Harry How

“ If you ever went to Bracebridge you would never dream of going away without looking over the wicket gate and inhaling the sweet perfume of the old man's roses. They lined the gravel pathway, for all the world like floral sentries, as their owner passed between them to the porch. Rose-trees were everywhere, and every single blossom was as familiar to him as the seals on his watch chain, and he patiently followed the progress of each petal and the unfolding of every bud with as much pride and care as he would that of the growth of his own child. Yes, the flowers brought old Holloway happiness. ”

“ On looking up, the dome seems to lose itself far away, so delicate and ingenious is the construction and the colouring of it. It is a place in which to sit down and dream, for there is not a sound except the gentle splashing of the spray from the fountain. The fountain itself is hewn out of one solid block of black marble. It comes to one's memory that this spot has been more than once the scene of many amusing incidents. Sir Frederick's friends, in going through the court, frequently, when gazing at the beautiful ceiling, unconsciously walk into the water. ”

“ Immediately on entering are seen two fine marble busts of Lord Palmerston and Byron; many portraits of old Harrovians hang round the walls. Here "Young Harrow" can come and look upon many precious relics of those who sat on the forms before them. They can sit in the alcove by the window and look out upon the glorious landscape in front of them, the richness and beauty of which must tempt many a lad to dream and hope that one day his name may live "on the Hill." Byron's sword is here, and Lord Palmerston's inkstand. ”

“ We had reached the top of the hill, drove beneath the old stone gate, curiously enough known as the "Strand Gate," a great pile of ragstone, with towers at each angle, and partially covered with ivy, and stopped at the little white wicket gate. And, true enough, there was Prince, singing away with a heart as free as though he were in the open air instead of in his cage by the window—the same sweet tune. At sight of his mistress he hopped about in mad delight, stretched his little neck and lifted his head, anxious to pipe his richest notes as an assurance of perfect happiness. ”

“ It was a most impressive scene—the tents of the pickers standing out like phantoms, the whole thing being made all the more weird by the light of the fires over which the hoppers were bending, cooking their evening meal. It was all so silent, save for the voice of a hop-picker who would suddenly shout out some command, or the cry of a child; for the tiniest of workers may be found "helping mother" in the fields by day. I can see Miss Terry now, as she stood up in the carriage and looked upon this striking picture. ”

“ A certain well-known head master of Harrow used to say to a boy after he had birched him, 'I forgive you!' and he accompanied every stroke on the delinquent's body with such expressions as 'Now, be a man!' 'Be brave!' 'I'm so sorry!' And he meant it. The reason for his taking to birching the boys was an amusing one. He was humanity itself, and he got another master to do the thrashing. ”

“ I returned to Tower Cottage.
We met again on the turret top, and then I listened to the story of her life. How earnestly she spoke of everything associated with her brilliant career. She has always been in the best circle—theatrically speaking—ever since she began. But she referred to all this very quietly. If Ellen Terry impresses one on the stage as an actress, how much more does she do so when sitting surrounded by one of the fairest of Nature's scenes, as a woman! When she remembers an incident it is indeed remembered. ”

“ The drawing-room is a very delightful apartment. The colour of the walls is of a delicate nut brown, while the ceiling is pure white. There is a recess which opens out on to the garden, and set in the ceiling of this is a magnificent study by Delacroix for a ceiling in the Palais Royal. More plates are upon the walls, and curios and priceless nick-nacks of all descriptions and from all countries are upon the tables. The pictures are all oil colours. Sir Frederick is pardonably proud of possessing four panels by Corot, which he regards as the finest this artist ever painted. ”

“ Just then the school bell rang out, and away the children ran up the hill, their voices shouting all the way, "Many happy returns of the day, grandfather! many happy returns of the day!"
The old man, caressing the child as he carried it close to his breast, with his daughter's arms still clinging to his neck, walked up the pathway. The bud on the rose-tree seemed to peep out from all the other crimson blossoms. ”

“ Sir Frederick's Arabian Court is simply a creation; one can only stand and listen to the splashing of the fountain falling beneath the golden dome at the far end of the court, and conjure up recollections of the fairest of scenes and grandest of palaces described in the Arabian Nights. ”

“ But go on a little farther and you reach the pavilion. Here sit the two houses who are fighting with bat and ball today. You can easily tell the supporters of the two sides. Let the bowler deliver a good ball, and fifty voices at the pavilion go up in one great shout; but let the batsman make a grand drive, and the same fifty voices are silent, while the other half-hundred take up the shout. If you want to hear a real, unadulterated English shout, ask a Harrow boy to cheer; if you want a practical definition of enthusiasm, go to a Saturday afternoon match at Harrow. ”

“ Conan Doyle. I found him totally different from the man I expected to see; but that is always the case. There was nothing lynx-eyed, nothing "detective" about him—not even the regulation walk of our modern solver of mysteries. He is just a happy, genial, homely man; tall, broad-shouldered, with a hand that grips you heartily, and, in its sincerity of welcome, hurts. He is brown and bronzed, for he enters liberally into all outdoor sports—football, tennis, bowls, and cricket. His average with the bat this season is twenty. ”

“ EORGE AUGUSTUS SALA—or, as popularity has abbreviated him, "G.A.S."—is one of the merriest men of the nineteenth century. He is literally loaded with fun and good humour. Touch the veteran journalist on his anecdotal trigger and you will live all the happier after receiving a volley. Ask him a question and his answer is—an anecdote. It is his only hobby—to gather them up—and he is a past-master in the art of dispensing them in any sized quantities to meet the requirements of the most susceptible constitution. ”

“ I often have requests from the parents of boys to 'let them play cricket to their hearts' content,' and when the House of Commons is sitting, the ground is alive with M.P.'s on a Saturday afternoon—probably to see if I am carrying out their instructions. The big match at Lord's is systematically trained for. I always make a point of keeping the boys in school till eight o'clock on the morning of the Eton and Harrow match. It steadies them. You have only to look at that pavilion to know what the Harrow boys love. ”

“ Miss Terry thinks—and rightly too—that a dress should do much to indicate the character of the woman who is wearing it, as witness the dress she wears as Lady Macbeth, which looks like a coiling snake. "I could have gone mad," she said, "as Ophelia, much more comfortably in black than in white. But, oh! the little ins and outs of which the public know nothing. Hamlet and Othello must be black, then Ophelia and Desdemona must be white." ”

“ The walls are covered with tiny sketches done by the artist whilst travelling; scenes of Rome, the Nile, Rhodes, Jerusalem, Athens, Seville, Algiers, and other picturesque spots inviting to the artist all find their place, and amongst the beautiful studies of the Continent are mingled the daintiest of views of the scenery of our own country: the valleys of Devonshire, the glorious green slopes of Ireland, the mountains of Scotland and of Wales. On the south side of the studio, running along the top, is a portion of the famous Elgin frieze. ”

“ Welldon for a walk round the school buildings, and a visit to the swimming bath and cricket field, I saw some of the boys' rooms in the Head Master's house. The head boy of the house has a library in his apartment. You can read the boys' inclinations in the decorations they have in their respective sanctums. One boy leans towards sport—look at the cups and athletic trophies; another is partial to cattle in general, and horses in particular. ”

“ Though certainly the most versatile leader-writer of to-day, and justly regarded as being at the top of the journalistic tree, he is still a working man. His work is his recreation, the recreation of a moving mind. He has written more "leaders" than any man living. For the first five years of his thirty-four years' connection with The Daily Telegraph he wrote two a day; now, three hundred leaders a year is his estimate. He has no politics, and for upwards of twenty years not a line from his pen has appeared in The Daily Telegraph on home politics. ”

“ But Winchelsea must wait for a few pages—there is the house in Barkston Gardens to be visited first, and then away to "Holiday Home." If you walked round the square of great red brick houses at Earl's Court which constitutes Barkston Gardens, in the summer time, you would have no diffiulty in finding Miss Terry's house. Its number is—flowers—flowers—flowers! They fill the window-sills and block the balcony of the drawing-room. A man may be known by the pictures he hangs on his walls—so may a woman by the flowers she puts in her vases and windows. ”

“ Educational subjects are increasing in number every day—they advance, whilst the capacity of the boy remains stationary. The only way to deal with the educational problem is to find out just what the boy loves and cares for, and let him learn it. I don't believe in cramming. Every subject requires teaching, and time to teach it in. Schoolmasters must learn to appreciate time as well as system. Are schoolmasters plentiful? Well, I have forty here, a splendidly energetic band—ask the boys—and with strong opinions of their own. ”

“ Although I have been painting in oils exactly fifty years, I have only had one single accident happen with a pigment."
Sir Frederick Leighton seldom paints portraits. He considers it "fetters one down, as you are simply bound to satisfy your subject." He cannot work under restraint, neither can he use his brush whilst being watched; he could not touch a canvas with his most intimate friend by his side looking on. He likes to work with a large palette, and by preference with one of lemon-coloured wood. ”

“ Welldon spoke very frankly on the subject of corporal punishment. He assured me that the only people in English society who do not object to having their boys flogged are the upper classes.
"Why," he said, merrily, "seeing that flogging is abolished in the Board schools and forbidden in the middle-class schools, soon we shall only be able to flog the son of a duke! Boys in their hearts like being kept in order—the masters they don't like are those who won't punish. Still, I don't believe in corporal punishment—it may be useful, but I assure you it is not often necessary at Harrow. ”

“ The faces I paint are never the faces of my models; what the artist puts on the canvas is the impression which the model produces upon him—what he feels inwardly, and not what he sees before him. Yes, I am very devoted to drapery, and invariably use a certain kind of muslin for dresses. In a picture the colour of a garment is an invention on the part of the artist, and not a copy of the colour of any fabric. It is quite a mistake to imagine that we take a garment out of a cupboard and paint it ”

“ Passing from the great studio through a small corridor furnished with ebony book-shelves and large pieces of canvas, and drawing the great plush curtains on one side, we enter the winter studio. Here the great artist paints when the light of the larger room is not sufficiently strong. A magnificent Persian carpet hangs on the wall. Here, too, is the picture, already referred to, of a girl shelling peas, the inscription on which reads, "To Sir Frederick Leighton from John Edward Millais, March 7, 1889." ”

“ One of the great blossoms was drooping, but just from the same green stalk a fresh bud was shooting forth. The old man took out his knife and cut off the faded flower. He looked at the bud thoughtfully. He seemed to read a story amongst the roses—a story that went to his heart. He looked again at the dead blossom in his hand. Then his eye wandered towards the bud. He burst into tears, and quickly turned away.
"My daughter, my darling Marion! I was cruel to send you away, very cruel. A father's love for you made me think it impossible for even a husband to love you as I did. ”

“ Sala paid a tribute of great tenderness to the memory of his late wife, and spoke as only a real man and true husband could of the woman who is his helpmate to-day. Journalists are the very worst of business men, and the veteran declares that he is no exception to the rule. Happy the journalist who possesses a wife of business instincts—a woman who can relieve him of all these worries, and leave him a free course to run his pen. ”