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wound just when his case has who comes after Uthwart's been taken up in the newspapers death to extract the bullet and he has been offered a new from his body, in which Pater's commission.
imagination betrays him into “On that July afternoon, the an excess of morbid detail. gardens, the woods, mounted (The doctor performs the operin flawless sweetness all round ation in the presence of Uthhim as he stood, to meet the wart's mother.) circle of a flawless sky. Not a “The ball, a small one, much cloud; not a motion on the corroded with blood, was at grass! At the first he had length removed ; and I was intended to return home no then directed to wrap it in a more; and it had been a proof partly-printed letter, or other of his great dejection that he document, and place it in the sent at last, as best he could, breast-pocket of a faded and for money. They knew his fate much - worn scarlet soldier's already by report, and were coat, put over the shirt which touched naturally when that enveloped the body. The had followed on the record of flowers were then hastily rehis honours. Had it been placed, the hands and the peak possible, they would have set of the handsome nose remainforth at any risk to meet, to ing visible amongst them; the seek him; were waiting now wind ruffled the fair hair a for the weary one to come to little; the lips were still red. the gate, ready with their oil I shall not forget it. The and wine, to speak metaphoric- lid was then placed on the ally, and from this time forth coffin and screwed down in underwent his charm to the my presence. There was no utmost—the charm of an ex- plate or other inscription quisite character, felt in some upon it.” way to be inseparable from his Pater's touch was uncertain person, his characteristic move. when he was writing realisticments, touched also now with ally; there is a strong flavour seemingly irreparable sorrow. of the grotesque in this deFor his part, drinking in here scription of poor Uthwart's the last sweets of the sensible corpse, and it is difficult to world, it was as if he, the lover understand his wish for this of roses, had never before been peculiar post-mortem. aware of them at all."
A strange and painful story, It is a pity that the story and, on the whole, a failure did not end on this note. It artistically ! But it is certainly is marred by a postscript, sup- a remarkable contribution to posed to be written by a doctor our military literature.
Printed by William Blackwood and Sons.
Yurovsky; and the Murder of the Tzar
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In many parts of the west of his mind that the only thing Ireland one finds small moun- to do was to go to England tain farms of from five to in search of work, and one cold twenty acres, generally con- winter's morning he set off sisting of twenty-five per cent from his home, in company rock, twenty-five per cent with three other lads from the heather, and the remainder of same townland, to walk the indifferent grass-land. On such fifteen miles across the mouna farm a peasant will rear a tains and bogs to the nearest large family, and how it is railway station at Bally bar. done is one of the mysteries Arriving in England, they made of Ireland ; but done it is, and their way to a town in Yorkoften.
shire, where one of them had Patsey Mulligan was one of a a brother working in a coalfamily of ten, brought up on mine, and within three days one of these farms until he of leaving his home in Ireland was seventeen, when his father Patsey found himself a Yorktold him that it was time he shire miner. thought of keeping himself, Hardly had he settled down and, incidentally, of earning to his work in the coal-mine some money for his mother. when the war broke out, folPatsey quite agreed with his lowed by a rush of young father, but soon found that miners to enlist, amongst others it was much easier to talk of Patsey Mulligan; and before getting work in such a poor he realised what he was doing, district as Cloonalla than to he was a full private in a famget it.
ous Yorkshire regiment. PatIn the end Patsey made up sey had, however, enlisted in VOL. OCIX.—NO. MOOLXVI.
the name of Murphy, hoping to keep his people in ignorance of the fact, knowing it would break his mother's heart if she knew he was fighting. Patsey thoroughly enjoyed the training, and within seven months of enlisting embarked for France; and after a few weeks' pleasant life in billets, gradually moved north until finally the battalion took over trenches in the famous salient of Ypres—a great contrast to Patsey's home in the west of Ireland. There happened to be in the battalion a young Irish subaltern by name Anthony Blake, and when Blake told his Company Sergeant-Major to find him a servant—an Irishman if possible—Patsey at once volunteered for the job, and between the two young Irishmen there soon sprang up a friendship through the common bond of danger and discomfort. After some time Patsey learnt through one of the boys with whom he had first crossed to England that his mother was dangerously ill, and that she had repeatedly written to Patsey to come home and see her before she died, but had naturally received no answer. In his trouble he appealed to Blake, and that night found him waiting at Popperinghe Station for the leave train with a return-warrant to Ballybar in his pocket. On his arrival at Ballybar he set out on his long fifteenmile tramp to his home at Cloonalla, and late on a sum
mer's evening the family of Mulligan were startled by a British soldier in full marching Order walking into their home. Before his mother died she made Patsey promise that he would not go back to France and that he would stay at home and help his father to mind the other children. It is hard for a son to refuse his dying mother, and doubly so for an Irish boy. When his mother's funeral was over, Patsey buried his uniform and equipment in a bog-hole at night ; but his rifle he hid in the thatch of an outhouse, and it was given out in the neighbourhood that he had been discharged from the Army as medically unfit. After the usual time Patsey was posted as a deserter in his battalion; Blake found a new servant and forgot all about his late one, while Patsey settled down to work with his . father, and the memory of Blake and the British Army faded from his mind. Though wounded three times, Blake was one of the lucky men to return home to Ireland at the end of the war, and at once set about looking for a job. The son of a country doctor in the south of Ireland, at the outbreak of war he had just left school, and had not had time to settle on a career. But if in England it was hard for ex-officers to get employment, in Ireland it was doubly So ; and Blake soon found that it was next to impossible for a man who had worn the