[Illustration]
Now that the World has taken his wife to the sea-side or the Continent,
there is not much demand for heavy literature--especially as the
cost of the over-weight in luggage is something considerable beyond
Calais--and consequently trifles light as air have become the popular
brain-food of the multitude. In the absence of his noble and respected
chief, an Old Retainer of the Baron has read _Telling Stories_,
originally published in the _St. James's Gazette_. The Old Retainer
can honestly declare that the stories are not only worth telling, but
being re-told--in their present form--they are just the things to amuse
the traveller weary of watching the hat-box on the carriage-rack,
or the third-rate mountains fading into distance on the Rhine. He
will turn to them for recreation when he has tired of sight-seeing.
They are, without exception, short, crisp, and interesting. The Old
Retainer would not think of leaving town without them. They would be
more welcome to him than his armour, and quite as necessary as his
weather-worn umbrella. The Veteran Warder, still acting on behalf of
his revered, but far-a-field, captain, has peeped into _The Times
Atlas_, a magnificent volume, worthy of the best traditions of Printing
House Square. The Aged Watchman has sampled the maps, and found them
absolutely accurate in the smallest particulars. The _Atlas_ has
caused the Elderly Sentry to think seriously of quitting his guard,
and journeying to the far North. He has not yet decided upon his
destination. At the moment of writing, his inclination gaily suggest
"Greenland," while his banking-account sternly whispers "Southend or
Herne Bay." In the meanwhile, the Years'-stricken Looker-out remains
at his post, and, with a hand trembling with age and emotion, proudly
appends a signature not his own.