cow is in it will be a fault, and if the cow is out it will be a fault, and if there is not a fault, I will make a fault." After this he asked me to give him a specimen of my style of waiting upon customers; he said, "We will suppose that I am the shopkeeper and you are the traveller." At once I put on my hat, left the apartment, and returning in a few minutes, went through my general programme in calling upon customers. I am sorry to say that the man of "ripe experience and pure benevolence" was not at all satisfied; every detail of my proceedings displeased him. Swelling with importance, he remarked, "No wonder, sir, that you get so few orders; no wonder, sir, that your orders are small; no wonder, sir, that your returns are so much less than we are entitled to expect from you." He waxed quite eloquent, and volunteered to show me how I ought to do. Rising from his chair he said, "You will remain here, sir, as master, and I will act as the traveller, and then you will see the proper manner and style to adopt." This language irritated me beyond measure, so I determined, whatever the consequences, I would repeat the treatment I had received from a party I had visited some days before, and which I had not previously mentioned. Mr. Thick marched out in magnificent style, and I seated myself at the desk. In a few moments he returned, stated that he had the pleasure of waiting upon me from Messrs. Tooth and Claw, wholesale stationers, Glasgow, and that he had several lines which he thought were exactly in my way. They were of excellent quality, and much below the price of those supplied by any other house. I listened indifferently, and appeared to go on with my usual work. He talked eloquently, descanting on the good quality and low price of the articles he had for sale, until he was quite out of breath. I allowed him to proceed for about five minutes, and then, in the most indifferent tone possible, remarked, "I beg pardon, sir, who did you say you came from?" "From Tooth and Claw, of Glasgow, sir." "From Tooth and Claw, of Glasgow !" I exclaimed indignantly. "Do you mean to say, sir, you represent those rascals?" and jumping down from my seat, I took him by the collar, and turned him out of the room. When I was at the door he called out "Hold, hold! Police, police! Don't kill me outright. What do you mean by treating me in this way ?" "Oh," I said, "that is the way I am treated when I call upon booksellers and stationers for Tooth and Claw." Mr. Thick went home that night and reported me most unfavourably to my employers. I was sorry to have treated him roughly, but his impudence raised my temper, so I determined to read him a lesson which he would not soon forget, and if I gave him an extra squeeze in putting him out, I am sure my readers will say that he fully deserved it. I afterwards learnt that the impertinent fellow had represented a house for three days, but the head of the firm had to withdraw him somewhat suddenly, as his ability displayed itself so markedly that another few days would have completely ruined the establishment. After Mr. Thick had gone away I saw a few more customers, and did a fair amount of business. I wrote out my orders, which I sent away by the evening's post, and was quite finished before nine o'clock. I then gave myself up to my own enjoyment for the rest of the evening. Many a happy night have I spent in the Commercial Room. With all its disadvantages the Commercial Room is pleasant, especially after a hard day's work; there you meet all kinds of people-the good, the bad, and the indifferent-but I must acknowledge that the good always predominates. There you receive sympathy in your varied trials. Advice and kindly counsel are given without stint or reservation, and there you find, if you only look rightly for them, experience which is invaluable, and examples of excellence which can never be surpassed. It is a mirror for mankind; it is a place of many thoughts and many minds, and when jaded and worn out physically and mentally, nothing is so reviving, nothing is so strengthening, as an hour or two spent in the Commercial Room. We are far from home, perhaps in a country town, and the weather cold and uninviting; inside there is a bright, roaring fire, teas are in the distance and bed time is not quite near, so chairs are gathered round the fire, pipes are brought out, and the lemonade (?) brought in; then conversation begins, the weather first, current politics, or abstract subjects, then comes argument and expressions of different opinions, then song and story, and story and song, and thus the long evening is whiled away. Some travellers are veteran story tellers, and many are accomplished musicians and scholars. I remember spending a delightful evening in a north country town, and among those present was a most amiable gentleman, who had a whole budget of stories, and brought forth from his treasure house for our delectation (I use it not irreverently, but because the expression is apt) things new and old." He told his stories so quietly, and with not a little dramatic power, and imitated the dialects of the country districts to perfection. The following is one of Mr. Stokes's anecdotes, and he vouched for its truth, as it was told him by the gentleman himself. A Mr. David, from Edinburgh, in the nursery and seedsman line, paid a visit once in destroyed. W ADJECTIVES. BY A MINNESINGER. ERE I to open a new volume of poems, and to find it well studded with ex five years to a nobleman's estate in the far north, for the purpose of getting orders for the replanting of the fir trees, which the rough blasts of the previous winters had destroyed. Upon the occasion in question the land steward, or grieve, was a man called Alexander Mackin- pressions like "balmy breezes," "fleecy clouds," tosh; he was a quiet, inoffensive, and singularly "smiling fields," "warbling songsters," "painreticent individual, and the utmost Mr. David ted flowers," "whimpling streams," and many could extract from him were the monosyllablic more of a similar character, I should be justianswers "yes" and "no," as the case might be. fied in concluding that the author was no real As usual, when the bargain was completed, the poet, or he would not have been contented with nurseryman asked the land steward to clinch epithets so stale and common-place. John the bargain with, of course, a glass of whisky. Wesley, in the preface to his hymns, says very Mackintosh never spoke, and even the electritruly that "by labour a man may become a fying influence of the "usquebaugh" availed tolerable imitator of Spenser, Shakespeare, or not, his lips seemed hermetically sealed. Milton, and may heap together pretty compound Turning over in his mind some subject to get epithets as 'pale-eyed,' 'meek-eyed,' and the the silent Highlandman to speak upon, he said: like, but unless he be born a poet he will "Oh! by the bye, Mr. Mackintosh, I saw in never attain the genuine spirit of poetry." the Scotsman the other day that a young man from this district had passed his examination as Master of Arts of the University of Edin- "Your son!" exclaimed Mr. David. "Why, he must be a clever chiel: the examination is by no means easy, it requires preparation, study, and, above all, indomitable perseverance. Why, you must be proud of your son?" "Yes, yes," said the Highlander, and then relapsed into silence. "Well, I only wish I had a son who could pass with such honours," remarked the Edinburgh gentleman. "Yes, yes," nodded the grieve, and added, "I am very proud of Alexander, but it is my other son I think most of." "What, have you another son?" asked Mr. David; "and what may he be?" "Oh, yes! I have another son; and he is a physician at Liverpool, in England, where he has a large practice; not among poor people, but in the most aristocratic part of the town. He makes much money, and is not old yet." "Well, I never!" continued Mr. David. "You have two sons-one of them a physician and the other a Master of Arts. Why, you must be proud of them?" "Oh, yes! Oh, yes!" returned the ground officer. "And your excellent wife, Margaret; she will be very proud also?” "Oh, yes, she is, poor body; but, if I had known," he remarked in rising to leave, "that my family would have attained such eminence, and have become so distinguished, I would have married a lady, and had another mother for them." (To be Continued.) I do not say that it is possible to judge a com Position simply by the adjectives used in it, for many excellent poems, more particularly of a subjective and dramatic nature, contain very few to judge by; but I do say that a great poet will rarely use a weak adjective, and a small poet a notable one. What distinguishes a great poet is his power to condense-to express, by a few masterly touches, what an imitator would take hundreds of vapid lines to do. In the following example, for instance, Tennyson, by a few epithets, presents us with the character of a man as clear, distinct, and comprehensive as could be gained from a wearisome biography "Modred's narrow foxy face, Heart-hiding smile, and grey, persistent eye." Again, just look at the amount of meaning there is in Mrs. Browning's phrase, "sentient silence." The poetess is standing at the Casa Guidi windows, and sees the Austrians silently filing past on an expedition which portends disaster and misery to a nation. Silence prevails, but it is the silence of intense fear and emotion; no shrieks and lamentations; no curses and threatenings: it is a "sentient silence." In Milton you find every page strewn with felicitous epithets. His magnificent genius could imagine grandly, and execute perfectly. Take the following examples:-"Parsimonious emmet." (Does not the adjective "parsimonious convey to our minds more of the character of the emmet than any other ?)-"Smoothshaven green," "chequered shade," "tanned haycock," "busy hum of men," "civil-suited morn," "dim religious light," &c. Just notice the variety of adjectives he has at his command for describing the winds, each one appropriate to the sense of the passage,Parching wind,” “ gadding wind," "felon wind," "frolic wind," "rocking wind," "whispering wind." A desert wind may aptly be characterised as "parching," but not as "rocking" or "whispering," and herein we see the great genius of Milton, that he can fit so exquisitely the parts to the whole. An adjective is not simply to pad out a lean line or complete the rhythm of a sentence, but to add fresh light and strength to the thought. What an insight into the nature of a thing John Keats possessed. He knew how to select an adjective which more peculiarly qualified one object rather than another. We are told that, whilst reading Spencer's "Faery Queen," he fairly shouted when he came across such a grand phrase as "sea-shouldering whales." What he admired so much in others, he exhibited himself. How fine are the following:-" Winnowing winds," "silver snarling trumpets," "spiral foxglove," "quavering thunder," "insulting light," what a bold term to apply to the light, the free, irresistible light, penetrating into the den of the fallen Titans. Insulting! yes, as it flashes from the jutting crags and reveals in all their mighty woe the prostrate forms of the huge Titans, we can well call it that. The reader cannot fail to see the "rightness" of the following adjectives as applied to the things they qualify:"creeping mist" (Tennyson); "hissing snake" (Spenser); "the spotted panther and the tusked boar, the pardale swift and the tigre cruell" (Spenser); "bloodthirsty blade" (Spenser); "mountain-loving eagle (Barry Cornwall); "high-elbowed grigs" (Tennyson); "circling hare" (Pope); "patient fisher" (Pope); "shuddering morn (Marston); "lolling lilies" (Poe). "Lolling," in this last case, is not merely apposite, but produces a rich alliterative effect, which is extremely pleasant to the ear. With Mr. Swinburne and his school the main object is not to condense the largest amount of meaning into a poem, but to produce the richest luxuriance of sound. Adjectives, we feel, are often chosen more for the sake of onomatopoia and alliteration, than for fitness. Notice, however, a few selections from Mr. Swinburne-" torrent-tongued ravine," "lilylovely feet," "yellow and distempered foam," "fin-twinkling fish," "slant-sided share." How "sweet" can be applied to the sea, as it is done so often by this great poet, I cannot explain. Many small adjectives are employed in his poems, which seem to have no other duty than to add to the music of the lines. When Mr. Buchanan writes of "the squadron'd pines," and Mr. Allingham of the "deliberate-stepping cows," we feel that two accurate descriptions of nature have been made. The order of the pines on the hill-side, prim and regular as a troop of soldiers; the slow, deliberate steps of the grave cows, as they wended homeward at the close of day, must have been observed by all lovers of nature. In oratory the condensation so essential in poetry is perhaps a defect. An idea must be well diluted by the orator, or it may be too strong for the minds of the hearers. In the case of the "circling hare" the poet simply describes, by the use of one epithet, a remarkable characteristic of the hare. An orator would go into particulars and explain this fact of natural history. An inferior poet will do the same. What Pope does in a word, Goldsmith takes two lines to do "And as a hare, when hounds and horns pursue, Pants to the place from whence at first she flew." An orator, as I stated before, must attenuate if it had been condensed, it might probably an idea so that it may be understood, whereas have passed unnoticed. What in a poet is bombast in an orator is eloquence. It rarely happens, therefore, that a great orator is a great poet. so There is a currency of expression used by public speakers and others that would not be tolerated in poetry. Adjectives attached to certain nouns by poets of old time have become 50 wedded that to recall the noun is to recall the adjective. What newspaper reporter, describing a fire does not speak of the "lurid glare?" What fair miss, writing to her friend, does not send her "kind regards" to sundry other friends? Readers of Byron's life will remember how careful he was in revising his poems, how assiduous he was in substituting a strong epithet for a weak one, often giving three or four, and asking his publisher to select the aptest. I should surmise that Mr. Tennyson bestows even more care in improving his comA poet who does not spend much positions. why? Because commonplace thoughts rise first, labour on his poems is never worth much, and and have to be discarded before the original thought will appear. In thinking of thunder, such epithets as "rolling" and "dreadful might first suggest themselves to the poet's mind, but Wordsworth passes over these and uses the splendid epithet "instantaneous," to attach to it. The more we know of the technique of Poetry the more we shall value the masterpieces of our language; each epithet represents so much toil, so much judgment, and so much insight of a lofty mind. How preto us and to all ages! cious then should be the poems bequeathed All matter for insertion in "THE ENGLISH HOUSEHOLD MAGAZINE" must be sent in to the Office, 50, Grey Street, Newcastle-on-Tyne, not later than the 14th of every month and written on one side only. Printed for the Proprietors by M. & M. W. LAMBERT, 50, Grey Street, Newcastle-on-Tyne. HOUSEHOLD No. 4. OF MAGAZINE INSTRUCTIVE AND ENTERTAINING LITERATURE, SCIENCE, AND ART. "OH, LAND OF HAPPY FIRESIDES AND CLEANLY HEARTHS AND DOMESTIC PEACE."—Southgate. APRIL, 1881. GARRETT ROWAN, THE FENIAN. BY HENRY MARTIN. Author of "Stories of Irish Life," "Arnold Percival Montaigne," &c., &c. "I stand upon my native hills again, N EXT morning, after breakfast, as a matter pay of course, the young man wished to his host and hostess for the generous and opportune reception they had given him, but the Flynns professed to be insulted at the offer. "Oh! purshuin' to the bit, Mr. Garrett; take yir money back," said Micky, "if ye don't want to incinse us; shure the havin' a Rowan undher our humble roof is paymint tin times over." "Aye, glory be to God, that it is," chimed in Betty. "I'll be the proudher misthress o' this house from this day forward, Mr. Garrett; the Queen's palace wouldn't a' been too good fur ye. Shure, the remimbrince o' yir father's name and openhearted ways, sur, hasn't yit died out on the Sliev-na-Man mountain." Garrett, by forcing a trifling personal ornament or two upon his entertainers, compounded for his bill; and, with mutual expressions of regard and good wishes, he left them, to carry out his purpose of the previous night. The storm had spent itself during the hours of darkness; and a calm, bright, almost cloudless day, attended our traveller upon his journey. With vigour, renewed by a good night's rest, he rapidly breasted the ascent before him, and it was not long until he looked down upon "the Golden Vale," clad in a Vol. II. robe of amber light, such as he had seen it many a time put on, in happy days gone bye -Could it be for ever? After pausing for a little to take in the rich and radiant scene, one that never fails to impress those who, under similar atmospheric conditions, gaze upon it, he commenced his descent in order to reach the river, which, in the distance, skirted the northern bounds of Carberry Grange. his feelings, he soon arrived at the bridge, With a progress hastened by the intensity of which has been mentioned early in our narrative, and leaning over its parapet, he fondly looked, lost to all beside, at the old family dwelling, smiling in the sunshine right before him. After some minutes of silent vision, his deepest emotions all awake, he spoke in suppressed tones, though from his earnestness audibly, the words we have before given"Dear home of my early childhood—of a father's care and a mother's love-before Heaven I vow never to bate one jot of heart or hope, and never to refuse task or effort, until I win thee back, by means fair or-God help me-foul, as the rightful possession of my kindred." Still continuing to gaze, though sometimes, with eyes dim from gathering tears, he remained, resting his arms upon the bridge wall-remained until he was aroused by shrieks coming from the road to his right, but at some distance from where he stood, and from some person concealed by trees and a curve of the highway. The piercing cries of distress which startled him, he could tell were those of a woman. He lost not a moment in hastening towards the spot from whence they proceeded, nor did he go far until he saw the object of his intended succour, running, so as to meet him. She was a lady, young and handsomely dressed, and when close-with frantic gestures, and words out-of-breath-she entreated Garrett to speed onward to that part of the road from whence she had hastened-"Oh! Sir," she said, "for pity's sake make haste, they will murder him. Four men, sir, with blackened faces, have set upon my father in his carriage, have dragged him from his seat to the ground, and Oh! what shall I do? I fear by this time they have left him lifeless." Garrett did not hesitate an instant to do what he was asked, although four assailants were spoken of. "Yes, Miss MacDuff," he said, "I will do my very best, to bring a rescue." She did not know the one whose aid she solicited, but he recognised her in a moment. Leaving her behind him, he ran with augmented speed towards the spot she indicated, but when, in three or four minutes, he reached it no human being was to be seen-nothing was there but the carriage and the horses. Garrett rushed into the fern brake and wood on one hand, where footmarks and pressed down herbage showed there had been passage and a struggle. On he hurried until he came to the bank of a mountain rivulet, with shallow and stony bed. There all footsteps ceased, and he could not tell whether those he pursued had taken their way upward or downward. He searched in both directions, but could find no clue; and after long and vain endeavour, had to return to the highway, where the carriage still remained, with Jessie MacDuff, in the most excited condition of mind, standing close beside it. We shall not give the lady's account of what had occurred, because we are in possession of more complete details than she could furnish. As she stated, four men suddenly set upon her father, who, with her, alone, seated by him, was driving the carriage. Other men beside the four, however, were at hand in the wood, on either side, ready to give help in the enterprise on hand, should their services be required. The men who revealed themselves were strangers, and from a distance; but those in concealment were some of the evicted Carberry Grange tenants-who, therefore, kept out of the way of possible recognition. One of the four who made their appearance rushed at the horses' heads and seized the reins, the other three dashed at the hated landlordyet shouting out to the lady, "Don't be afeard, Miss Jessie, we'll not hurt a hair o' yir head, Alannah, nor, indeed, do we purpose to injure yir father, Miss, unless he himself dhrives us to it; but we must have his cumpany for a little." Mr. MacDuff, however, had no idea of resting upon any terms with these men, who certainly were guilty of a serious crime. He snatched his revolver from its place beside him, took fair aim at his assailants, and gave successive pulls at the trigger; but no bullet sped from his pistol, and no explosion was heard, nothing but the sound of the bursting percussion caps. Nor could there be. Before he left his home, and after he had carefully loaded his weapon, the caps were secretly taken off, one by one, again-moist putty was carefully forced down the perforation of each nipple of the pistol, which, when satisfactorily done, the caps were replaced, and the weapon was put back in the carriage holster, from whence it had been taken. The doer of this act was Mr. MacDuff's own servant-man, a secret confederate of those outside; and his master-whose acts he reprobated-was given over to the designs of those who intended to waylay him— a design not of murder, however, as we have stated. Love for Miss Jessie, they said, would hold them back from that. They would just carry MacDuff away with them for a while; it would keep him, they said, from prosecuting O'Gorman, lying in gaol until the Assizes; would stop, they thought, the evictions; and beside this, they would try to frighten him into promising to restore those he had cast out homeless on the world; and into modifying his terms for a new occupation. Mr. MacDuff's abortive attempt to shoot down his assailants gave them opportunity to carry out their programme. Having pulled him from his vehicle, they gagged him, tied fast his arms and feet, bandaged his eyes, and then while his daughter, whom they had vainly endeavoured to assure, was away, having run for assistance, they raised MacDuff upon their shoulders-fortunately for them he was not a heavy man-then swiftly bore him through the wood which Garrett afterwards traversed, carried him on to the rivulet which has been mentioned, turned up its swollen current, making its bed, with some difficulty, their pathway, and pressed on and up the slope of Slievnaa-Man; nor, aided by relays of bearers, did they pause in their course until, having overtopped the mountain summit, they landed Mr. MacDuff on the dry floor of a small cave in a wild and briar-hidden recess on the other side of the hill, only known to a few, and which had been frequently used as a place for the manufacture of potheen or illicit whisky. Here they removed the gag from his mouth and offered him a drink, but they kept the bandage over his eyes, and increased the number of his fastenings. As soon as the captive man recovered his |