"It shall go into their place after we've left," he decided, "the sight of us from the old home has cheered them up a bit, and after we've gone again, they'll feel a little downhearted, and it will do them the more good. Do you think they would like a goose, Kirsty?"

"'Deed and I do," said the girl, "but, Master Tom, it will cost a lot o' money in the town."

"I can manage that," answered Tom, who had been looking through his purse, and going over some rapid mental calcula tions which he did not expound to Kirsty. "And a few oranges will be nice for the sick man, he can take one when his wife isn't at home to give him tea - there's more fruit in Lerwick just now than there is generally, because Christmas is so near. And don't you think it would be a good idea to send one of those little shortcakes with "A happy New Year" printed on it in sugar plums? That will give a sort of good grace to all the rest, won't it, Kirsty ?"

His rapid suggestions, which seemed so sumptuous in her eyes, nearly took Kirsty's breath away, but she got into the spirit of the thing, and made a shrewd market of the goose, and a good selection among the shortcake. Oranges she did not know so much about, having only tasted two or three in her life, so Tom gave her one or two to put in her pocket for the voyage. He got all his commodities gathered in the grocer's shop, whose kindly master seemed quite to enter into the situation, and promised that the parcel should be sent faithfully to the address which Tom wrote on the outside of an envelope, on whose inside he put, "This is something to cook over the peats out of the new cashie, with Tom Ollison's love."

They walked the whole tortuous length of the queer chief street, and ascertained that they could have a share of a boat which was to take some people from the principal hotel to the ship. As they had seen nothing of Robert Sinclair, it occurred to Tom to ask the waiter if he knew who these people were, and the answer he got was that the gentlemen was "the new man that had got Wallness

The boat was to start within an hour, and they would just have time to go back to the Laurensens to bid them good-bye. They were both a little mysterious over their secret, so that Mrs. Laurensen said to her husband that she wondered what that girl Kirsty was giggling at, and she hoped that Mr. Tom had had things as he liked them, for he seemed rather quiet like. But half an hour later Peter and his wife understood all about it. And Mrs. Laurensen said,

66

Now, Peter, that's the sort o' folk that ought to be rich."

And Peter replied with a quiet chuckle, "Giving away as you go along isn't the way to get rich, Kate. Leastways, if riches means lots o' money."

When Kirsty and Tom reached the boat they found they had not been mistaken about Robert Sinclair. He was with Mr. Brander and Miss Henrietta. And as they sat in the little vessel, rocking in the darkness, while Mr. Brander fussed about his luggage, Robert left the young lady and came to their end of the boat, to whisper that he had been invited to join them at their hotel dinner, and that Mr. Brander seemed to make sure that he would travel in their part of the boat, and that he really thought he might do so, seeing that their hospitality had already spared his cash a little. It was really a great thing to get a chance of being friendly with such people. hadn't originally meant to travel firstclass, he had half hoped to get Tom to join him in the humbler part of the ship (he said this, rightly guessing that Tom's allowance and marching orders would permit him to do what he liked either way). It would not be a very great extravagance, for the Branders, though they lived in London, were to stop in Edinburgh, where where they would remain till after the new year came in, and after they were gone, Robert could resume his original plan.

He

"I'm going to travel in the steerage," said Tom, rather drily. For this was the economy on which he had resolved to straighten his accounts after his little beneficences.

"Are you doing this out of sheer contradiction, Tom?" asked Robert, feeling somewhat nettled.

tic.

Interviewers have not altogether their own way, for biographers are encroaching on their wide domain. They used to content themselves with writing about the dead. It was thought to be very bad form when a great man was dying for a biographer to rush about with his stew. pan, collecting details of the life and actions of ce cher agonisant.. He now frolics about with his stewpan, in order to present the lives of living heroes to a disgusted world. It is needless to observe how untrue and dull such a work generally is. The life of a fly would be more interesting. It is pleasant to turn from such worthless rubbish to the "Life of Ralph Bernal Osborne," which Mr. Philip Bagenal has just written, for our instruction as well as for our amusement. It is at present for "private circulation" only, but its merits must shortly bring it before the public.

Ralph Bernal was the son of Mr. Bernal, chairman of committees in the House of Commons, and the celebrated collec tor of works of art. We will begin our extracts from the life at the time that Ralph Bernal was at Cambridge.

By nature fond of society and of personal intercourse with men, he was unrivalled as a boon companion, and at wine parties his voice was always ready with a song, or in repartee. We find him also taking part in theatricals, and playing Captain Absolute in a representation of the " 'Rivals," with great success.

His father, Mr. Bernal, would apparently have been a success in the part of Sir Antony, for one morning Mr. Ralph Bernal received a letter informing him that a commission had been provided for him in the 71st Regiment. Ralph Bernal was not consulted on the choice of a profession. "Did not I," says Sir Antony to his ungrateful son, "put you at twelve years of age into a marching regiment?"

that of Lord Panmure, an old Carthusian. A Among the houses at which he visited was story told by him in after life gives a curious glimpse of Highland habits fifty years ago. On coming out of the dining-room after dinner at Lord Panmure's Bernal noticed two stalwart Highlanders in full costume. On enquiring what they were stationed there for, he was told that they were always posted near to carry the guests up to bed.

Bernal's readiness. The Colonel and officers Lady C tells a story about this time of of the 71st Regiment were lunching at Lord C's beautiful place near Dundee. Bernal's task was to carve a pigeon pie. It happened that the Colonel's name was Pigeon, against whom Bernal had an old grudge.

Accordingly he at once turned to Mrs. Pigeon, and offering to help her, remarked audaciously, "Do you like Pigeon? I don't."

Ralph Bernal exchanged into the 7th Fusileers, which was ordered to Ireland. He seems to have been as disappointed with the Channel as Oscar Wilde was with the Atlantic Ocean, and probably for the same reason. Ralph Bernal was a very bad sailor.

After three weeks knocking about the Channel the ship was obliged to put back, and when they arrived at Spithead it was reported to headquarters that the scurvy or itch had broken out amongst the men. The report was returned, with the following jocose minute attached: "The 7th must scratch on." officers of the Fusiliers held an indignant meeting to consider the affront, and the result was that the major sent a challenge to the acting adjutant at Portsmouth, but with what result history does not relate.

The

When Ralph Bernal arrived in Ireland, Lord Haddington was viceroy, but he was soon succeeded by Lord Mulgrave, afterwards Marquis of Normanby. The public entrance of the new lord lieutenant took place on June 6, 1835. Lord Mulgrave, attired in a light-blue button-up

surtout, with heavy velvet collar, and white duck riding trousers, rode a showy charger all the way from Kingston to Dublin, amidst loud acclamations. The Tories were furious against him, and branded him with the name of "Timour the Tartar." Lord Mulgrave's graceful manners were modelled on those of Charles Kemble. Lord Morpeth was the 'chief secretary, and his expressive features closely resembled those of Liston. We recollect an H. B. caricature in which there were portraits of the two, and certainly the resemblance was striking. Some d- -d good-natured friend showed it to Lord Morpeth, who of course laughed at it. "It is all very well for you laugh," said his tormentor, "but Liston is deucedly annoyed."

to

Ralph Bernal was appointed extra aide-de-camp to Lord Mulgrave. Mr. Bagenal informs us that the court of Lord Mulgrave was famous for its brilliance and dissipation, and was frequently compared to the court of Charles the Second.

Lord Mulgrave used to ride about the streets and squares of Dublin, accompanied by a brilliant escort. He attended the Theatre Royal frequently. Scanning the circles with his lorgnette from the viceregal box to see who were present, he would despatch an aide-decamp between the acts with invitations to a petit souper, and at these pleasant entertainments the most beautiful women and the wittiest men in Dublin were to be found. The charming daughter of "Pamela," Lady Guy Campbell, on such an occasion shed the lustre of her beauty and wit upon the scene, while Bernal and Sheridan especially shone, singing Moore's melodies without accompaniment while sitting round the table, or engaging each

other in some battle of humor.

Frank Sheridan, Mrs. Norton's brother, resembled Ralph Bernal in character. He also was a sayer of good things. It was he who made that cutting reply after the trial of Lord De Ros to a spiteful person, who said, "I would leave my card on him, only I am afraid he would mark it." "That would depend," answered Frank Sheridan, "as to whether he would consider it an honor." Frank Sheridan was now a member of Lord Mulgrave's house

hold.

With Frank Sheridan he was always to be seen arm-in-arm, and these two concerted many a political and literary scheme together. Once they nearly carried a practical joke too far, by sending a card of invitation for a party at the Castle without permission, and the result was a somewhat disagreeable fracas. Even amongst his own friends Bernal's incorrigible taste for

ridicule brought him into some trouble. The massive John Massey Stanley had been one day assailed somewhat too persistently by Bernal's banter, and at last, losing his temper, said, "I'll tell you what it is, Ralph. God Almighty has been very equal in the distribution of His gifts; He has given you a tongue, and He has given me a leg. Now, the next time you use the tongue, I'll use the leg."

Ralph Bernal once sent a play to a London manager, but it was of course returned. We wonder what becomes of the manuscripts of rejected plays. We should think some of them must be very amusing. A friend of ours, a worthy clergyman, was very indignant when his play in five acts was not accepted. It ought to have been more appreciated, as the commencement of it was, "Scene, a Forest Glade. Enter a chorus of Hermits!"

The gay court of the lord lieutenant did not prevent Captain Bernal from continu. ing his literary efforts, and he wrote a poem, called "The Chaunt of Achilles," in which there are sketches of the leaders of society as they appeared in Hyde Park in the year 1838.

We give two extracts.

Patting the crest of his well-manag'd steed,
Proud of his action, D'Orsay vaunts the breed ;
A coat of chocolate, a vest of snow,
Well brushed his whiskers, as his boots be-
low;

A short-napped beaver, prodigal in brim,
With trousers tighten'd to a well-turned limb;
O'er play, o'er dress extends his wide domain,
And Crockford trembles when he calls a main.

We were present when "all London," then a very small place, was assembled at the Olympic Theatre to see a vaudeville in which it was whispered Liston was going to personate Count D'Orsay. Liston, dressed by the count's own tailor,

was an exact imitation of the celebrated

dandy. The roars of laughter at this performance were never equalled, except Lowe, and Mr. Ayrton appeared on the perhaps when the "Grand Old Man,” Mr. boards of the Court Theatre in "Happy Land," for "three nights only."

Wilton's pale Countess, of her lineage proud, Urges her phaeton thro' the admiring crowd; Diana's self could scarcely match the team, That fairy body, and those steeds of cream! Whilst on his switch-tail'd bay, with wand'ring

eye

Attenuated Wilton canters by;
His character how difficult to know,
A compound of psalm-tunes and Tally-ho!
A forward rider, half-inclined to preach,
Tho' not disposed to practice as to teach,
An amorous lover, with the saintly twist,
And now a sportsman, now an organist.

Bernal Osborne always appreciated the great talents of Lord Beaconsfield, even Before they were recognized by the general public. Smug Peter" was Mr. Peter Borthwick, from North Britain, one of the founders of Mr. Disraeli's new party, which Lord Macaulay once said was the most singular one he ever heard of, for though it was called " Young England," its leaders were an elderly Scotchman and a middle-aged Jew.

In 1841 a deputation from the town of Wycombe arrived in London, in search of a Radical candidate. Lord Lansdowne, whose family had been connected with Wycombe, was applied to, and he recommended Captain Ralph Bernal, who was then talking politics at the Reform Club, with a few hundred pounds in his pocket ready to be invested in an electioneering campaign. To storm Wycombe seemed to most people a desperate undertaking, and Captain Bernal was talked of at the clubs "as the fool who thought he could beat Lord Carrington."

The first Lord Carrington was Mr. Robert Smith, the friend of Pitt, an eminent banker, and in spite of the prejudices of George the Third, Mr. Pitt insisted on his elevation to the peerage. He must have been a man of very sterling qualities, for in after life he enjoyed the friendship of the Duke of Wellington, who made him governor of Deal Castle.

In the middle of the High Street of Wycombe there is a long blank wall, with a modest-looking door at one end of it, which was and is always kept securely locked. It led then, as it does now, into the park which surrounded the old family mansion known as the Abbey, and through it came many a Parliamentary representative of Wycombe.

We fancy this was the door on which Canning, when staying with Lord Carrington, chalked in honor of his friend :Bob Smith liveth here, Billy Pitt made him a Peer,

And took his pen from behind his ear! Lord Carrington died in 1838, and his son now was lord of Wycombe, and he had selected as candidates, that awful being the family solicitor, Mr. James Freshfield, and Mr. Alexander, a West Indian merchant.

accompanied by his friend Frank SheriThe arrival of Captain Bernal, of course dan, was naturally the cause of grave uneasiness to these worthy gentlemen. Captain Bernal rattled his jokes about the family solicitor's head in a manner that must have appalled that excellent man of solicitor to the Bank of England, and had business. Mr. James Freshfield was also he would probably have lost his place. never said a good thing in all his life, else

He therefore was no match for his merciless assailant. In fact, the poor man was talked and squibbed out of the town, and Captain Bernal was returned, and became for a time the lion of the Reform Club. Captain Bernal had succeeded where Mr.

Disraeli had thrice failed.

Captain Bernal's first speech in Parliawhen an amendment was moved which ment was in the debate on the address, He followed Mr. Disraeli, and attacked put an end to the Melbourne government. him sharply on his changeable politics. Mr. Disraeli and Bernal Osborne, though politically opposed, were excellent friends, and they were both enthusiastic in the cause of Jewish emancipation. Once, Disraeli wrote the following letter to his after a speech of Bernal Osborne's, Mr.

friend:

MY DEAR OSBORNE, -I have been disappointed in not seeing you these last few days past. I wished to have said something about your speech, for writing on such matters is a trifle too formal. I think it is, without exception, your most considerable effort, and a very successful one. I have no doubt it will advance and assure your position. There was indeed only one opinion on our side about it, as their great attention, and even cheers, must have convinced you. For my own part, I yours was not drawn at my right hand. always regret that, instead of crossing sabres, much touched by your unexpected reference to my father. Yours sincerely,

I was

D.

Captain Bernal in 1844 had married Miss Osborne, the daughter of Sir Thomas