The sun., 1904-06-05
carriage and pair, and duly installed him

carriage and pair, and duly installed him
In his rooms. The party were invited to
| dinner by Dr. MacBride TO meet Routh
= the head of the College. who was to live
/ to a very great age, and who even then was
| approaching the lean and slippertd panta-
| loon" period. Next day an arran cement
WAS made with Robert Lowe (afterward
Lord Sherbrooke) to coach young Charles;
and. as the boy went at his books for all
he knew. in July. 1891. being then II, he
got his demyship. 1t was largely throu gh
his mothers influence that Reade secured
at the age of q the fellowship, which he
retained throughout his life, and which
carried a stipend beginning with f25O
year, but ultimately rising to about E85O
1t Is we'll known that such fellowships
could, in those days, be held only by cell
bates. There is no doubt, either, that 1t
was through the wires pulled by the Lady
of Ipsden Manor. who had set her heart
on making her youngest boy Bishop.
that Cha rles Reade, who hated to stay at
Oxford. quickly and successfully became
dean of arts and vice-president of his
college.
During the long vacation Of 1891 a COM
pany of players came to what was then the
primitive theatre Of Oxford town. To
=. Charles Reade, who never before had seen
y drama performed, the acting was a reve-
iatipn He was forthwith inspired with the
thought Of being playwright, and, drama
tizing -Peregrne Pickle" with whirlwind
rapidity he sent it to the manager Of the
company. playing in Oxford, offering it
gratis. The manager seemed not to appre-
ciate 3he- precious opportunity offered. but
returned polite note advising the author
to submit his work to Macready, and sug-
gesting that, as his manuscript was not
easily decipherable, a fair copy might pro-
mote the chance OF the play being read.
The boy Reade rose to the bait had his
"Peregr.ne' printed at a cost of upward
Of thirty pounds. and forwarded 1t TO the
eminent actor and manager in London.
BY the next post it was returned with
note from Macready's secretary, inquiring
whether the writer had been trying a
practical joke that, IL 80, -the joke was a
bad one, and the play worse
For the first twelvemonth after beco M
ing Fellow. the future novelist and dram
atst had to be in residence at Magdalen;
but as soon as he was at liberty, he bolted
to town, and the very first night. even
before his name had been entered at Lin
coins Inn, he went to Drury Lane to see
Macready in Macbeth The following
night he went to the Haymarket, and
thenceforth he was an incessant frequenter
of the theatres. 1t was at the Haymarket
in 1887 that Reade first saw the young lady
Miss Laura Alison. of whom soon after
ward he lost sight for many years. but
with whom, as Mrs. Seymour. he was to
spend the penultimate and by far the hap
pest part Of his life, The play was THE
Bridal" and Miss Alison played Asposid.
Who though Tilted by Amintor, is still in
love with, him, and disguises herself as a
page 90 attend upon him. Reade, as usual.
was sitting in the front row of the pit. Il
shall never, he told Coleman, forget the
impression that Aspdsia's first appearance
IA the page made OH me. 10 say that she
vas beautiful would give but the faintest
idea Of the charm Of her perso nality Her
so called disguise served not to conceal.
but to reveal in all its beauty tho glowing
outlines Of that graceful form" Reede
goes on to recall that. although so per-
fectly propor ioned. she was a leetleyes,
Just leetle. below the middle height
Her complexion was fair her face oval,
her nose a delicate aquiline, with almost
transparent most rls, her lips twin cherries.
her teeth Of dazzling white ness. her eyes
large and lustrous; her neck and shoulders,
and her limbs, above and below, were
siperbly moulded. while her voice melted
INTO music al every ,itterance. Remem-
her, he adds I'm speaking of more than
twenty years ago, when | was suscepti-
BILE al this dainty creature WAS attractive.
What it Is Knowles says in one Of his high
falutin' rhodomont AIDES? In joining con-
trasts leth loves delights And so,
suppose, it came to pass that !. q great
hulking, six footer, had no eyes for any one
that night but that seducing. alluring little
Gan nymede.
at Is The very error OF the moon:
She comes more near the Earth than she was wont.
And makes men mad.
At the end of the season this fascinating
creature. whom Reade went to stare at
every night. disappeared like a fash Of
lightning, although she was fated, as We
have said, TO come once more and perrna-
nently into his life long afterward.
II seems to have been near the end of the
'3Os-the dates are somewhat confused in
the autobiogra phical section-that the Incl
dents occurred which became the frame
work OF Christie Johnstone.- While stay
ing in Edinburgh. Reade drifted down to
New Haven, and there became acquainted
with youthful and beautiful f1shwife.
'Ye.. sir!- he tells Coleman, Il was the
Ipsden OF the story, and Christie, dear
Christie. was-but that CONCERNS no one
but my darling and myself" He adds that
when Christie and agreed to differ (alas
that it should he SOY shook the dust Of
Scotland of my feet and it was many long
day ere crossed the Tweed again" Sew
eral years appear to have elapsed, when.
being once more in Edinburgh, the thought
came to him. Suppose I were to stroll on
to New Haven--there could be no harm in
my seeing-seeing Her-certainly not!"
1t happened that as he strolled down Leith
Wharf, fine. young buxom hneey of a
fishwife. balancing a huge basket>on her
head, strobe up toward the city, sing ing
out, Caller haddie Whall buy my fine
caller haddie!" The old story all came back
TO him as though it were yesterday. He
wondered whether she'd be glad to see him.
He would soon know, anyhow. At last
he reached New Haven. When he APP
preached the house the door was wide open.
and the old woman was ben" +Christie?"
said Reade; 'how's Christie?" Gods