The times., 1899-08-20

in the life of Old Calcutta, and is COM
memorated in stately verse
| Among the Railway Folk did Kipling
| study locomotives, and possibly it was then
that the idea OF "007, later TO be elabor-
ated on American soil, budded and grew.
There is some lively criticism of the pow
ers that be, also.
The Giridh Coal Fields" betrays the
origin OF that mining story which told OF
| the old blind pitman and his young wife
| linda. 1t Will be found in the sketches
In Black and White" These papers
sprout with epigrams. Here is one:
| Everyone knews that coal-strata, in common
| with women, horses, and official superiors, have
| faults caused by some collie OF the earth in
| the days when things were settling into their
| places
''The Smith Administration is possibly
| the crudest of all the papers, and in PAGES
| it rivals The Red Cotton Nightcap Coun-
| try in its incoherence. But even here one
catches the echo or the beginning of plain
Tales from the Hills of Mine Own Peo-
ple,' of In Black and White" and of
Soldiers Three" There Is also letter
| from Hindu in London to his brother in
India, afterward elaborated into the letter
which finds place in Many Inventions.
| The prettiest story of all, however, Is
| The Brides Progress in which the at
|
| teeming life of his hunting ground is sub
| tly indicated. Here is bit of it:
| Very early in the morning. almost before the
| light had given promise of the day, boat put
| out from CHAT and rowed upstream till it
| stayed in front of the ruined magnifcenee OF
scindia s Ghat-a range OF ruined wall and drunk
en- bastion. The bride and bridegroom had ris-
! en- early to catch their last glimpse of the city.
| There was no one abroad at that hour, and
cept Tor three or four stone-laden boats rolling
/ down from Mirzapur, they alone upon the
| river. In the silence a voice thundered far above
| their heads: II bear witness that there is no
| God but God" 1t the mullah, prociaming
| the Oneness of God in the city of the Million
Manifestations. The call rang across the sleep
| ing city, and far over the river, and be that
the mullah abated nothing OF the defiance of
/ his cry for that he looked down upon a sea OF
/ temples, and smelt the incense of a hundred Hin
| du shrines. The bride could make neither head
| nor tail of the business. ''What is he making
| that noise for, Will?' she asked. "Worshiping
Nishnu, was the ready reply; for at the outset
! OF his venture into matrimony young husband
is at the least infailihle. The bride snuggled
| down into her wraps, keeping her delicate chilli
| pinked little nose toward the city. Day broke
! over Benares, and the bride stood up and APP
| plauded with both her hands Ii finer she
| said, than any transformation scene; and in
!, her gratitude sfe applauded the earth, the sun,
| and the everlasting sky.
The river turned to q silver food and the
ruled lines OF the CHATS to red gold. "How
1
i der and timeiess Benares reused to a fresh
| day. The bride nestled down in the boat and
| gazed round-eyed. as water spurts through
! leaky dam, as ants pour out from the invaded
nest, 50 the people of Benares poured down the
! CHATS the river. Wherever the brides eye
| rested it saw men and women stepping down
| ward always downward, by rotten wall,
step, tufted basion, river water gate, and stark
| bare dusty bank. to the water. The hundred
| priests drifted down to their stations under the
| large mat umbrellas that all pictures of Benares
| represent so faithfully The brides face lighted
| with JOY. She had found a simile well. Do
1 you reeollect that pantonlime went to ages
! and ages ago-before engaged-at
| Brighton? Doesn't it remind you OF the scene
| OF the Fairy Mushrooms-jnst before they all got
! up and danced, you know? Isn't it splendid?''
These extracts are taken at random, for
the book as a whole is literally big scrap
| basket, containing some rubbish some bril-
liant and beautiful things, some penny-a-
| line records Of more or less interesting
| facts, and some fugitive imaginative writ
| ing. It will prove fascinating to those who
/ like to trace the unfolding of a genius,
| doubiy so to those who have literary pas
| sion for Kipling; but to others it is likely
/ to be somewhat wearsome. New York:
Doubleday G. Mcclure Company. $1,000
| Sketches of French Provinces
plains and UpIands of Old France, ;"
l
daintiest and oldest books of travel In
| this seasons output. 1t is a series of
sketches of French provincial towns, in
terspersed with verses of q graceful move
ment and attractive style. 1t cannot fail
| to interest those who like TO read of a
country as it is, without guide-book
/ phraseology and are fond of exploring
out of -the-way hooks and corners OF for
| eign lands. The author evidently travelled
! for most of the way on a bicycle or on
| foot and reaped all the enjoyment OF such
a mode of journeying. The sketches are
full of quaint turns OF fancy and bits of
humor, and sympathetic appreciation of
the peculiar dreamy, subtle, complex
charm of old France-the charm of an old
civilization, of country where even the
peasant has certain sophistication min
gled with his simplicity.
The originality of the book is its most
| salient point and 1t is not bizarre origi-
nality, either, but something more refined
| and attractive Who, for instance, has de-
| scribed a cathedral tower as Mr.. Greene
describes the tower of st. Eusebe at
Auxerre:
dear Romanesque tower 1t was, 50 stumpy
! and quaint that l maryeled al the cock ksure van
dalism OF the old builders, who had smOthered It
| in Gothic work. How cheerily they were ap-
plauded, though, by the two gargoyles, one mock
devout, with ears lying back on his calmly folded
wings, the other with ears almost a-wag he
| grinned in the face OF the sky. So maleyolent
| was he that ! came at last into the street.
| the very sun caught his spirit, and shone down
on each commonplace citizen with truly cyni-
! cal candor.
And here is little prose pastel of some
scenes in Beaumont-which once belonged
to England, by the way:
AZ / glanced up at the church its warlike tow
ers one partly ruined, the other still strongly
Inachicolated, reminded anonymously that
| the day was sacred. came closer to the church
door A great sun-dial the nearer tower 5
| flank cast u shrunken shadow near the figure
XII And through tbs almost windowless, bush
| grown walls came the sound OF general singing.
| Within l found all Beaumont. On the right
sat the men, on the left the women. many in
light blue, and more with a dull yellow hand
kerchief wound skillfully about the hair and fall
ing in a single fold between the shoulders. Those
touches Of yellow exquisite notes in the
church dimness; and young man, now and then,
seemed aware Of their charm-or OF charms more
personal.
ing glances of both and girls centred ON a
tiny dog, who had approached from nowhere, and
now stood perkily in the centre of the aisle.
Putting his head on one side he looked toward
the altar and toward the back of the somewhat
nearer beade. That functonary, superb in a
plumed and slvery cooked hat, moved his foot
little and shifted his grasp on the official hall
berd. Evidently he felt the minute eye fixed
on his back, for he fdgeted and turned The
dog took to almost vibratory earscratching. The
beadle, scenting irreyerence, frowned, and after
some meditation marched on him, halberd POM
pousy in hand Then the dog cooked soft
ear into questioning stiffness, hesitated a mo-
ment and scampered between the official legs
straight for the altar.
The second bell was ringing for the elevation
OF the host. Throughout the congregation decor
| ded Will Tha