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Lang, Andrew: Historical Mysteries (continued).

II. The Campden Mystery .

III. The Case of Allan Breck

IV. The Strange Case of Daniel Dunglas Home

V. The Case of Elizabeth Canning

VI. The Murder of Escovedo

Little, Mrs. Archibald: In a Viceregal City

Lord Rowton and Rowton Houses. By Sir Richard Farrant
Lucy, Henry W.: A City of Magnificent Distances

Some Empty Chairs

Macedonia-and After?

Macpherson, Hector: Herbert Spencer

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Martin, J. Sackville: A Tale of Japan.


Mason, A. E. W.: The Truants (Chapters I.-X


4, 146, 289, 444, 577, 721

Maxwell, The Rt. Hon. Sir Herbert, Bart: Sir John Moore

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Memories of 'The Times.' By Alex. Innes Shand
Modern Theories of Light. By W. A. Shenstone, F.R.S.

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Motion of the Solar System through Space (The). By Frank Watson
Dyson, F.R.S.

My Princess: A Medley. By F. S.

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Nineteenth Century Philosopher (A). By F. J. H. Darton .

No. 10 Downing Street. By the Right Hon. Sir Algernon West,

Old Time Newfoundland. By Judge Prowse, K.C.
Ordish, Thomas Fairman, F.S.A.: The Improvement of Westminster



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Parry, His Honour Judge: A Day of My Life in the County Court
Partridge Rearing in France. By C. J. Cornish .

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Pennell, Mrs. Elizabeth Robins: In London Chambers (from the

American Standpoint)


Powder Blue Baron (The). By Mrs. Alfred Sidgwick


Provincial Letters. XIV. From Beaconsfield. By Urbanus Sylvan. 267
Prowse, Judge, K.C.: Old Time Newfoundland

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Richardson, Frank: The Folly of Face-Fittings.
Ritchie, Mrs. Richmond: Blackstick Papers, No. 8
Robinson, the Late Sir John R.: Charles Dickens and the Guild of
Literature and Art.

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Russell, T. Baron: The Ingenuity of Mr. Clinton Bathurst

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Shenstone, W. A., F.R.S.: Modern Theories of Light


Sidgwick, Mrs. Alfred: The Powder Blue Baron


Sir John Moore. By the Rt. Hon. Sir Herbert Maxwell, Bart..







I HAVE wandered too far from the foam on the shore, from the sand and the grey-blowing grass,

Since I came from the dim of the deep ocean land through the clear-shining country to pass.

I whistled and sang because never before

A Sea Man had come from the sea,

And I laughed to the children who played at the door,
Till the children came laughing at me.

'O see the Gaberlunzie man!

The silly crazy outland man!'

And after me, all after me the village people ran.

Of the soft-woven weed was my mantle of grey, and a garland of pearls in my hair;

Through the beautiful city that shines to the sea methought like a prince I should fare.

O the gay market-booths in the square on the hill!

O the banner that blows o'er the gate!

But the people were sure that I meant them some ill

And whispered with faces of hate,

'Come catch and kill the stranger man,

The ugly evil outland man,'

And fast as foam along the sea, across the fields I ran.

Through the waves of the meadow I followed the wind and watched

all alone in my mirth,

How the little warm creatures, the brown and the grey, did


for joy of the earth.

VOL. XVI.-NO. 91, N.S.


And the songs in the sky were a merry mad crowd,
Running races of shrill and of sweet;

I thought they were spirits that sang in a cloud
Till a lark fluttered down at my feet.

And O the liquid utterings,

Dainty flights and flutterings

Here and there of hedgerow birds with pretty painted wings.

Where the forest is dim like the green water-world and the gossamers float in the dew,

I went till I heard how a multitude sang, and fain had I sung with them too.

There was surging of sound from a palace of spires,

A throng in its cavernous gate,

It was pierced with rubies and walled with sapphìres
And carven with kings in their state.

'O fair,' I said, 'to see and hear!

What though they kill me I'll come near,

'Twere shame on thee, thou sea-born man, a bitter shame to fear.'

So I strode from the forest and shook my long hair, as I stood like a rock on the turf,

And sang the great song that the sea-heroes sing, when they clash in the roar of the surf.

There was shadow behind me and silence before,

And then came a terrible cry,

And far o'er the meadows and in at the door

I saw the pale multitude fly.

The mighty gates with hollow sound

Shut after them, and round and round Their palace fair I walked and cried and never entrance found.

At evening I heard the slow sigh of the wood and thought it a voice that I knew.

I said, 'I will break through the rampart of green and suddenly burst on the blue.'

O the frank open spaces, the sea and the sky,

Where the winds spread their wings and are free!
But the shadows grow darker, the twilight goes by
While I wander and look for the sea.

Among the thickets of the thorn

I lay my body cold and torn,

And on the bough a sea-born wind doth rock itself and mourn.

Thou wind that art talking alone in the wood the speech of the wave on the shore,

Go tell to my love I am drowned in the wood and never shall come to her more.

Go tell to my mother who watches alone,

Ah, not how I wandered and died!
But say that afar on a porphyry throne
I sit with a queen at my side;

Go say to her who'll watch in vain,
Though never may I come again,

Yet happily, most happily beyond the hills I reign.


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