, 1888-10-11

were the gagging interpretations of the
actors who took part in the plays. because
Lord Bacon was as incapable of these
puerilities as Shakespeare was of the vast
learning and deep philosophy. lie held
other singular opinions, and asserted that
if a lord chancellor of our own day took
it into his head to write, say melodramns
for the Adelphi. he would undoubtedly
collaborate with one of our leading play
wrights, Mr.. Sims or Mr.. Grundy or Mr..
Jones. and would permit him to take all
the renown and part of the enumeration.
Hcarefully concealing his own name. This
is no DEPRESSION. but is given to show how
deeply my uncle was interested in Shake.
speare.
The most valuable, or at least the most
highly priced, book in his collection was
q First Folio" for which, if | remember
rightly, he had given ESQ. though he
would not have parted with it for
ten times that sum This rare boob was
kept not merely as a curiosity by its
owner, as he was able to put it to a crit
ical use; it's state of preservation was sc
perfect as to end 1t a unique copy
was considerably surprised one,day when
he told me that he had promised to lend
it for q short time to a distinguished
member of parliament, whom he had o.
most won over to his own views regard
ing the authorship of the plays. was
commissioned to convey the precious book
to it's destination, and my uncle
gratifed me by saying that he could
trust 1t for that purpose into the hands
of no one else. He was going out to dine
that night, and as saw him into the car
rage the last thing he said to me was
that, Gs the distance which ! should have
to go was not great, he would prefer that
| should walk instead of taking q cab.
being, l suppose, of the opinion that the
| nook UOpld RIM n ornatar riGH of hcinp
injured or lost if | used a conveyance. /
promised. therefore, to carry it. An hour
later, when | left the house with the val
liable book in my hand, | found myself in
the midst Of the densest London fog | | had
ever experienced. Not only was it suf-,-
eating and binding, but as it driftci
along and met my face the heavy vapu,
seemed almost tangible. To add to thc3
discomfort caused by the fog the night
was bitterly cold and the pavement was
slippery. | had not gone many STEPS
when l began to deliberate whether |
ought not to return, but, as | knew that
my uncle's friend was staying at home
this evening in order to receive the book.
| thought it better that he should not he
disappointed. | had proceeded on ny
way not more than a few hundred yards
when, on turning a corner, l ran
against some one who was coming
in the opposite direction. The COLI
sion was a sharp one, and we both
slipped and fell. With mutual apologies
we scrambled to our feet, and the stranger
politely lifted the copy of Shakespeare"
which had fallen from my hand and re-
turned it to me. We were standing right
under a lamp, and l could see, though in.
distinctly, the manner of man he was
with whom | had come in contact; he was
middle aged, short, spare and dressed
shabby genteelly in black, apparently a
second rate solicitors or barrister's clerk.
or perhaps a copyist for a law stationer.
After expressing a hope that l was not
hurt he moved away, and l remained
standing, somewhat dazed by my tumble.
AS | had still about half a mile to go l
resolved to run the risk of no more acct
dents, so | turned and began to retrace
my steps. In q few minutes l was again
within my uncle's house. 1 went at once
TO the library in order to restore the
First Folio" to its place.
How warm and comfortable the room
seemed after the miserable weather to
which Ihad Just been exposed. The fire was
blazing brightly, and | warmed my cold
hands,. AS soon as a lamp was brought
in approached a table, where l had laid
the Shakespeare" as l was anxious to
know If it had received any slight damage
through falling. l lifted the book, an,l
suddenly felt faint, while the room
seemed to spin round me. The book l
held in my hand was not the First
Folio" but a law book of the same size
aud appearance Ere l opened it l saw
by the printing on the back of the binding
that it was Robbins on Contracts r.
The truth flashed upon me instantaneous
ly. That miserable lawyers clerk in the
darkness and fog had inadvertently hand
ed me this wretched book he was CARRYING
and had taken away the Shakespeare "
in its stead. / was convinced that never
again would l behold the First Folio"
1t is true that my uncle's name Il
address were written on a slip of paper
which was gummed to the cover, but
from the ~momentary glimpse l had of this
man l felt sure he would not return it.
The temptation by which he found him.
self assailed would be too great for him
to resist, when he learnt that he had in
his possession a book which, if sold, would
procure him a comfortable annuity for
the remaiIEler of his life. He would know
that the book must be the property of
some wealthy collector, who, he would
imagine, could afford to purchase an
other. Though his conduct would be
morally as culpable as theft, | knew that
many a man, who was incapable of DELHI
crately stealing, would be unable to with
stand the temptation of appropriating
that which came into his possession un-
Willingly, and, in a manner, might seem
to have been thrust upon him, especially if
he were in needy circumstances, as this
nan whom l had in the fog
undoubtedly was. There would be no use
in advertising the loss, as my uncle's
name would be seen, and the book restor-
ed if it had fallen into the hands of an
honest person. had a strong conviction,
however, that the book would never be
brought back. l did not doubt for q mo-
ment the consequence which my care
lessness would entail upon myself. Not
only would / lose my fortune, but l would
be banished from my uncle's house, and
be thrown upon the world without means
and without the ability to earn my living.
| knew that he had disinberitad my