Chapter I: Preface

I must begin with the same announcement as in the previous Volume (which I shall henceforward refer to as “Vol. I.,” calling the present Volume “Vol. II.”), viz. that the Locket, at p. 405, was drawn by ‘Miss Alice Havers.’ And my reason, for not stating this on the title-page—that it seems only due, to the artist of these wonderful pictures, that his name should stand there alone—has, I think, even greater weight in Vol. II. than it had in Vol. I. Let me call especial attention to the three “Little Birds” borders, at pp. 365, 371, 377. The way, in which he has managed to introduce the most minute details of the stanzas to be illustrated, seems to me a triumph of artistic ingenuity.

Let me here express my sincere gratitude to the many Reviewers who have noticed, whether favorably or unfavorably, the previous Volume. Their unfavorable remarks were, most probably, well-deserved; the favorable ones less probably so. Both kinds have no doubt served to make the book known, and have helped the reading Public to form their opinions of it. Let me also here assure them that it is not from any want of respect for their criticisms, that I have carefully forborne from reading _any_ of them. I am strongly of opinion that an author had far better _not_ read any reviews of his books: the unfavorable ones are almost certain to make him cross, and the favorable ones conceited; and _neither_ of these results is desirable.

Criticisms have, however, reached me from private sources, to some of which I propose to offer a reply.

One such critic complains that Arthur’s strictures, on sermons and on choristers, are too severe. Let me say, in reply, that I do _not_ hold myself responsible for _any_ of the opinions expressed by the characters in my book. They are simply opinions which, it seemed to me, might probably be held by the persons into whose mouths I put them, and which were worth consideration.

Other critics have objected to certain innovations in spelling, such as “ca’n’t,” “wo’n’t,” “traveler.” In reply, I can only plead my firm conviction that the popular usage is _wrong_. As to “ca’n’t,” it will not be disputed that, in all _other_ words ending in “n’t,” these letters are an abbreviation of “not”; and it is surely absurd to suppose that, in this solitary instance, “not” is represented by “’t”! In fact “can’t” is the _proper_ abbreviation for “can it,” just as “is’t” is for “is it.” Again, in “wo’n’t,” the first apostrophe is needed, because the word “would” is here _abridged_ into “wo”: but I hold it proper to spell “don’t” with only _one_ apostrophe, because the word “do” is here _complete_. As to such words as “traveler,” I hold the correct principle to be, to _double_ the consonant when the accent falls on that syllable; otherwise to leave it _single_. This rule is observed in most cases (e.g. we double the “r” in “preferred,” but leave it single in “offered”), so that I am only extending, to other cases, an existing rule. I admit, however, that I do not spell “parallel,” as the rule would have it; but here we are constrained, by the etymology, to insert the double “l”.

In the Preface to Vol. I. were two puzzles, on which my readers might exercise their ingenuity. One was, to detect the 3 lines of “padding,” which I had found it necessary to supply in the passage extending from the top of p. 35 to the middle of p. 38. They are the 14th, 15th, and 16th lines of p. 37. The other puzzle was, to determine which (if any) of the 8 stanzas of the Gardener’s Song (see pp. 65, 78, 83, 90, 106, 116, 164, 168) were adapted to the context, and which (if any) had the context adapted to them. The last of them is the only one that was adapted to the context, the “Garden-Door that opened with a key” having been substituted for some creature (a Cormorant, I think) “that nestled in a tree.” At pp. 78, 106, and 164, the context was adapted to the stanza. At p. 90, neither stanza nor context was altered: the connection between them was simply a piece of good luck.

In the Preface to Vol. I., at pp. ix., x., I gave an account of the making-up of the story of “Sylvie and Bruno.” A few more details may perhaps be acceptable to my Readers.

It was in 1873, as I _now_ believe, that the idea first occurred to me that a little fairy-tale (written, in 1867, for “Aunt Judy’s Magazine,” under the title “Bruno’s Revenge”) might serve as the nucleus of a longer story. This I surmise, from having found the original draft of the last paragraph of Vol. II., dated 1873. So that this paragraph has been waiting 20 years for its chance of emerging into print—more than twice the period so cautiously recommended by Horace for ‘repressing’ one’s literary efforts!

It was in February, 1885, that I entered into negotiations, with Mr. Harry Furniss, for illustrating the book. Most of the substance of _both_ Volumes was then in existence in manuscript: and my original intention was to publish the _whole_ story at once. In September, 1885, I received from Mr. Furniss the first set of drawings—the four which illustrate “Peter and Paul” (see I. pp. 144, 147, 150, 154): in November, 1886, I received the second set—the three which illustrate the Professor’s song about the “little man” who had “a little gun” (Vol. II. pp. 265, 266, 267): and in January, 1887, I received the third set—the four which illustrate the “Pig-Tale.”

So we went on, illustrating first one bit of the story, and then another, without any idea of sequence. And it was not till March, 1889, that, having calculated the number of pages the story would occupy, I decided on dividing it into _two_ portions, and publishing it half at a time. This necessitated the writing of a _sort_ of conclusion for the first Volume: and _most_ of my Readers, I fancy, regarded this as the _actual_ conclusion, when that Volume appeared in December, 1889. At any rate, among all the letters I received about it, there was only _one_ which expressed _any_ suspicion that it was not a _final_ conclusion. This letter was from a child. She wrote “we were so glad, when we came to the end of the book, to find that there was no ending-up, for that shows us that you are going to write a sequel.”

It may interest some of my Readers to know the _theory_ on which this story is constructed. It is an attempt to show what might _possibly_ happen, supposing that Fairies really existed; and that they were sometimes visible to us, and we to them; and that they were sometimes able to assume human form: and supposing, also, that human beings might sometimes become conscious of what goes on in the Fairy-world—by actual transference of their immaterial essence, such as we meet with in ‘Esoteric Buddhism.’

I have supposed a Human being to be capable of various psychical states, with varying degrees of consciousness, as follows:—

(_a_) the ordinary state, with no consciousness of the presence of Fairies;

(_b_) the ‘eerie’ state, in which, while conscious of actual surroundings, he is _also_ conscious of the presence of Fairies;

(_c_) a form of trance, in which, while _un_conscious of actual surroundings, and apparently asleep, he (i.e. his immaterial essence) migrates to other scenes, in the actual world, or in Fairyland, and is conscious of the presence of Fairies.

I have also supposed a Fairy to be capable of migrating from Fairyland into the actual world, and of assuming, at pleasure, a Human form; and also to be capable of various psychical states, viz.

(_a_) the ordinary state, with no consciousness of the presence of Human beings;

(_b_) a sort of ‘eerie’ state, in which he is conscious, if in the actual world, of the presence of actual Human beings; if in Fairyland, of the presence of the immaterial essences of Human beings.

I will here tabulate the passages, in both Volumes, where abnormal states occur.

Historian’s Locality and State. Other characters.
Vol. I.
pp. 1-16 In train _c_ Chancellor (_b_) p. 2.
33-55 do. _c_
65-79 do. _c_
83-99 At lodgings _c_
105-117 On beach _c_
119-183 At lodgings _c_ S. and B. (_b_) pp. 158-163.
Professor (_b_) p. 169.
190-221 In wood _b_ Bruno (_b_) pp. 198-220.
225-233 do. sleep-walking _c_ S. and B. (_b_).
247-253 Among ruins _c_ do. (_b_).
262, 263 do. dreaming _a_
263-269 do. sleep-walking _c_ S. B. and Professor in Human
form.
270 In street _b_
279-294 At station, &c. _b_ S. and B. (_b_).
304-323 In garden _c_ S. B. and Professor (_b_).
329-344 On road, &c. _a_ S. and B. in Human form.
345-356 In street, &c. _a_
361-382 In wood _b_ S. and B. (_b_).
Vol. II.
pp. 4-18 In garden _b_ S. and B (_b_).
47-52 On road _b_ do. (_b_).
53-78 do. _b_ do. in Human form.
79-92 do _b_ do. (_b_).
152-211 In drawing-room _a_ do. in Human form.
212-246 do. _c_ do. (_b_).
262-270 In smoking-room _c_ do. (_b_).
304-309 In wood _b_ do. (_a_); Lady Muriel (_b_).
311-345 At lodgings _c_
351-399 do. _c_
407-end. do. _b_

In the Preface to Vol. I., at p. x., I gave an account of the _origination_ of some of the ideas embodied in the book. A few more such details may perhaps interest my Readers:—

I. p. 203. The very peculiar use, here made of a dead mouse, comes from real life. I once found two very small boys, in a garden, playing a microscopic game of ‘Single-Wicket.’ The bat was, I think, about the size of a table-spoon; and the utmost distance attained by the ball, in its most daring flights, was some 4 or 5 yards. The _exact_ length was of course a matter of _supreme_ importance; and it was always carefully measured out (the batsman and the bowler amicably sharing the toil) with a dead mouse!

I. p. 259. The two quasi-mathematical Axioms, quoted by Arthur at p. 259 of Vol. I., (“Things that are greater than the same are greater than one another,” and “All angles are equal”) were actually enunciated, in all seriousness, by undergraduates at a University situated not 100 miles from Ely.

II. p. 10. Bruno’s remark (“I can, if I like, &c.”) was actually made by a little boy.

II. p. 12. So also was his remark (“I know what it _doesn’t_ spell.”) And his remark (“I just twiddled my eyes, &c.”) I heard from the lips of a little girl, who had just solved a puzzle I had set her.

II. p. 57. Bruno’s soliloquy (“For its father, &c.”) was actually spoken by a little girl, looking out of the window of a railway-carriage.

II. p. 138. The remark, made by a guest at the dinner-party, when asking for a dish of fruit (“I’ve been wishing for them, &c.”) I heard made by the great Poet-Laureate, whose loss the whole reading-world has so lately had to deplore.

II. p. 163. Bruno’s speech, on the subject of the age of ‘Mein Herr,’ embodies the reply of a little girl to the question “Is your grandmother an _old_ lady?” “I don’t know if she’s an _old_ lady,” said this cautious young person; “she’s _eighty-three_.”

II. p. 203. The speech about ‘Obstruction’ is no mere creature of my imagination! It is copied _verbatim_ from the columns of the Standard, and was spoken by Sir William Harcourt, who was, at the time, a member of the ‘Opposition,’ at the ‘National Liberal Club,’ on July the 16th, 1890.

II. p. 329. The Professor’s remark, about a dog’s tail, that “it doesn’t bite at _that_ end,” was actually made by a child, when warned of the danger he was incurring by pulling the dog’s tail.

II. p. 374. The dialogue between Sylvie and Bruno, which occupies lines 6 to 15, is a _verbatim_ report (merely substituting “cake” for “penny”) of a dialogue overheard between two children.

One story in this Volume—‘Bruno’s Picnic’—I can vouch for as suitable for telling to children, having tested it again and again; and, whether my audience has been a dozen little girls in a village-school, or some thirty or forty in a London drawing-room, or a hundred in a High School, I have always found them earnestly attentive, and keenly appreciative of such fun as the story supplied.

May I take this opportunity of calling attention to what I flatter myself was a successful piece of name-coining, at p. 42 of Vol. I. Does not the name ‘Sibimet’ fairly embody the character of the Sub-Warden? The gentle Reader has no doubt observed what a singularly useless article in a house a brazen trumpet is, if you simply leave it lying about, and never blow it!

Readers of the first Volume, who have amused themselves by trying to solve the two puzzles propounded at pp. xi., xii. of the Preface, may perhaps like to exercise their ingenuity in discovering which (if any) of the following parallelisms were intentional, and which (if any) accidental.

“Little Birds.” Events, and Persons.
Stanza 1. Banquet.
2. Chancellor.
3. Empress and Spinach (II. 325).
4. Warden’s Return.
5. Professor’s Lecture (II. 339).
6. Other Professor’s song (I. 138).
7. Petting of Uggug.
8. Baron Doppelgeist.
9. Jester and Bear (I. 119). Little Foxes.
10. Bruno’s Dinner-Bell; Little Foxes.

I will publish the answer to this puzzle in the Preface to a little book of “Original Games and Puzzles,” now in course of preparation.

I have reserved, for the last, one or two rather more serious topics.

I had intended, in this Preface, to discuss more fully, than I had done in the previous Volume, the ‘Morality of Sport’, with special reference to letters I have received from lovers of Sport, in which they point out the many great advantages which men get from it, and try to prove that the suffering, which it inflicts on animals, is too trivial to be regarded.

But, when I came to think the subject out, and to arrange the whole of the arguments ‘pro’ and ‘con’, I found it much too large for treatment here. Some day, I hope to publish an essay on this subject. At present, I will content myself with stating the net result I have arrived at.

It is, that God has given to Man an absolute right to take the _lives_ of other animals, for _any_ reasonable cause, such as the supply of food: but that He has _not_ given to Man the right to inflict _pain_, unless when _necessary_: that mere pleasure, or advantage, does not constitute such a necessity: and, consequently, that pain, inflicted for the purposes of _Sport_, is cruel, and therefore wrong. But I find it a far more complex question than I had supposed; and that the ‘case’, on the side of the Sportsman, is a much stronger one than I had supposed. So, for the present, I say no more about it.

Objections have been raised to the severe language I have put into the mouth of ‘Arthur’, at p. 277, on the subject of ‘Sermons,’ and at pp. 273, 274, on the subjects of Choral Services and ‘Choristers.’

I have already protested against the assumption that I am ready to endorse the opinions of characters in my story. But, in these two instances, I admit that I am much in sympathy with ‘Arthur.’ In my opinion, far too many sermons are expected from our preachers; and, as a consequence, a great many are preached, which are not worth listening to; and, as a consequence of _that_, we are very apt _not_ to listen. The reader of this paragraph probably heard a sermon last Sunday morning? Well, let him, if he can, name the text, and state how the preacher treated it!

Then, as to ‘Choristers,’ and all the other accessories—of music, vestments, processions, &c.,—which have come, along with them, into fashion—while freely admitting that the ‘Ritual’ movement was sorely needed, and that it has effected a vast improvement in our Church-Services, which had become dead and dry to the last degree, I hold that, like many other desirable movements, it has gone too far in the opposite direction, and has introduced many new dangers.

For the Congregation this new movement involves the danger of learning to think that the Services are done _for_ them; and that their bodily _presence_ is all they need contribute. And, for Clergy and Congregation alike, it involves the danger of regarding these elaborate Services as _ends in themselves_, and of forgetting that they are simply _means_, and the very hollowest of mockeries, unless they bear fruit in our _lives_.

For the Choristers it seems to involve the danger of self-conceit, as described at p. 274, the danger of regarding those parts of the Service, where their help is not required, as not worth attending to, the danger of coming to regard the Service as a mere outward form—a series of postures to be assumed, and of words to be said or sung, while the _thoughts_ are elsewhere—and the danger of ‘familiarity’ breeding ‘contempt’ for sacred things.

Let me illustrate these last two forms of danger, from my own experience. Not long ago, I attended a Cathedral-Service, and was placed immediately behind a row of men, members of the Choir; and I could not help noticing that they treated the _Lessons_ as a part of the Service to which they needed not to give _any_ attention, and as affording them a convenient opportunity for arranging music-books, &c., &c. Also I have frequently seen a row of little choristers, after marching in procession to their places, kneel down, as if about to pray, and rise from their knees after a minute spent in looking about them, it being but too evident that the attitude was a mere mockery. Surely it is very dangerous, for these children, to thus accustom them to _pretend_ to pray? As an instance of irreverent treatment of holy things, I will mention a custom, which no doubt many of my readers have noticed in Churches where the Clergy and Choir enter in procession, viz. that, at the end of the private devotions, which are carried on in the vestry, and which are of course inaudible to the Congregation, the final “Amen” is _shouted_, loud enough to be heard all through the Church. This serves as a signal, to the Congregation, to prepare to rise when the procession appears: and it admits of no dispute that it is for this purpose that it is thus shouted. When we remember to Whom that “Amen” is _really_ addressed, and consider that it is here _used_ for the same purpose as one of the Church-bells, we must surely admit that it is a piece of gross irreverence? To _me_ it is much as if I were to see a Bible used as a footstool.

As an instance of the dangers, for the Clergy themselves, introduced by this new movement, let me mention the fact that, according to _my_ experience, Clergymen of this school are _specially_ apt to retail comic anecdotes, in which the most sacred names and words—sometimes actual texts from the Bible—are used as themes for jesting. Many such things are repeated as having been originally said by _children_, whose utter ignorance of evil must no doubt acquit _them_, in the sight of God, of all blame; but it must be otherwise for those who _consciously_ use such innocent utterances as material for their unholy mirth.

Let me add, however, _most_ earnestly, that I fully believe that this profanity is, in many cases, _un_conscious: the ‘environment’ (as I have tried to explain at p. 123) makes all the difference between man and man; and I rejoice to think that many of these profane stories—which _I_ find so painful to listen to, and should feel it a sin to repeat—give to _their_ ears no pain, and to _their_ consciences no shock; and that _they_ can utter, not less sincerely than myself, the two prayers, “_Hallowed be Thy Name_” and “_from hardness of heart, and contempt of Thy Word and Commandment, Good Lord, deliver us!_” To which I would desire to add, for their sake and for my own, Keble’s beautiful petition, “_help us, this and every day, To live more nearly as we pray!_” It is, in fact, for its _consequences_—for the grave dangers, both to speaker and to hearer, which it involves—rather than for what it is _in itself_, that I mourn over this clerical habit of profanity in social talk. To the _believing_ hearer it brings the danger of loss of reverence for holy things, by the mere act of listening to, and enjoying, such jests; and also the temptation to retail them for the amusement of others. To the _unbelieving_ hearer it brings a welcome confirmation of his theory that religion is a fable, in the spectacle of its accredited champions thus betraying their trust. And to the speaker himself it must surely bring the danger of _loss of faith_. For surely such jests, if uttered with no consciousness of harm, must necessarily be also uttered with no consciousness, at the moment, of the _reality_ of God, as a _living being_, who hears all we say. And he, who allows himself the habit of thus uttering holy words, with no thought of their meaning, is but too likely to find that, for him, God has become a myth, and heaven a poetic fancy—that, for him, the light of life is gone, and that he is at heart an atheist, lost in “_a darkness that may be felt_.”

There is, I fear, at the present time, an increasing tendency to irreverent treatment of the name of God and of subjects connected with religion. Some of our theatres are helping this downward movement by the gross caricatures of clergymen which they put upon the stage: some of our clergy are themselves helping it, by showing that they can lay aside the spirit of reverence, along with their surplices, and can treat as jests, when _outside_ their churches, names and things to which they pay an almost superstitious veneration when _inside_: the “Salvation Army” has, I fear, with the best intentions, done much to help it, by the coarse familiarity with which they treat holy things: and surely every one, who desires to _live_ in the spirit of the prayer “_Hallowed be thy Name_,” ought to do what he can, however little that may be, to check it. So I have gladly taken this unique opportunity, however unfit the topic may seem for the Preface to a book of this kind, to express some thoughts which have weighed on my mind for a long time. I did not expect, when I wrote the Preface to Vol. I, that it would be read to any appreciable extent: but I rejoice to believe, from evidence that has reached me, that it _has_ been read by many, and to hope that this Preface will also be so: and I think that, among them, some will be found ready to sympathise with the views I have put forwards, and ready to help, with their prayers and their example, the revival, in Society, of the waning spirit of reverence.

_Christmas_, 1893.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER PAGE
I. BRUNO’S LESSONS 1
II. LOVE’S CURFEW 20
III. STREAKS OF DAWN 36
IV. THE DOG-KING 52
V. MATILDA JANE 67
VI. WILLIE’S WIFE 82
VII. FORTUNATUS’ PURSE 96
VIII. IN A SHADY PLACE 110
IX. THE FAREWELL-PARTY 128
X. JABBERING AND JAM 147
XI. THE MAN IN THE MOON 162
XII. FAIRY-MUSIC 175
XIII. WHAT TOTTLES MEANT 194
XIV. BRUNO’S PICNIC 212
XV. THE LITTLE FOXES 233
XVI. BEYOND THESE VOICES 247
XVII. TO THE RESCUE! 262
XVIII. A NEWSPAPER-CUTTING 282
XIX. A FAIRY-DUET 287
XX. GAMMON AND SPINACH 310
XXI. THE PROFESSOR’S LECTURE 329
XXII. THE BANQUET 346
XXIII. THE PIG-TALE 363
XXIV. THE BEGGAR’S RETURN 381
XXV. LIFE OUT OF DEATH 400
General Index 413
List of Works 426

ILLUSTRATIONS TO VOL. I.

PAGE
THE MARCH-UP 3
VISITING THE PROFESSOR 11
BOOTS FOR HORIZONTAL WEATHER 15
A PORTABLE PLUNGE-BATH 24
REMOVAL OF UGGUG 41
‘WHAT A GAME!’ 48
‘DRINK THIS!’ 53
‘COME, YOU BE OFF!’ 62
THE GARDENER 66
A BEGGAR’S PALACE 72
THE CRIMSON LOCKET 77
‘HE THOUGHT HE SAW A BUFFALO’ 79
‘IT WAS A HIPPOPOTAMUS’ 91
THE MAP OF FAIRYLAND 96
‘HE THOUGHT HE SAW A KANGAROO’ 106
THE MOUSE-LION 108
‘HAMMER IT IN!’ 115
A BEAR WITHOUT A HEAD 117
‘COME UP, BRUIN!’ 123
THE OTHER PROFESSOR 135
‘HOW CHEERFULLY THE BOND HE SIGNED!’ 144
‘POOR PETER SHUDDERED IN DESPAIR’ 147
‘SUCH BOOTS AS THESE YOU SELDOM SEE’ 150
‘I WILL LEND YOU FIFTY MORE!’ 154
‘HE THOUGHT HE SAW AN ALBATROSS’ 165
THE MASTIFF-SENTINEL 172
THE DOG-KING 176
FAIRY-SYLVIE 193
BRUNO’S REVENGE 213
FAIRIES RESTING 226
A CHANGED CROCODILE 229
A LECTURE ON ART 240
‘THREE BADGERS ON A MOSSY STONE’ 247
‘THE FATHER-BADGER, WRITHING IN A CAVE’ 249
‘THOSE AGED ONES WAXED GAY’ 252
‘HOW PERFECTLY ISOCHRONOUS!’ 268
THE LAME CHILD 280
‘IT WENT IN TWO HALVES’ 285
FIVE O’CLOCK TEA 296
‘WHAT’S THE MATTER, DARLING?’ 307
THE DEAD HARE 321
CROSSING THE LINE 341
‘THE PUG-DOG SAT UP’ 351
THE QUEEN’S BABY 363
THE FROGS’ BIRTHDAY-TREAT 373
‘HE WRENCHED OUT THAT CROCODILE’S TOOF!’ 380
‘LOOK EASTWARD!’ 395

ILLUSTRATIONS TO VOL. II.

PAGE
SYLVIE’S TRUANT-PUPIL 8
KING FISHER’S WOOING 15
‘SPEND IT ALL FOR MINNIE’ 22
‘ARE NOT THOSE ORCHISES?’ 50
A ROYAL THIEF-TAKER 62
‘SUMMAT WRONG WI’ MY SPECTACLES!’ 64
BESSIE’S SONG 75
THE RESCUE OF WILLIE 83
WILLIE’S WIFE 88
FORTUNATUS’ PURSE 103
‘I AM SITTING AT YOUR FEET’ 119
MEIN HERR’S FAIRY-FRIENDS 163
‘HOW CALL YOU THE OPERA?’ 178
SCHOLAR-HUNTING: THE PURSUED 188
SCHOLAR-HUNTING: THE PURSUERS 189
THE EGG-MERCHANT 197
STARTING FOR BRUNO’S PICNIC 230
‘ENTER THE LION’ 236
‘WHIHUAUCH! WHIHUAUCH!’ 242
‘NEVER!’ YELLED TOTTLES 248
BRUNO’S BED-TIME 265
‘LONG CEREMONIOUS CALLS’ 266
THE VOICES 267
‘HIS SOUL SHALL BE SAD FOR THE SPIDER’ 268
LORDS OF THE CREATION 271
‘WILL YOU NOT SPARE ME?’ 277
IN THE CHURCH-YARD 291
A FAIRY-DUET 304
THE OTHER PROFESSOR FOUND 317
‘HER IMPERIAL HIGHNESS IS SURPRISED!’ 326
‘HE THOUGHT HE SAW AN ELEPHANT’ 335
AN EXPLOSION 345
‘A CANNOT SHAK’ HANDS WI’ THEE!’ 350
THE OTHER PROFESSOR’S FALL 352
‘TEACHING TIGRESSES TO SMILE’ 365
‘HORRID WAS THAT PIG’S DESPAIR!’ 367
THE FATAL JUMP 369
‘BATHING CROCODILES IN CREAM’ 371
‘THAT PIG LAY STILL AS ANY STONE’ 372
‘STILL HE SITS IN MISERIE’ 373
‘BLESSED BY HAPPY STAGS’ 377
THE OLD BEGGAR’S RETURN 382
‘PORCUPINE!’ 388
‘GOOD-NIGHT, PROFESSOR!’ 398
‘HIS WIFE KNELT DOWN AT HIS SIDE’ 404
THE BLUE LOCKET 409
‘IT IS LOVE!’ 411

SYLVIE AND BRUNO
CONCLUDED.