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Who remembers a certain story called, if I remember aright, _The
Wheelbarrow of Bordeaux_, that appeared in a Christmas Number of the
_Illustrated London News_ some years ago? If no one else does, I do,
says the Baron; and that sensational story was a sensational sell,
wherein the agony was piled up to the "n'th," and just as the secret
was about to be disclosed, the only person who knew it, and was on
the point of revealing it, died. This is the sort of thing that Mr.
RUDYARD KIPLING has just done in this month's _Lippincott's Magazine_.
It is told in a plain, rough and ready, blunt style, but so blunt that
there's no point in it. And the idea,--that is if the idea be that the
likeness of the assassin remains on the retina of the victim's eye,
and can be reproduced by photography,--is not a novelty. Perhaps
this story in _Lippincott_ comes out of one of Mr. RUDYARD KIPLING'S
pigeon-holes, and was just chucked in haphazard, because Editorial
_Lippincott_ wanted something with the name of the KIPLING, "bright
and merry," to it. It's not very "bright," and it certainly isn't
"merry."
_Black's Guide to Kent_ for 1890, useful in many respects, but not
quite up to date. The Baron cannot find any information about the
splendid Golf Grounds, nor the Golf Club at Sandwich; it speaks of
Sir MOSES MONTEFIORE'S place on the East Cliff of Ramsgate as if
that benevolent centenarian were still alive; and it retains an
old-fashioned description of Ramsgate as "The favorite resort of
superior London tradesmen"--"which," says the Baron, "is, to my
certain knowledge, very far from being the case." It talks of
the "humours of the sands," and alludes to what is merely the
cheap-trippers' season, as if this could possibly be the best time for
Ramsgate. The _Guide_ knows nothing, or at least says nothing, of
the Winter attractions; of the excellent pack of harriers; of the
delightful climate from mid-September to January; of the southern
aspect; of the pure air; of the many excursions to Ash, Deal,
Sandwich, Ickham, and so forth; nor can the Baron discover any mention
of the Granville Hotel, nor of the Albion Club, nor of the sport for
fishers and shooters; nor of the Riviera-like mornings in November and
in the early Spring, which are the real attractions of Ramsgate, and
make it one of the finest health-resorts in Winter for all "who
love life, and would see good days." "It reminds me," says the Baron,
puffing off his smoke indignantly, "of Mr. IRVING and a certain
youthful critic, who, in his presence at supper, had been running
down _Macbeth_, finding fault with the Lyceum production of it,
and ridiculing SHAKSPEARE for having written it. When he had quite
finished HENRY IRVING, 'laying low' in his chair at the table,
adjusted his pince-nez, and, looking straight at the clever young
gentleman, asked, in the mildest possible tone, 'My dear Sir, have you
ever _read Macbeth?_' So," resumes the Baron, "I am inclined to ask
Mr. BLACK'S young man, 'Do you _know_ Ramsgate?' And of course I mean
the Ramsgate of 1890."
From the specimens of _London City_ that have been sent for inspection
by Messrs. FIELD & TUER, of the Leadenhall Press, who are bringing it
out, the Baron augurs a grand result, artistically and financially. It
is to be published at forty-two shillings, but subscribers will get
it for a guinea, so intending possessors had evidently better become
subscribers. The history of the Great City is to be told by Mr. W.J.
LOFTIE, so that it starts with an elevated tone and the loftiest
principles, and the illustrations will be by Mr. WM. LUKER, a talented
draughtsman who, as a Luker-on has seen most of the games in the City.
In consequence of some piratical publisher having attempted to bring
out a work under the same title, intended to deceive even the elect,
Messrs. FIELD & TUER have secured the copyright of the title _London
City_, by the ingenious device of publishing, for one farthing each,
five hundred copies of a miniature pamphlet bearing this title, and
containing the explanation. The value of these eccentric farthing
pamphlets may one day be thousands of pounds. _Mem_.--Twopence would
be well invested in purchasing four of them.
_Salads and Sandwiches_ is an attractive title, specially at this
season. The arrangement of the book is, like the salad, a little
mixed. When, however, the knowing Baron finds that abomination known
as salad dressing, or "salad mixing," which is sold at the grocer's,
recommended by a writer who professes to teach salad-making, then he
closes the book, and reads no more that day. This author, who is in
his salad days, might bring out a book entitled _How to Suck Eggs; or,
Letters to my Grandmother_. It is a suggestion worth considering, says