bless you, my dear sir, God bless you!" was all he said. Miss Eliza instantly took her knitting in her hand, but she did not attempt to knit; the needles looked four times the size they generally did, and as for the silk, why it was all colors and quite confused! She laid it down with a jerk. "Dora must not be allowed to take her out in the sun again," she tried to say, and then her fan and pocket-handkerchief rolling out of her lap, she got up quickly and dabbed a kiss on the squire's cheek. "Law! bless my soul, Eliza!" he cried in astonishment, and then he began blowing his nose also very vigorously. It was strange to see how she and her mother kept their changed places; Mrs. Aylmer grew to be afraid of no one, and Joyce still clung to her mother in any difficulty like a child. But stranger still was the squire's conduct. He, who once had been so passionate, and who could brook no opposition, was now so gentle, not only in his own home but everywhere, that no one ceased talking of it. One Sunday, a little boy, forgetting the manners of the Aylmer tenants, pushed out of the west door before the squire had passed. His mother tried to pull him back, but the squire, laying his hand on the child's head, said, "No, no, let him come. Fine little man! Good little man! Whose boy is it?" 66 Hodges', please, sir," said the woman, with a curtsey. Hodges had been gardener at the Hall for twenty years, but none of his children had ever dared to look in at the gardens, and had run for their lives if they had seen the squire anywhere about. "Oh, Hodges', is he? Fond of apples, my boy? Must tell your father to give you some. Hope you are kind to him, Mrs. Hodges; can't be too kind to children, you know," patting the boy's head again as he walked off. 66 Strange, too, was the sudden reappearance of the family among them again. Miss Eliza was the only one unchanged. "She was too much of an Aylmer for that," some of the country folk said approvingly. The whole ire of the place fell on Mrs. Aylmer for having left Aylmer without one of the name in it for a year. "A curse will fall on the family," said one old man, who dedicated his children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren to the service of an Aylmer long before they could even speak. "A curse will “And if he did,” said Margaret Silverfall on the family, see if it don't. My dale, the oldest woman in the village, comeyes shall be closed before then, but falling down the churchyard path, "is it you, it will," and he rapped his stick prophetically. "He ought not to have given us a wife from down south," one neighbor of a more revolutionary turn of mind said. "The squire, he would never have left us, but she always was a weakly-looking thing. And now as for Miss Joyce, why, she never rides or hunts as she used, and she looks as altered there it's just all that travelling and leaving home, and that comes from a southerner being put at the head of us." Joyce did not ride or hunt, it is true, for her constitution had received such a shock, she never became really strong; but her mind was restored, and, very mercifully, the whole of her illness and its cause she never referred to again. That part of her life was completely a blank to her. Well, I never!" said one woman. "What has come to him? I remembers the time when he hated children; and how he did curse and swear at them, too, to be sure!" Mary Fenton, to judge him? There ain't another family the whole country round to come near them, and 'honor to whom honor is due,' I say." She walked slowly down the path leaning on her stick, and though her words were strong her heart was sad, for she could not bear to see the family that once had been so bright and powerful, come down now to one heiress; and that heiress so frail and unlike an Aylmer. All the five voices in this tale are hushed now. Henry Cotterville's was the first to be hushed. He married as his mother wished, but he did not live many years after his marriage. It was neither a happy nor an unhappy one. He bore his disappointment about Joyce very philosoph ically, and in talking of it to a friend one day said, "It was really a peculiarly un pleasant business, for there was no doubt about it the poor girl was uncommonly fond of me, but it would have been too awkward, you know, to have had a wife liable to go mad." Mrs. Aylmer and her daughter outlived the squire and Miss Eliza many years; and they lived so happily together that death did not divide them, for Joyce died the same year her mother did. Here we looked forward to getting a glimpse of the boundless sea of sand, snake-charmers, dervishes, and other Arabian wonders. L'homme propose, however, and on our arrival at Algiers I received a pressing summons to go at once far inland to Aïn Khenchela from the wife of M. Wolff, the commandant supérieur of an immense "circle" of administration which stretches from Khenchela due south to Every one's life forms a history; but the extreme limits at which the flag of the pages written in this world, whether France has been hoisted. The general long or short, are but the preface to the represented that at best at Biskra we life which is eternal. And to each pref- should only see a Frenchified oasis, and, ace the word Finis must sooner or later | further, that the snake-charmers, dancers, be written. The Finis to the old music and other gentry of the kind were a very book before me is written to a plaintive spurious article seized with no epileptic little song called "A Dieu." And with frenzies, but "got up to ensnare the these two simple words I leave Joyce British tourist, and turned on like the Aylmer. water-tap, as occasion demanded, for a few francs. The general offered to take us with him under military escort for a three weeks' tour which he was about to make amongst some of the tribes under his administration; and during our trip we were to visit curious oases, Roman remains, etc. In short, we were offered a chance which we should never again get in our lives of seeing the real Sahara. From Good Words. A RIDE IN THE GREAT SAHARA. FIRST PAPER. THERE is an epidemic which is very apt to seize members of my learned profes sion towards the end of March. It has been given no generic name by the medical faculty, but it generally manifests itself in an almost irresistible feverish longing to cast away the law-books, the wig, and the gown, and to follow the swallows in search of sunshine and novelty. In March, 1890, I succumbed to a rather severer attack than usual of the malady, and, having secured a compagnon de voyage, I started on the twentieth of the month to get cured of my fever. Our present plan was to go straight to Algeria and to spend our vacation there. The country is one of the most fascinating in the world, as well on account of its climate, scenery, and fine vegetation, as of its Roman remains which are almost everywhere to be found in fine preservation. It is easily reached from Marseilles by a very fine line of steamers which run straight to Algiers. The steamboat service along the coast is good, and, in addition to a railway running from Oran on the west to Tunis on the east, there are numerous lines which branch off the main line and run south into the heart of the country. The enterprising Mr. Cook has exploited all its known regions, and has even stretched his octopus-like arms as far south as Biskra, an oasis on the edge of the great Sahara. Taking advantage accordingly of the opportunity, we started off as fast as we could for our new destination. We steamed to Boujie, and from thence drove through the far-famed pass of Chabet-el-Akhra to that uniquely situated town Constantine. At a junction a few miles from this town we got into a train which carried us by a curious zigzagging narrow-gauge line over great table lands which afford grazing for countless flocks and herds, and upon which were encamped at intervals Bedouin Arabs. A day's journey brought us to Aïn Beida, a military outpost, and another day to Aïn Khenchela. This town, which the reader will find on his map, is half French and half Arab, and is placed in a depression in the chain of the Aures Mountains at a height of from three thousand to four thousand feet above the sealevel. Here, roughly speaking, may be said to end the Tell, or the first region into which Algeria is said to be divided, and the immense country which stretches to the edge of the great Sahara, and over which we were about to journey, is known as the second region, or the hauts plateaux. Our host's military command includes the control of what is known as the Bureau Arabe, which is established at all the strategical points of the country, and which forms the machinery by which the French control the whole of Algeria. The administration is carried on by a central bureau at Algiers, divisional bureaux, and bureaux of circles. Under the command of each bureau of a circle, such as our host administered, there is a caïd, generally of princely Arab blood, who is responsible for the order of the tribes in the particular circle, and who is assisted by a khalifa, a cadi, and by the sheiks or chiefs of the countless tribes in the circle. It will thus be seen how anxious and onerous are the duties of a commandant supérieur. While the caïd and his subordinates are responsible for good order and payment of tribute by the tribes, the commandant has to watch the conduct of his subordinates, to win their confidence, decide quarrels between the French and the Arabs, and generally to do all in his power to strengthen and consolidate the power of the French government. For these purposes he makes a yearly visit of inspection in some portion of the immense territory included in his circle of administration. Hence the present expedition, upon which we started on the 8th of April. occasionally much needed. Sleep was difficult the first night under canvas. Our horses neighing close to our tents around which they were tethered, dogs barking, jackals screaming, all combined to keep off nature's sweet restorer, and we seemed to fall asleep in the small hours only to be awakened by a strange, dirge-like sound rising and falling, which turned out to be the early service of the caïd and his harem, who were reciting passages from the Koran. The camp was now stirring, and, mounting the Arab horse allotted to each of us, we started south, and from this point entered new country so far as any published map is concerned. We were a goodly cavalcade. Led by our caïd and his brother, with their attendant cavaliers all splendidly mounted on pure-bred Arabs, and by our general and his officers, the rear was brought up by the spahis, or native cavalry, and muleteers with mules to carry tents, provisions, etc. There was a bright sun, and a bitterly cold wind blowing from the snow-capped Aures on our right, and our journey lay over great ridges and ranges of mountains with not a blade of grass or a shrub of more importance than a stray juniper plant two feet high. Occasionally, where there happened to be some moisture in the ground, we found barley growing. The country reminded me of nothing so much as the high tops of the hills in Invernessshire which one knows when shooting ptarmigan. There was no sign of life save an occasional flight of partridges flushed by our caravan, or a bustard hanging like a speck over the desolate mountains. The caravan was to be made up at the bordj, or fortress of the Caïd Si Belk hassem, head of the tribe of Ouled Rechaich, a part of the confederation of Nememcha. This caïd was to accompany us while we passed through his "king. dom," and, jointly with our general, he arranged the commissariat, providing tents, horses, provisions, etc. He is a man of great intelligence, extremely handsome with his fine eyes and noble carriage, and speaks excellent French. In his silk burnous and gorgeously embroidered turban he looked an ideal Arab After some five hours' riding we saw a chief. He entertained us right royally in white object in the distance, which turned his palace at a never ending dinner à out to be the general's tent, pitched as if l'arabe, cooked in his harem, and at which by magic, and containing a breakfast fit we were introduced to the two national for an epicure, and which had been predishes of "cous-cous" and the "diffa." pared for our arrival by the muleteers and The former is the chief food of every cooks who preceded us, starting in the wandering Arab, and consists of a semo- small hours. The tent was pitched amidst lina of hard wheat placed on a perforated the ruins of a Roman city whose name is dish, and cooked by steam ascending from unknown, but which has been christened another vessel beneath containing meat Enchir Titten by the Arabs. It is situand vegetables, and it is served with sourated in a remarkably strong position, commilk. The "diffa" is a young lamb manding the access to a mighty plain roasted whole, and turned for three hours over a spit in the open air over a charcoal fire. It is served up whole, and you are expected to tear off the pieces of meat you fancy with your fingers. My friend and I had a very spacious tent, and as we each had a canteen we could take lots of clothes, which were from which passes one of the tracks to the great Sahara. Truly these Romans knew what they were about when they chose their strategical positions, using them also as heliographic stations. After a rest we continued our march over great rugged rifts and mountains, and enjoyed splendid views of the Aures on the right and the Plaine de Garel on the left; and at about 5 P.M. we reached the site of another Roman city called Aïn Roumi by the Arabs, and amidst great massive blocks of stone standing on end, doorways, and old walls, we found our tents all ready pitched for us. Here we visited an old Roman aqueduct, which is to be repaired to convey water to the plain below. It is impossible to store water in reservoirs, the caïd told me, as two days of the scirocco, or desert wind, would completely evaporate it. The night was so bitterly cold, owing to the north wind blowing from the Aures, that we made a short sederunt of our dinner, sitting huddled up in great coats and rugs, and were nearly petrified all night in our camp beds. This, however, was to be our last cold night for some time to come, and next morning we defiled under a glorious hot sun mainly over the same bare plains and mountains, and arrived for breakfast at the remains of a once mighty Roman city. It is named by the Arabs Enchir Gourçats, and is of the fourth century. We found the remains of a Christian church, a great slab of red stone with the cross and dove and the vine beautifully carved upon it; and also a triumphal arch dedicated to the Emperors Valens and Valentinius (A.D. 370). All these Roman towns date from the second to the fourth century, and their destruction is due to Genseric, king of the Vandals, who landed in Africa in A.D. 429, and destroyed nearly all the Roman fortresses. While walking through the ruins I picked up pottery and old coins of all sizes which had been lying crumbling in the hot sand all these centuries. This town must once have been a city of great importance, proud in her temples, colonnades, and triumphal arches. Now, however, she presents a pathetic picture of departed glory, the stunted grass and sand vying with one another as to which is to cover up the ruins. Our halt for the night was to be at Sidi Abid, and as we pursued our journey thither we saw in the distance three horsemen galloping like the wind to meet us. They proved to be the sheik of the tribe at Sidi Abid and his two cavaliers. He was a splendid old fellow, dressed in red burnous, white turban, and red leggings, and his raven beak, fine dark eyes, and white beard gave him the appearance of a man born to command. When about one hundred yards from us he jumped off his white horse, which he handed to his cava liers, and advanced to salute the caïd and the general, touching with his hand their hands and clothes and then raising his hand to his lips. He then remounted, and placing himself at the head of our party he escorted us into an extraordinary village formed in the rocks, out of which we saw women and children peeping at us. This district is watered by the Foum Guentis, and we amused ourselves with fishing for barbeau, or barbel, which ran from a quarter to one pound in weight, and which were caught in a primitive manner by a long stick with a cord attached to it and a baited hook and a float. Next morning we started for a very interesting day's march. We were still at an altitude of three thousand feet, and our route lay over the same rocky, burnt-up plateaux. Our path, if path it could be called, was made by the French soldiers as a highway to the oasis of Negrine, which lay to our east in the Sahara. It was, however, but a track, and a very dangerous one, now literally open on either side to frightful precipices, now carved out of the massive rock which rose up on either side to a great height. Here we found ourselves climbing down a deep ravine, there struggling up a steep stratum of rocks, the surface of which, heated by the fierce sun, had been planed as smooth and as slippery as ice. At last we reached the Plateau de Brileau (about the thirtyfifth parallel), and, as the general had chosen to halt here for breakfast, we were able at our leisure to gaze upon the stupendous prospect which lay below us. Rising up from the great desert we saw a great range of sphinx-like mountains, called the rocks of Zekron, rearing up their crests from an immense depth of heat and mist. They were absolutely bare of vegetation and were, as it were, scarified in a formation of symmetrical straight lines by the ever-burning sun. The weirdness of their shapes and forms was intensified by their pink and red color, which made them seem as if they were blushing for a sun whose unrelenting fury could transform them into such eerie shapes. Stretching away from the base of these monsters, as far as the eye could see, there rolled the great Sahara — a plain of irregular sand, vast and melancholy like an ocean. As we had a dangerous and arduous march to make to reach our night quarters, we had to tear ourselves from this most wondrous scene. The sun was now shining vertically with great force over these fearsome and thirsty valleys, down which we had to crawl. One had to stick to one's horse like a leech, and felt that a single false step would dash horse and rider into eternity. The little horses, however, which we rode are wonderfully sure-footed and must be left to themselves. They have their own way of climbing, like cats, up precipitous rocks, and walking down steps carved out of slippery and calcined marble, down which a human being would crawl on his hands and knees. Both horses and men were thoroughly tired out when we reached Riran bou Dokhan, a curious hole in a sort of rocky dune, the village of a tribe who water their flocks at the Oued (river) bou Dokhan. Fishing in this swiftly flowing and limpid stream, one could scarcely realize that some fifty kilos farther south it would lose itself in the sand and cease to exist. Next day, starting betimes, we passed a place where a number of poor Kabyles in the last rising had escaped from the mountains and had dragged themselves down to die of thirst, little knowing that a few kilos farther south there were wells of water in abundance. At last we reached the gates of the great Sahara. It consists of great zones of flat, hard sand, upon which one could have a lawn-tennis tournament for the whole world zones of broken, rocky sand, zones of soft, powdery sand, and dunes of sand. Owing to the rains, which had been exceptionally heavy in the spring, we saw a sight seldom seen, and which made one realize what a country Africa would be if only the rains came down in spring and autumn regularly as they do with us. The desert was clothed in a robe de fête, and was literally ablaze as far as the eye could see with the myriad colors of countless wild flowers, which seemed to have caught the glory of the African sun. Every few hours of our march we met caravans in charge of strange-looking men, coming with their camels loaded with merchandise from the Soudan. The men invariably came up and saluted our caïd, and formed a truly picturesque enlivenment in our hot and arduous journey. As we neared our halt for breakfast, Oglat Trudi, the sheik of the tribes who were watering their flocks there, came out with his cavaliers to salute us. He was walking with his hand on the bridle of the general's horse when he suddenly darted forward, striking with a heavy stick a long snake, which made off along the sand at great speed. This was our first sight of the vipère cornue, a very dangerous rep. tile, whose bite proves fatal if not promptly and most energetically treated. One of the spahis drew his sabre and cut it to pieces, and showed us the peculiar horns over the brute's eyes, which give it its name. We expected to see many large and curious snakes, but owing to the rainy spring we were, perhaps luckily for us, ten days too soon for them, although we saw a good many specimens of the horned viper, and of a very large and dangerous lizard. The heat here was so intense that after breakfast we were ordered to our tents, and we lay gasping on our beds, in very scanty raiment, till the sun being lower in the horizon we again started off. On arrival at Bir Djahli, between the thirty-fifth and thirty-sixth parallels, on the route to the great oases of Negrine and Ferkhane, we found a large portion of the tribes of Ouled Rechaich, under our caïd's caïdate, encamped with their flocks and herds, their tents being irregularly pitched and surrounded on every side by camels, sheep, goats, poultry, and dogs. I was lucky enough to secure some photographs of the interiors of these tents (truly wretched abodes), the general kindly stopping the caravan and directing the spahis to draw their sabres and keep off the great, savage, yellow watch-dogs while I got to work. The male Bedouin is a dignifiedlooking, if dirty, specimen of humanity, but he is lazy and useless, the drudgery of keeping the tent and looking after the beasts being, for the most part, done by his two or three wives. These women are married at twelve years of age, when they are dark and good-looking. They generally wear red or blue dresses, and huge earrings in their ears. At about twenty years of age, however, they become haggard and hideous. The tribes, as here, always take advantage of spots where there is some alluvial deposit brought down by the rivers which descend from the Aures, and which die in the desert, where they form a sort of delta. This delta would be as fertile as that of the Nile if the rivers, which descend in torrents after storms, did not dry up so quickly, or if the heavens regularly sent down in spring and autumn the rains which our spahis called "la bénédiction d'Allah." In a good year, such as 1890, the crops give an extraordinary yield. The caïd told me that a single seed will yield five hundred ears of barley. Every drop of rain is then worth its weight in gold. As soon as the general's tent is set up it is surrounded by some forty or fifty swarthy Arabs, who squat on the sand outside in front of the tent door. The "reclamation now begins. At first, a |