Imatges de pÓgina

saws, I should say. They are sawing my young rogue intersperses his professional heart in twain. I shudder at the shrill, chant with catcalls suggestive of the threescreaming, ceaseless whirr. I can hear the penny gallery, and with refrains culled from innocent planks screaming as the merciless the anthology of the music- halls. Iron teeth eat into their very marrow. I can hoops again-hoops are “in” just nowsee-in imagination—the clouds of sawdust especially when the conductor rattles a rising around. Oh! he can saw his planks whole gamut of noises on the metallic into the most symmetrical curves, and the circle with a metallic rod, make a detestable most shapely beadings, no doubt; but I noise. A hansom cab at full speed over should like to be behind that saw, with a freshly laid macadam is an abomination; hammer. And yet, how strange are likings and under any circumstances the noise and dislikings! With circular saw on the made by a railway carrier's van is wellbrain, I rush to the front of the house, nigh unbearable. desperate ; but there, oddly enough, I ex- There can be very little difference of perience no nervous discomfort when I opinion, I should say, as to the repulsivehear the costermonger crying his “fine ness of the sounds made by the tearing of savoys,” his turnips and his carrots. I calico, the creaking of doors, the passing shudder not, when the donkey-man who of a wet finger over silk, the endeavour to sells fish expatiates in prolonged bawl on remove an obstinate glass stopper from a the virtues of his fresh cod and “fine bottle, or the scraping of slate-pencil. Concheap soles.” The sweep is rather a melo- cerning sounds the bare thought of which dions person than otherwise, with an excel is sufficient to set your teeth on edge, it is lent baritone voice. The four o'clock not necessary to say much more. The “ tunmuffin-woman, with her tinkling bell, fills ing up” of stringed instruments in an orme with comfort and joy. I could tolerate chestra is likewise obviously disagreeable the milkman if he cried his wares in an to any person having an ear for music; honest and rational fashion ; but the manyet Donizetti the famous composer, whose who comes at three o'clock utters a caco- brother was “maître d'orchestre” to the phonous cry sounding like " Yahoop;" and Sultan Mahmoud, used to relate that the the milkwoman, who is due at three-thirty cacophonous scraping of “the bowels of -she is presumably of Welsh extraction, the cat with the hair of the horse," was the and has a pair of legs like the balustrades musical performance in which the Comin the background of a carte de visite-puts mander of the Faithful was wont to take her arms akimbo, and in accents as gruff the greatest delight. As regards other as those of a corporal-majoi in the Life musical noises, the point of their being Guards, says “Cuckoo !” Now" yahoop” agreeable or the reverse may be conand “cuckoo !” have nothing, I surmise, sidered moot. I decline to offer any dogin common with “Milk O!” I am wait- matical opinion concerning organ grinding. ing for “afternoon cresses !” a pretty in. There are times when the worst ground nocent noise, when I am driven to the back organ discourses, to me, most sweet sounds, of my residence again by the diabolical and I could embrace the brown instruscreech of the knife-grinder's wheel--as mentalist from Genoa as my long lost dire an infliction in its way as the circular brother. There are other seasons when I saw. The wretch with the wheel—he will could sally forth into the street in my be Ixion I hope some day—who infests my slippers ; shake the instrumentalist out neighbourhood, is an orator, forsooth ; and of his brown velveteen jacket and his instead of succinctly delivering himself of senses at one and the same time, and dehis message to the community launches liver him over to the tormentors, in default into a long round running, “Ave you hany of his immediately moving on.

The same knives, scissors, razors, penknives, table may be said of German bands. Whether himplements to grind, or heven humberellas you like a German band in London or to mend O!" and a murrain on him ! detest it, depends to a great extent on a

“ Injins,” the American humorist has first cause actuating two other causes. The remarked, “is pison.” Let me note a few primary is the weather, which influences noises which, to my sense, are more deleteri- your liver, the state of which reacts upon ous than Red Indians, strychnine, or hydrate your temper. The result is occasionally a of choral. Newsboys are “pison.” I must state of excitement on that side despair, e'en buy the newspaper on Sunday morn- and on this side homicide. ing—but I hate the vendor. The key of The sound of the postman's knock is to the newsboy's voice seems to me to argue some a death knell; to others a thing of hardened, callous impudence. Moreover the joy. But some definite rules may be





laid down with respect to our friend with to lose his wife again. 'Twas Eurydice's the peremptory rat-tat. In the country the fault. The imprudent young woman had postman's knock is generally a boon ; in acquired a piano under the “ three years' town it is generally a bore. Nine young system,” and looking back for it was seized people out of ten like to hear the postman's upon by Pluto, and relegated to Tartarean knock; eleven out of a dozen of middle- shades for ever. aged people wish the General Post Office There are some very beautiful noises at and its employés at Jericho; and-now sea. The voice of the waves is to my ear that post-cards are established-at Hong always eloquent, and, moreover, even when Kong, to boot.

the sea is at its roughest, always friendly. The noise of Baby is unmistakably one It is very good on a sea voyage to linger that cannot be dogmatised upon : save to late on deck, and listen to the noise of the this extent, that to all women the cries of waters churning among the paddle-wheels; all infants are delicious. Childless men it is very good to look down into the would like to burke baby; Paterfamilias engine-room and listen to the labouring of winces under the torture, but endures it the mighty cylinders, the dull thud of the smilingly. One bachelor, indeed, I once piston-rods; the rasping of the fuel, shoknew, and a remarkably crusty bachelor he velled to and fro; the clanging of the furwas—I will call him Mr. Ferox—who pro- nace doors. That is the kind of machinery fessed to take huge delight in the uproar in motion" I like. Yet sea-life has its ugly of the nursery.

“ I like to hear babies noises. That awful yawning and creaking cry,” he would say, with a hideous grin; of every joist, and panel, and plank in “but then I like to hear a pig being killed, your cabin during a gale! That dreadful and a schoolboy being caned. They're all noise of the sailors' holystoning the deck suffering. Why do babies cry? Because at early morning! That abominable grindthey've got the stomach-ache. They're suf- ing, tumbling, grumbling screw-a giant fering, ha! ha!"

worm, which seems to be corkscrewing The noise a grand pianoforte. itself through your vitals—a worm that Humph! The point is moot again. Stay. will not die until it has propelled the good A pianoforte in your own house, or over ship to the destined haven. the way, may be tolerable. But next door, The noises of the country are so numerous, with a very thin partition-wall, and the that I should require many more pages performer yet in the rudimentary stages of than the Conductor of this journal would the valse from Faust. Horror ! With be willing to allot to me, for a bare mention

a regard to the accordion, and its sister- of one tithe of the commonest rural sounds. fiend the concertina, I can only regard But pray note this, and remember that althem as instruments of which the pos- though I may be a Goth, a Vandal, or a session should not be permitted by the Law Hun, I claim at least the merit of candour. of the Land. Nay; I regard the accordion I am not an enthusiatic admirer of the as remotely an immoral instrument. Note nightingale, and deem him, indeed, a very this, that whenever a shopboy robs the overrated songster. I prefer the blackbird ; till, or a junior clerk embezzles the petty and I would give a hundred nightingales, cash, it is invariably discovered that among if I had them, for one lark. After this it the articles purchased by the criminal from will not astonish you to be told that I think his ill-gotten funds, have been a pistol and the frog a very harmless little fellow, an accordion. To dismiss musical noises, I whose croaking is always cheerful, and is may

hazard a suspicion, that most of us have sometimes even harmonious, and that I a furtive fondness for the banjo. The truth utterly detest the much-vaunted lowing of is, that the banjo is a kind of late, and the kine. That lowing seems to me the most lute is a kind of fiddle: the most exquisite despairing moan possible of conception. It of musical instruments, and one whose seems to say, “What have we done, these notes awaken nothing but mirth, and jol- many thousands of years past, that we are lity, and sympathy, and gratitude in the never to be anything more than Beef ?” A human breast. It was upon a fiddle sheep has a brief chance of felicity as a that old Timotheus played when he made pet lamb. But nobody pets a calf.

We Alexander weep at the recital of the woes fatten him up against the time when the of Darius. It was with the sweet notes Prodigal Son shall come home. of a fiddle that Orpheus charmed the As regards pigs “ in extremis," I have brutes, and won Eurydice back from Hades. already recorded the dictum of Ferox; but It was not, as the legends idly relate, the ere the fiat has gone forth for their converretrospection of Orpheus that caused him Ision into pork, the noises of the curly-tailed


race are very comfortable to hear. In the name ?” to be surely followed by a comcottage from whose back garden you hear placent smile or laugh. the complacent grunting of Piggy, you may And nobody really agrees with the Divine be sure that the ice-pudding of starvation William on this point. The gentleman who is not the staple dish.

exchanged Bugg for “Norfolk Howard,” I hate cats, and will say nothing about did not go with the bard; and we have all either their purring, their mewing, or their rather a weakness for a fair-sounding title. swearing sounds; but, touching dogs—the But there are two classes who differ “ the majority of whose noises are much loved whole sky” from the bard (or swan), and by mankind—I think that one of the most would intrude into that delicious garden appalling, sickening and shameful sounds scene with a serious protest.

The answer it is possible to hear, is the long drawn out of the public and the publishers to the queshowl of anguish of a dog that has been tion and following explanation, “What's in kicked by some brute of a human being. a name? the rose by any other name would

There is much to be said about bells; smell as sweet,” would be bluntly that“ the but it depends very much on the character name was everything;” that all young ladies of the bell, whether we affect it or not. fling down contemptuously on the counter The school-bell gives out as disagreeable a the work that Messrs. Smiths' assistant sound to a boy as the passing-bell does to an offers, if it be furnished with a disagreeable old man. The sound of church-going bells | title. In this case, though the rose may in the country is exceedingly sweet to smell as sweet, no one will take the trouble hear. In London, church-going bells are- to smell it. I say it with all due deference-a grievous It is difficult to analyse this feeling. and a painfully increasing nuisance. Joy. Though we may be pleasant on the novelbells and wedding-bells are very nice to reading young ladies, the impression affects hear, no doubt; when you have anything even the sage and whiskered pundit. The to be joyful for, or when somebody of whom truth is, we confide, and always will conyou are very fond is going to be married. fide, in human nature. We assume that the Indeed, I have heard of folks so charitable story and its title will faithfully reflect each as to rejoice at the sound of their enemies' other. They rarely do, however, for, as a wedding-bells.

rule, when the last chapter is “knocked On the whole, considering noises broadly, off," the author devises half a dozen good I hold that the two merriest and most con- titles, one of which is chosen after experisoling sounds of common life are the squeak ment and debate; chiefly in the test of its of Punch and the clink of a blacksmith effect on the publisher, possibly a plain working at his forge. The “Rooty, tooty, man, who says “ I like that,” or “I don't tooty, toi-o-i,” means harmless, honest, un- like that at all.” The more flashy and sensophisticated gaiety :-the “sunshine of sational the better the effect. Sometimes, the breast," the lightness of heart of which in the case of a serial story, the name has not all the grim ascetics that ever preached to be selected “at the other end,” before shall ever" deprive humanity, and the the story has fairly started; but here again “ Clink, clink, clink,” the blast of the it has little relation to the subject matter, bellows, the roar of the fire, mean Work, as the title is selected before the story has cheerful, robust, productive Work, obe- been written. dient to Heaven's command, and bringing The philosophy of novel-writing might Heaven's bread.

fairly engage the speculation of a mind like that of Mr. John Stuart Mill, and with

this philosophy the theory of names is not NOVEL NAMES.

indistinctly connected. The list of writers

is now swelled to hundreds, and why the THERE is no quotation for which we feel most feeble-minded of either sex thinks he so decided a repulsion, as that well-backed or she can sit down and tell a story, and quotation, that blunt, bent, jagged old secure an audience to listen, seems incomsaw, which works laboriously, -" What's prehensible. The evil, however, will soon in a name?" Your “Foolometer" when cure itself, for where all are story-tellers, busy with the rude carpentry he calls con- the difficulty will be to find those who will versation, delights to rasp and flourish with listen. In the competition for an audience, this instrument. How many a snug, bald- titles are at a premium, and the ingenious headed, shining-faced bore has served up variety of nomenclature, as Doctor Johnthis quotation, “all hot,” as though it were son might phrase it, more than compensates à rare, even a new dish : “What's in a for other deficiencies. An analysis of a vast


mass of provender for about three or four be included in this inviting class are those months, as supplied by the most eminent titles which ring their changes on of the forage contractors to the novel-read- body's wife, as Edward's Wife, Percy's ing public, furnishes some principles in Wife, James Gordon’s Wife, which by what seems a sort of chaos, where every anticipation gives a picture of calm, conwriter appears to be plunging desperately nubial bliss. These gentlemen are certain to secure the most extravagant title he can. to turn out bookish, poetical men, worThese nomenclators are therefore compelled shipped by their ladies, but misunderstood, to range themselves under distinct cate- perhaps, and suffering in consequence. We gories, though they are perhaps not aware can almost see James Gordon and Percy of it. After all

, the description of human and Edward, one of whom at least must be emotions and actions is more or less a clergyman, preaching in a rich, full voice. founded on fixed principles, and accord. There is the Doctor's Wife to keep the ingly we find that the story-teller has a other ladies company. choice of five courses. First, he takes the Next comes something more particular, shortest and easiest, and gives his narra- and significant of the whole tone of the tive some christian name. Secondly, he story. As, Artiste, A Brave Lady, My bethinks himself of some striking situation Beautiful Lady, By Birth a Lady; and it or position in life which that character fills, is curious how a small crop of titles spring and makes a title out of that. Thirdly, up nearly the same.

Thus some one dehe bethinks him of a proverb, or of some vised Her Lord and Master, and we find proverbial expression. Fourthly, he ex- near it Her Title of Honour, and Her Own. tracts a moral warning from his book; and, Fault. We have the pleasure of knowing fifthly, becomes grotesque, and devises Lady Flora, when we find Lady Judith some fantastic sentence which is neither waiting to receive us, and should not bitter, nor moral, nor proverb, but reminds neglect Lady Wedderburn's Wish. Fair one of the advertisement, “Watch this Passions and Fairly Won_describe the frame.” Now, the first class, the simple tone of the story; so do Family Pride, christian name, is by far the most popu- Influence, Marquis and Merchant, and lar. The lady writers are specially partial Maggie's Secret. Some one thinks of My to it. Female names are particularly in Heroine, perhaps, from talking of her at favour. Thus we have Hannah, Edith, the family breakfast table, when an imitator Polly, Hetty, Patty, Fanny, Daisy Nichol, at once caps it with My Hero. The field, Dorothy Fox, Estelle Russell, Esther West, indeed, in this descriptive direction is very Anne Furness, Bessy Raine, Janie, and a vast. But we next come to what may be host more. Men are also in favour. Arthur, termed “the morally proverbial ” class. John, Hugh, Claude, with Harry Disney To this we owe Behind the Veil, Ropes of and Gerald Hastings. The places, too, Sand, Checkmate, Bitter is the Rind, where these ladies and gentlemen reside Caught in the Toils, Contraband, Far and carry on a part of their operations is Above Rubies, Gone Like a Shadow, the also found useful, and thus we are intro-Green-eyed Monster, Against Time, For duced to Drayton Hall, Durnton Abbey, Lack of Gold, and For Very Life, Schooled Earls Dene, Dene Hollow, Ashcliffe Hail, with Briars, Sentenced by Fate, RecomFerneyhurt Court, and other ancestral mended to Mercy, Broken to Harness, A residences. The House of Percival and Life's Assize; all are of the same species; the House of Elmore have more a tradi- so is Cruel as the Grave. tional interest, while the Home in Town Some titles betoken a quality, as Love has rather a metropolitan flavour. Many and Valonr, Love and Ambition, Love or explanatory titles are naturally found: the Hatred, Lovers' Vows, Love Me Little Canon's Daughters, the Agent of Broom- Love Me Long, the Lover Upon Trial, &c. warren, the Carylls, the Heir Expectant, Some one wrote a work entitled Only a the Heiress in Her Minority, the Rector's Commoner. Pendents can be found in Only Daughter, Doctor Jacob, and many more. a Woman's Hair, Only George, and Only This is a simple straightforward way of an Ensign. We have Ralph the Heir and going to work; and a number of quiet, Ralph the Bailiff in awkward but not aneasy-going readers rather relish such titles, frequently natural proximity. Baronets as being significant of something like and lords abound, Sir Harry Hotspur and what some neighbouring gossip would Sir Richard, Lord Lynne's Wife, Lord Halcome in and retail. The adventures of conberg's Heir, make genteel company, Mary and Hannah promise something who can hobnob with the Squire Arden decorous, moral, and agreeable. Fairly to and the Squire of Brudenell. Sister Martha

* can pair off with Sister Mary. Truly dreams, upon the wings of a- -BLUEBOTTLE Noble and True to Herself are of the FLY! same kind.

But we have reserved the most grotesque No position could be more painful and category for the last, which comprises in trying than that in which my mother was terrogations and bold statements. Thus left at my father's death. The small pen. we have of the first kind : Is Lady Clara sion allotted by government to officers' Dead? Will He Escape ? Ought We to widows would have been scarcely sufficient Visit Her? Of the second we have Red to maintain herself without the strictest as a Rose is She, Cometh Up as a Flower, economy, and I have often wondered at the What She Could, What Her Face Said daily miracles she must have been called (this is the drollest of all), and What She upon to perform, in order to feed and clothe Did with Her Life. Finally, we have the great idle hungry boy with whose eduwhat the novels rarely tell-How it Came cation and nourishment Providence had to Pass.

burdened her. To speak truth, I must have been a burden indeed, for I seemed

destined to thwart her hopes in every way. A BLACK FROST.

She had set her heart upon my admission No gleam of sunlight warms the leaden sky

to the dignity of office under my uncle, the With faintest tinge of gold. A murky pali O'erspreads the horizon, and with biting blast

boursicotier, and the worthy man had conThe east wind keen makes cottage casements creak, sented to try me; but as all the labour and And in the rick yard whirls the wheaten straws,

goodwill were on his side he was fain to Malignant in its sport. The farmer's boy,

dismiss me as totally unfit for the profesWith blue, pinched face, and fingers red and chill, sion. So my poor mother was compelled Plods shivering through the fields toward his home, Where ruddy fire, and bowl of porridge-milk,

to let me follow the bent of my inclination, And mother's smile, and happy childhood's shout, and become a painter, the only condition Shall herald night, and close the ungenial day. she imposed upon me being that of attendHard, bare, and black, and adamant the earth; ance at the most reputable studio in Paris. Cold, black and chill, and lustreless the sky;

This was not difficult, for everybody knew Nor man nor beast comes forth this eve tv dare The keen-toothed wind. The warren'd rabbits lie that old Rabâche, the great historical Snug in their burrows, and the ivied wall

painter, deficient in every quality which Is full of shivering, feathered fugitives ;

makes the artist, lacked not one of those The nooks and crannies of the old barn hide Sparrows, and bats, and jackdaws. Cattle crouch

which make respectability, being a worthy Close in their litter 'neath the cowhouse walls, citizen, an excellent national guard, and a And panting sheep, together packed for warmth, Bleat 'neath the red-tiled shed: the homestead cock,

punctual taxpayer. So to old Rabâche Long since, amid his dames, hath sought the perch,

was I consigned. Perhaps by this arrangeAt earliest symptom of the waning light.

ment I was made to suffer even more than Rest, warmth and rest, the whole creation seeks, And men and maids sit by the in-door hearth;

if my mother had refused to countenance Cheerless and comfortless is all without,

my pursuit of art altogether, for my soul Relentless, icy, grim, and pitiless,

was given up to nature, and I had been The iron grip of Frost is on the earth.

all my life subject to the same nervous

excitement at sight of the green fields and THE BLUEBOTTLE FLY. waving forests as I have heard portrait A FRENCH ART-STUDENT'S STORY.

painters declare seizes upon them when

ever they behold a face more lovely than IN FOUR CHAPTERS. CHAPTER I.

usual, or when they stand before Saint Have yon faith in the mysterious tie Somebody at the Louvre, or General Somewhich binds the seemingly loose and in- body else at the Exhibition. But I durst coherent limits of man's destiny together ? not utter any objection to the line of art my Do you believe that the thread with which mother had chosen, for fear of strengthenour fate is woven is spun in one unbroken ing the secret hope she still entertained of length, on which the events of our lives my being coaxed or disgusted into acceptare threaded one by one ? If so, you ance of the place in my uncle's office after will not be surprised to find in me another all. proof of a great result arising from an And so I went on daubing and stippling almost imperceptible cause, for while some with small imagination and but little coumen are borne to fortune on the wings of rage, until I completed a study of a girl at love, and others soar to fame upon the which my fellow-students had often laughed eagle pinions of ambition, I was carried while I was at work upon it. The pale to the very summit of my hopes, and to brow and flaxen hair had been painted the fulfilment of my most ambitious through my tears at the thought of the

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