ventured the appli- cant. "No," said the lady. "It's your last name or nothing. What is your full inaine. "It is not that I have any objection, madam," answered the butler. "It occurred to me that perhaps the family might not like, it, ma'am. My name is Thomas Dar- ling." » < France's famous tric-colour flag was in- vented by Mary, Queen of Scots, for the Swiss Guard in France—white for France, blue for Scotland, and red for Switzerland. There is a very curious fact in connection with General Allenby's name. The nearest rendering of it in Aiabic is Alla-Nebl, mean- ing "Prophet of Go3." Here is another coin- cidence: "Ibne-el-Alla," whicTi is not far off All MI by written backwards, mea'ns in Arabic "Son," cr "Servant of God." This should intereet those who believe in the significance, of -names; and it made a deep impression on tlie natives when the General walked into *• Jerusalem. "A man > can have t:ie greatest jrailroad in the world, the best road bed, thf finest cars, the most imjftessive stations," said Samuel Reg, then president of the Pennsylvania Railroad, at a dinner recently, "but he can't make that road pay unless he gives the public two' things—service and cour- tesy." This Ts psetty true of any business. Lord Portman has lived under five Sover- eigns. tHe is immensely wealthy, deriving a great portion of his income from his Lon- don property, which Ties on the north side cif Oxford-street, and comprises Portman- square. Lord Portman's big town house in Pitman-square was once the home of the • celebrated Mrs.. Montague, friend and hostess of chimney-sweeps. Admiral Sir Robert S. Lowry is known to his friends as a very religious man, and on the Sunday morning when Admiral Beatty ciiased the German squadron in the North Sea he sent a message to Edinburgh's Lord Provost asking that prayers should bf offfeied up in the churches; seme thought (" OUT warships, were in peril, but reassuring [ messages scon came to hand. Sir Robert is said to have been in the habit of reading the Burial Service over those mots where his patrols had accounted for a U-boat. The Duk-j of Manchester is the only duke who has earned his living as a journalist. For sfllle time he was a writer of society gossip on a New York daily, and it is said that he was paid a salary of £ 200 a week. < Mr. J. H. Thomas, the railwaymen's leader, began his Tail-wav career at thirteen as an engine-cleaner on the Great Western, after- trying to earn a living as an errand boy. His favourite story concerns a weary, waiting traveller at a station on a certain line, who inquires of a porter if there is a cemetery near. "No.. sir," was the reply I "Then where do you. bury the people, whe dio when waiting for trains?" asked the weary one. x General d'Esperey, the, Ommander of the Allied Forces in the Balkans, writes a nearly illegible hand. It is told of him that once he sent a dispatch post-haste to one of his officers- in charge of an up-country de- tachment. The recipient, not being able to make anything of it, returned the docu- ment to headqyarters..Q 'Esper.:y, in his turn, not recognising it as his own. and equally in the dark 4s to its meaning, told the adjutant to send the dispatch back whence it came, and inform the sender that he had better learn to -write. "But, sir. this is one of your own dispatches," the adjutant replied. ,The officer you addressed it to has returned .it, saying he cannot make it out." "Then send it back once more and tell him to learn to read," thundered D'E4emy i 'Mr. Asquith has more than fulfilled the expectations entertained -of bim, long ago by his gyp at Balliol, who wae wont to declare to intimates that iij young "'Enery 'Erbert Asquith one day became a judge, it wouldn't surprise him." Mr. Asquith 16 physically as robust* as he is mentally. );0 amount of work tiree him, though he hafe admitted that the six weeks' reading which won him the Craven Scholarship at Oxford was the most strenuous bit of work he has ever done in! his life. Sw Alfred Pease, Bart., the famous big- gaane hunter, -has had some thrilling experi- ences in the jungle. He can claim to have had the hardihood to cycle' amid lions, and I he has placed on record the opinion that these animals are iar more sagacious than human beings at hoi^e. At the sound ol his bell, they retired into the bush. The sport- ing baronet was for years a Resident Magis- trate in the TransváaJ, and among the many achievements of which he may well be proud I is that he is the only Englishman who t-ver interviewed the Mad Mullah. Mr. 'Winston CITurchill always learns an important speech to the letter. He thus follows the advice of the late Mark Twain, I who once said: "A politician should know a speech 38 he knows his prayers." He is, in fact, so careful in regard to his speeches that- he has been kaown to write out one nine tiines in his own hand in order to commit it thoroughly to his memory. President Woodrow Wilson personally prepares his speeches and important de- spatches with the aid of shorthand and a typewriter. The President is an expert 'shorthand writer: and once, at the Man- hättan Club, New York, he read his speech directly from his shorthand notes. When compiling a speech the President never con- s-alts ::11 of his numerous satellites?."
OUR LONDON LETTER. lOUR LOND?N…
OUR LONDON LETTER. lOUR LOND?N LETTE [Frorn Our Special Corresponded.^ ———— It wae Foch the people wanted to see. It was his day, the day of the man who has "won the war." It was not much of a day either, so far as the weather was concerned, lit was rain, rain, and again rain all the jnorRing, arid although the downpour had ceased when the distinguished visitors reached Charing Cross there was a general dreariness and muddiness which would hare beea depressing enough to prevent people turning out of their hemes except for some very special occasion. And this was a very special one indeed. The crowds outside Charing Cross and everywhere on the route to Cla ridge's Hotel were enormous. And the enthusiasm of the people over the visit of the great French &oldier was triumphant over weather conditions. The cheering was tremendous. The expression of a people's heartfelt gratitude and admiration. The quiet-looking, grizzled soldier driving with the Duke of Cosnaught took it. all -s^ry calmly and impassively, except that tw .band was almost continuously at the salcte. M. Clemenceau. who drove with Mr. Lloyd; George, also got roar after roar of cheesing, but,ft was Foch's day really. How many of the women candidates will be able after tho election to write the magic letters M.P. after their name:*? From all I can hear the general feeling will be one of sur]arise if any of thoni are l'otned, The general feeling may. (,-Yf course, be quite a mistaken one, but there is undoubtedly an impression that howen-vr ready the Hotffee of Commons mar be to open its doors to tie woman member, no constituency is as yet far enough advanced (if you etsrc, to put it that way) to want to be represented by a woman. Most .people appear to think that the elec- tors will want some time to accustom them. selves to the idea, and will expect a woman candidate to try and try again before they will give her a majority of votes. But we shall see. what happens. It is a good bign that practically all the women candidates have excellent rccords of public service. Many are well-known social reformers. There is naturally a great deal of specu- lation as to how the women will vote. The large female vote" is the imknown factor, or one of the unknown factors, in this electien. 'It is understood that there are eight nillion Women entitkd to Totc-a number consider- ably larger than was contemplated hen tte Ri I i w m c-d. I think those people' wno expect that the women's vote will go- solidly to one side or, the ot!1(.r are mistaken. On" any question affecting women specially they might vot-o in mass, but as a general thing, I imagine women are subject to the same poiitical divisions as men. There was a time when the division was simplicity ifcself, when Gilbert could write: "Every boy and every gal, Tha-t's born into this world alive • Is either a little Liberal, Or else a little Conservative." That time, however, is long paet, and it Gilbert were writing the Sentry's Song t, day he would find the position much mere complex. Among women, as among men. there are, in addition to Liberals and Con- servatives (who are themselves subdivided), Labourites, Socialists. Independents, Bol- shevists, Nationals, and what not. Some people think that women will vote in a- bcdy for women candidates. That seems to me doubtful. Perhaps the view that most of the mar- ried women voters will vote the s"me way as their husbands is a sound one. But there are many whose husbands are overseas and not in a position to giH" political instruc- tion. One lady said to PIN, wife the other day, "I shan't vote at all. Jack is not here to tell me how to vo^j?, and I don't know anything about politics." There are, of course, some women who. will vote in opposi- tion to their husBar.ds on principle. In in- dustria1 districts, where there are many I womn members of trade uni?M there may be solid voting for women Labour candi- dates. The success of the National Restaurant in New Bridge-street has been so proi-ounccd that others are to be started, and a scheme has been for the establishment of 4,000 national restaurants throughout the metropolitan area. The idea is that of Mr. C. F. Spencer, the director of the National Kitchens Division of the Food Ministry, and he hop36 to carry it out in co-operntion with the caterers of London, each of whom under the scheme would be permitted to oall his premises' a National Restaurant. The main i f-eaturcs of the scheme are the collective purchase cf t foodstuffs, the provision of I equipment on a co-operating principle, and an agreed system of inspeation to secure reasonable prices and good conditions of management. There, will be -"National menus" and reasonable prices. Whether the -caterers will take kindly to the sugges- tion remains to be seen. It would set. a limit to their profits, and r„o-t of them wore hoping that the end of the war would mean also the end cf National Restaui-ants. Musical people will he much interested in -• the effort being made by London musicians and others who desire that music shall have- its 'part on great days of national rejoicing. It is often said that we are not a musical people, and often it is Sftid by people who know no t l,' i nc,, the ,;u b ?ec t know nothing whatever about the subject. Certainly there is choral singing to be heard in some parts pi this country which cannot be beaten anywhere in the world. We have  h e N-or l d. have some quite respectable choral singing even it London, though it must be admitted that we have to take a back seat to Leeds and Shef- field and one or two other places where they grow enthusiasm and beautiful voices. Still, we could get up a tidy choir for a peace I pageant in Hyde Park. As a result of a meeting held the other day, a National League of Pageantry and r nsic, has been formed. It is proposed to mak a. begin- ning with a federation of London church choirs and choral societies. One speaker at the meeting suggested a mass meeting in Hyde Park at Christinas. A peal of church bells he thought .we could have, and then 10,000 voices I singing old Christmas enrols. 10,000 voices old Christmas Wouldn't it be fine? A. E. M.
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At the mec-ting or t}u British School in Athens, at Bimingiea 'K c- u e it was an- nounced that during the year a very in- teresting unpubli.-ihed letter, written by Lord Byron during his stay in Jrheiis in. yr (i !I-I b-is 1811, had been given to the school. It was written to his friend Hodgson, and ns in very "light-hearted vein.. t