The Working-Day World, or the Stronger Portion of Humanity

Front matter

THIS WORKING-DAY WORLD OR THE STRONGER PORTION OF HUMANITY THE STANDARD WORK ON AUTHORSHIP. THE AUTHOR'S MANUAL Being a Complete Practical Guide to all Branches of Journalism, Literary Work generally, and Book-producing, with Special Advice in Reference to Imaginative Literature. By Pbrcy Russell. Crown 8vo, cloth, 5s. (Fifth Edition, New and Revised). SPECIAL NOTICE.— The New and Revised Edition contains Prefatory Remarks by the RIGHT HON. W. E. GLADSTONE, M.P., v'ho has read and approved the volume. "The aspirant to literature may certainly read Mr. Russell's book with profit." — Spectator. " Mr. Russell has pot up his subject with much care, and supplies a great deal of useful information. His advice and suggestions are sound and to the point." — Graphic. " Cordially recommending Mr. Russell's cade mecum." — Literary World.

Miss M. E. Braddon writes — " Your counsel both to the journalist and the imaginative writer is full of wisdom." LONDON : DIGBY, LONG & CO., 18 Bouverie St., Fleet St., E.C. THIS WORKING -DAY WORLD OR Œbe Stronger Iportion of ftmmanitp BY G. V. FAIRFAX LONDON DIGBY, LONG & CO., Publishers 18 BOUVERIE STREET, FLEET STREET, E.C. •j^oto full of frrtrrs ts tJjis toor{ung=&as tooilo." — " As You Like It," Act I., Scene j. CONTENTS. CHAPTER PAOB I. — Maiden Musings, II.— Mr. Bazelt, :4 III.— Female Emancipation, 2S IV.— Lord Wylie, 33 V. — Becksi.ey Vicarage, 49 VI.— The Cousins, 55 VII. -Pearl, 64 VIII.— First Impressions, 81 IX. — Love Me, Love My Dog, 88 X.— Captain Adair, - - - - - 96 XL— Women's Rights, 103 XII.- -Her Own Way, 112 XIII.— Naylor, 124 XIV.— The Skating Party, ■--.-- 136 XV. — Farewell, 157 XVI. — An Unexpected Visitor, - - - ' - 163 XVII.— One Summer Afternoon, • - - - 168 XVIII. -He is My Friend, 185 XIX. — The Harvest Festival, .... 205 XX. — Inferior Man, 215 XXI. — Advanced Woman, 226 XXII. — The Superior Sex, 241 XXIII. — A Confession, 256 XXIV.— The Inquest, 2S7 XXV. — Against the World, 299 XXVI. —The Trial, 303 XXVIL— Won at Last, 321 XXVIII. — The Stronger Portion of Humanity, - 326 XXIX. — Strongest, Yet Weakest, .... 330 XXX. — Eureka ! - - - - ... 334 XXXI. — Lords of Creation, OK, Zhe Stronger fl>ortion of fmmanitg.

Chapter I. Maiden Musings

AMONG the abbey fields at Normanstow the river Kebble wanders in and out in graceful curves. It is a sluggish stream, and loves to dwell in pools amid the golden sedge and white water-lilies. The tench like it because of its muddy bed, and because it runs so deep and slow, especially beneath the wire bridge which stretches across its broadest girth, from Norman's Wood on one side to the rectory fields on the other. There the fish find shelter deep down in the dark water, whose surface just there is black and inky even on the sunniest day. The alder trees ripple above, but the waters never smile in response. Do they guard a secret that they are always so silent and grim ? OR, And if so, what secret ? Perhaps that is why the tench love it so much, because it never tells what lies beneath ; and perhaps the reason Madge Merton loves it, too, is because its mysterious silence is in concord with her own wild longings and love of solitude.

Why should she sit there and fish so persever ingly all the long afternoon ? The tench are much too sly for her to catch. Perhaps there she can enjoy a reverie undisturbed. It is a dull, dark afternoon. The shadows seem to gradually creep beneath the alder shade across to the other side of the bank, and a dim, ghostly gloom steals over the tangled undergrowth and about the fir trees of the opposite wood. " I wonder if there really is such a thing as the love of which men write and poets sing, and, if so, will it ever come to me ? " Madge murmured half aloud ; and her rod dropped lower and lower in the water, and then with a half-sigh she raised it higher and began to shorten the joints and wind in her tackle. " He cometh to all, but not to me," she quoted. " I've heard every girl has a lover once in her life, and why haven't I ?

No one ever comes here though, and I am twenty three ; a'nd I — hullo ! here he is." And with a little surprised, defiant laugh she looked across the stream and saw on the opposite bank the figure of a tall man dressed in dark clothes moving stealthily out of the woods. " Is he a poacher ? " was her first thought. " No, he looks a gentleman, but, I must say, I do not like his appearance;" and, following his movements with her eyes, she shortened her rod, and selecting the thickest piece, placed the others in the case, and then, placing her elbows on her knees and her head upon her hands, took a careful survey of the intruder. She was sitting with her feet overhanging the river, and the stranger, who apparently had not noticed her before, stopped directly opposite to her and surveyed the coast with a calm, considering gaze, as if pondering the advisability of coming across.

What struck Madge as peculiar was that, apparently, he saw her not ; or, if he did, con founded her with part of the bank. Then he walked with thoughtful steps towards the wire bridge, and stood a moment testing its strength with one foot on the lower wire and his right hand firmly grasping the top one. In that attitude his immense personal activity and the well-balanced strength of his build were at once strikingly noticeable. ; OR, " In a personal encounter."' thought Madge, " I shall have but a poor chance. This rod isn't weighted, and I could hardly reach to do much execution even if I had to try. I don't think he is a scamp ; but still his appearance here, and so late, is suspicious. Still, if he does come across I can run away before he gets over, though it is a long way from home, certainly.

Tom often tells me I am silly to go such lonely rambles, especially to this desolate spot. It is the first time I have ever met a human creature here before. I don't care for anybody! I, a strong-minded woman, too, and a despiser of mankind, and don't I go in for woman's superiority ? And — ah ! he is coming across. I don't half like it. Shall I go? Oh, dear, what a coward I am after all — no better than the rest of the women." And the girl, really half-alarmed, yet doing her best to laugh down her fears, stood on the bank still grasping the butt-end of her fishing-rod. The man meanwhile had swung himself half across the swaying wires with wonderful ease, and Madge could not help admiring his fine physical build and carelessness of danger. Stay! Was he afraid after all? He had reached the middle of the wire, and then just at the deepest and darkest part of the water his nerve seemed completely to go; he turned white and lost his balanced position ; in a moment the foot wire shot from under him one way and the hand wire bounded upward in the opposite direction, so that his body hung for a moment parallel with the water, his whole support depending on his hands ; but with an adroitness worthy of the most skilful acrobat he cleverly regained his footing, and once more came on quickly and surely to the bank ; so quickly, that the girl who had watched his narrow escape with spell-bound interest, suddenly found herself face to face with the intruder before she had sufficiently recovered herself to fly.

With a startled jump she lost her balance and would have fallen backwards into the river if the stranger had not caught her. She hung but for a moment in that fashion with her face upturned, but still in that half-second their eyes had met, and poor Madge's boasted strength of mind basely deserted her ; she coloured up to the roots of her hair, and the weapon of defence fell from her nerveless hand and floated safely down the stream (how glad the fish must have been to see it !) Why should she blush ? the man had merely caught her arm and prevented an accident. It was only loosely held — no, it was not the action, it was the unfathomable expression in his eyes that daunted her — eyes that had looked her through and ; OR, turned her mind inside out as it were, whilst they gave no information in return.

" I hope you are not hurt," he said, gravely, and apparently not noticing her confusion. " My fishing-rod," she said, in a vexed tone ; for, after all, it was very annoying to feel so small beside a despised man. " Ah ! I am afraid you must get another," he replied, evincing no desire to try and rescue her own. " Can you tell me the name of the village ? " he asked, hardly pausing for her to answer. " Normanstow," she said. " How can I get there ? " he inquired. " Straight down these meadows," replied Madge, pointing. " Oh, thank you," he said ; and then, to her sur prise, walked away in the opposite direction. " How silly I have been, and I have lost my fishing-rod as well," thought the girl ; " at anyrate I'll try and recover that." Rut the rod apparently preferred to be its own mistress, and drifted with little, swirling motions towards the opposite bank.

Madge looked baffled for a moment. " Never mind, I'll try the wire bridge. What man has done man may do, etc., though I am only a woman," she thought. So she set her foot on the wire and grasped tight hold of the top one ; the lower part swayed from her as she placed her other foot rather tremulously beside its fellow. But alas ! for feminine fortitude, her movements shot her feet out one way and her hands the other, and she swayed so near the water that her skirt, floating behind her, dipped deep into the river. With a frightened effort she narrowly gained the bank, and once on terra firma, sat down disconsolately to wring out her wet dress and bemoan her loss. But luck was not all against her, for close at her side lay a letter, which no doubt had been dropped by the stranger, unnoticed by either of them.

She picked it up cautiously and inspected it curiously. There was an obliterated direction upon it, but the seal was unbroken. " I will keep it in case we ever meet again," she said, with a little smile, placing it in her pocket. " I think I have a little the best of it now." As she moved slowly homewards she despised herself for the smallness of mind which caused her to triumph over such a petty revenge. " I ought to be above such trivial feelings," she argued, but still she felt a little comfort in her humiliation, though, perhaps, displaying a slight, feminine inconsistency. ; OR, 14

Chapter II. Mr

BAZELT. The Rev. Thomas Merton was seated by the tea table as his sister Madge entered the room. "Oh," she said, looking annoyed, "you did not wait for me, then ? " " No," replied the downright curate, " you are always uncertain as regards meal times, and, besides, I wanted my tea." So Madge turned away to change her draggled skirt and smooth her hair, which, by the way, was becomingly arranged round her shapely head in a totally unconventional fashion, which gave an air of distinction to the wearer. She was not exactly a pretty woman, but of very stylish appearance, with nothing commonplace about her. While Tom quietly drank his tea and thought fully folded a third slice of bread and butter, Madge returned with her quick, decisive step. " Do not move," she said to her brother, as he slowly prepared to vacate his place by the tray.

"You can pour out my tea for me. I shall do quite well here," and she squeezed herself into the corner beside him. " You can make tea very well," she went on, critically surveying her brother as he dutifully fulfilled her desire. " It seems to me I ought to have been the man and you the girl. You'd make a splendid old woman, Tom." " I thought you despised men too much ever to wish to be a man," said Tom, slowly putting some cream into her cup. " Yes, so I do," said Madge, quickly ; " at least the only thing I'd wish to be a man for would be because I should be so strong ! " " Well, you are stronger than many women, Madge." " Yes, yes, I know," she said, impatiently. " I never have aches and pains. I am wonderfully hearty. But I should like to be able to walk, and run, and row, and jump as well as the best athlete in England !

" Tom smiled. " Madge," he said, " I heard a man say the other day you would be a splendid woman if it were not for your masculine tendencies." "Who, if you please? Mr. Bazelt?" " Yes, what made you guess him ? " " Oh, I know no other man would say such a silly thing," said Madge, contemptuously, " and if ; OR, he were not such an old woman he would not make such ridiculous remarks. I would not be such a man for worlds — but a woman ! an emancipated woman ! free from all conventionalities, and free from the burdens of society ! Oh ! what a glorious career would be open to me if I were not tied down with all these hateful forms." Tom smiled. He had heard it all before a hundred times. " Mr. Bazelt is coming in to supper, by the way," he observed. Madge made a movement of disgust. " Oh, why do you ask him when you know I hate him so ?

" she asked, pathetically. " He is a very good sort of fellow," rejoined her brother, quietly. " That is a matter of taste," said Madge ; " I know you like him. He is so much like yourself, and if you agree so well, I wish you would live together, and let me go and do my work in the world." "What work?" asked Tom. "To publish the wrongs of women in general, and your own in par ticular?" " Tom, you are mean and spiteful. I never laugh at your sermons, even in church, though it is an ordeal to listen to you. But you never lose an opportunity of making fun of the dearest object I have in life. And to think that I should be sub jected to the clumsy inuendoes of such paltry creatures as you and Abraham Bazelt ! " Madge was continuing in this semi-tragic manner, when, much to her brother's relief, the housemaid brought in the letters, and Tom enjoyed a respite as Madge eagerly tore hers open.

" Bah ! " she exclaimed, impatiently ; " what do you think Maggie has done?" Tom did not speak, but waited patiently whilst his sister finished her letter, and then, turning back to the first page, read : " And Maggie is actually engaged to Walter Williams, whom I believe you saw when last here. The wedding is to be in December, and we want you and Tom (whom Maggie would like to assist at the ceremony) to come down for it." " What cheek ! " commented Madge ; " and we always thought — at least Eva and I did — that you would marry Maggie, if any one did. And now she has thrown herself away ! " Madge spoke with infinite scorn, and, lifting her eyes to Tom's face, saw a look of pain flit across his homely visage, which as he looked up changed once more to its ordinary, quiet good-nature. " I believe we were right, after all," she thought.

B | OR, " Poor old Tom ! But still he could never really have expected that such a quiet, humdrum fellow would suit a pretty girl like Maggie." " Forgive me, dear," she said, gently — and Madge could be very tender if she chose, which was not often ; she hated to show feeling of any sort, and so, apparently, did Tom. " Forgive you for your unkind remarks on Mr. Bazelt ! certainly," he said. " I suppose you won't confess it," said Madge. " But, Tom, dear, think ; it would have been quite as incongruous as I and Mr. Bazelt." " What would ? " asked Tom, gruffly. " I say Bazelt is a very good fellow, and you snub him unmercifully." " Perhaps you have a fellow-feeling with poor Mr. Bazelt," said Madge, quickly. The moment after she could have bitten her tongue off. " Why ! why do I always say nasty things ?

" she groaned inwardly. " I did not mean to hurt his feelings, but he is such a sensitive creature ; I know he ought to have been a woman." And, with a wish to turn the conversation, she thought she would tell him about her adventure that afternoon, and yet somehow she did not like to begin, and whilst she sat debating whether she should tell him or not, Tom rose and thrust his plate away, saying abruptly : " I have to finish writing my sermon.'1 " Now he is offended," thought Madge. " It is always the way; there never was any sympathy between us, and never will be. We always end in misunderstandings," she sighed, and in her wilful, inconsistent way sat down diligently to darn a pair of her brother's socks, an employment she detested. Whilst completing this penance, Tom came in with a letter and said briefly : " I've written to Aunt Martha and congratulated her on Maggie's engagement, and I have arranged to go in December.

Shall I enclose a message for you ? " " Oh, best love to all, and say I am going to write to Maggie," answered Madge, indifferently. " I might have spared myself," she thought, with an angry little pull at her work ; " I don't believe he cares two straws, or he would not go down to assist in marrying her to another man ; she flirted with him last summer, and if he had any proper pride he would decline the honour with thanks. If I were a man I would show more spirit," and then, as if to compensate herself for her undeserved punishment, she folded together her work and walked to the window. ; OR, 20 " There is Mr. Bazelt coming already," she said. " Well, I shall not stay to help to entertain him," and with a naughty little grimace at the uncon scious visitor she ran lightly upstairs to her own room.

The first thing that caught her eye was the dress she had hurriedly slipped off before tea fallen from its peg on which she had carelessly hung it, and lying in a dishevelled heap on the floor; it was a pretty costume of grey and strawberry, but the latter colour had run dreadfully into the grey, and presented a woeful combination of streaks. "How tiresome," murmured Madge. "This is of no use now, I must give it to the first beggar who comes," and she proceeded in her usual impetuous way to turn out the pocket ; in so doing, her hand came upon the letter, which she had forgotten all about. With great care she examined it outside, and found it had been opened, but was sealed together again. The only thing possible to decipher in the address was the first word, "Cap ;" the rest had all been obliterated ; how, she could not determine.

It appeared to have been accidentally done, however. So she was forced to ponder over these three little letters, C— a— p. "They might mean so many things," she thought ; " Cap and Hat Warehouse, for instance ; perhaps he is only a travelling agent for some milliner, or he may be a captain, which seems more probable. He appeared to be a gentleman." With a resolute movement she locked the per plexing letter in her desk, for she was too honour able to break the seal, and, drawing writing materials before her, she sat down and entered the past afternoon's adventures in her diary. That done, she wrote down a concise, well-thought-out chapter on women's rights in a book entitled, " The Emancipation of THE Sex," by Magdalene Morrison Merton, W.L.A. Poor Magdalene Morrison Merton! She and her brother Thomas were left orphans at an early age, and had lived since then for many years with their aunt, Mrs. Grey.

Mrs. Merton and Mrs. Grey were sisters, and the latter had married a poor curate, and the proverbially large family came only too soon. At last Mr. Grey obtained the long hoped-for living, though only a few degrees better paid than the curacy had been. Madge and Tom had grown up with their cousins, and the former's character had developed into a strong-minded young woman's, self-confident to a fault, with no sympathy for weaker natures, and a restless longing for a wider scope of action for her untried pinions to soar in, ; OR, *>o When Tom obtained his curacy, Madge at once willingly went with him to Normanstow, believing the time had come for the wished-for field of action. She was sadly disappointed, poor girl, to find Normanstow a trifle more lifeless than her former home had been at Becksley vicarage, and her pent up energies exercised themselves in indulging her love of railing at the unhappiness of being a woman, and grumbling at the selfish intolerance of man.

She affected to despise men, and it would be hard to say for whom she felt the slightest shadow of respect among the masculine sex. . . . Mr. Bazelt, too, came in for a large share of Madge's contempt. . . . He was a "gentleman," or, at least, a man with no occupation (Madge always declared he was a retired shoemaker, he wore such dreadful boots). But the truth was, Mr. Bazelt was a trifle inclined to gout, and loved easy, old shoes accordingly. He lived in a nice little house at the other side of the village, and possessed a harmless mania for curiosities. He was quite a character in his way, but with very old-fashioned notions, and last, but not least of his faults in Madge's eyes, he was guilt}' of the unpardonable sin of regarding her with admiring eyes. It was a very one-sided, harmless flirtation on his part, for he was quite an old man, and Madge never lost an opportunity of snubbing him.

But he took all her unkindness with the quietest good-nature, which sometimes aggravated Madge into saying some very spiteful things. Tom and Mr. Bazelt were kindred spirits, and prosed for hours together over archæology, Egyptology, and many other ologies, which a clever girl like Madge at first found interesting, but when she had fully inspected Mr. Bazelt's fossils and relics, and knew all his stories by heart, she openly scoffed at the precious collection of relics, supposed to be the only ones in the world, and of which Abraham Bazelt was the happy possessor. " My dear young lady," he would reply to her gibes and jeers, "we shall convert you by and by." This particular evening Madge was disposed to be more civil to him, partly because the conversa tion turned on Normanstow Woods, in which she felt some interest.

" To whom do they belong ? " she asked of Mr. Bazelt. " To Lord Brackenbury," he replied. " And how do people get into them ? " she asked " It is not the place for young ladies," said Mr. Bazelt. '■ I mean to go, though, some day," said Madge, audaciously. ; OR, " Then you will be prosecuted. No one is allowed to go. There are man-traps and spring guns laid all over it, and it is surrounded by a brick wall six feet high, with an iron gate of which only the keeper has the key, and there is no way to it except across a wire bridge from this side the village." " Oh, I saw the bridge you mean this afternoon," said Madge ; " I was fishing up there." " Then it is a lucky thing for you no one saw you. You were poaching, and would certainly have got into trouble. I do not think," said Mr. Bazelt slowly to Tom, " that it is at all the correct thing for a young lady like Miss Madge to go about by herself so far away from home.

Nor manstow Weir is a very lonely spot ! " " No," said Tom, deprecatingly. " I tell her so myself, but she will go " " Of course I will," said Madge, who had listened with ill-concealed impatience. " I am not a baby ; I can take care of myself." " Still, it is not a proper thing for women," reiterated Mr. Bazelt. " If you want an escort, Miss Madge, I shall be pleased to accompany you." "No, thank you!" said Madge, scornfully. "You would only frighten the fish, Mr. Bazelt ! " It was an uncalled for and rude remark, con sidering the good man's kind offer ; but he only laughed as if it were an excellent joke. " Why is there such a high wall round the wood ? " asked Tom. "Oh, there isn't really; it is, in fact, a stiff fence which very few people could climb. Lord Brackenbury is dreadfully particular about the game.

But now he is away the keepers are very lax in their duties. They hardly ever go near the place, and say it is too well known here for people to attempt to enter it." "I think our villagers are not given to poaching," observed Tom. " I have not heard of anything of thc sort since I have been here." " No, it has been thoroughly eradicated in days gone by from their forefathers, so I expect there is no such tendency in the present generation. Miss Madge, though, seems likely to revive the spirit of the past. I trust, young lady, you will not continue your evil habits for the sake of the villagers," Mr. Bazelt said, looking across to where she sat in a brown study. She raised her eyes vacantly, for she was wondering more and more who that man could be she had met in the afternoon, and how he could have entered the wood.

And, for the second time, ; OR, she was half inclined to tell her story. " No, I won't," she reflected. " Mr. Bazelt will only have something else to gossip over and laugh at me about." So she sat on and listened dreamily as the conversation gradually drifted round to Egypt, and thence to fossils. No need to attend any more, she thought, and wandered out into the dusky drawing-room, and, seating herself at the piano, let her fingers stray idly over the keys. She must have been there an hour or two, for at last she. roused to the fact that she was quite in darkness, and that Tom and Mr. Bazelt were standing at the open door asking her why she didn't light the candles, and the latter was saying: " Good-night, thank you so much for your music ; I have stayed on till quite late to listen to it."

" I wish I had known," thought Madge. " I won't play when he comes again." When Tom wished her good-night he said : ' Madge, you must promise me you will not go fishing alone again to Norman's Weir." " Why ? " asked Madge, defiantly. " Why, Bazelt says you are poaching ; and, if so, it is not right, you know." "Just as if the fish didn't belong to me or you as much as any lord in the kingdom ! " said Madge. " Yes, dear, according to your ideas, but not according to the laws of England." " I did no harm to-day, at anyrate," said Madge. " I never caught a fish, and only had two bites." " Well, you will not go again ? " asked Tom. " I really cannot promise, Tom, just like a naughty little schoolgirl ! " " Not to oblige me ? " asked Tom. " No, I really couldn't," she said, after a short pause.

" If you were to shake me, perhaps I might," she added, slowly. "I will do as I choose." Tom sighed. " Very well," he said, " I hope you won't come to a bad end, Madge." " Never mind about me, dear ; you never will ! " she said, laughing. " But I must have excitement somehow and adventure, or I should go melancholy mad." ; OR,

Chapter III. Female Emancipation

It was one morning late in October when Abraham Bazelt started, scissors in hand, to inspect his small greenhouse. Everything at the cottage was on a diminutive scale, and its owner used to say he liked small things because he was a small man, which remark was quite correct ; he was a small man, and yet he had dared to raise eyes of adora tion to the fair Madge Merton, who was by no means an insignificant personage either bodily or mentally ; she might develop into a large, stout woman, but was at present a fine, strong-looking young lady. Mr. Bazelt had just gone the round of his pot plants and was returning with a very fine piece of geranium and maidenhair fern in his hand, designed to decorate his modest bachelor abode, when he beheld a swinging piece of scarlet twinkling in and out the other side his holly hedge and past his little wicket.