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#TcGgMmj O> ߉NqL2?.ő ZT_@jU!#̘e3pY`w U)=ߐ͑dBFOQ~6s܆'/]~d,K"v VIEW OF TOKIO, FROM THE SOUTH. VIEW OF TOKIO, FROM THE SOUTH. "This consists of filling the little cells or enclosures with the proper enamel, and, to do this correctly, the original design must be carefully followed. The design is drawn in colors, and as the artist proceeds with his work he has the colors ready mixed in little cups that are ranged before him. These colors are like thick pastes of powdered glass mixed with the proper pigments, and one by one the cells of the surface are filled up. Then the groundwork is filled in the same way; and when all this is done, the bowl is put into the oven and submitted to a strong heat. They saw a native ferry-boat at one point, which was heavily laden with a mixed cargo. According to Fred's inventory, the craft contained a horse and half a dozen men, together with a lot of boxes and bundles, which were, as the auctioneers say, too numerous to mention. The head of the horse was firmly held by the groom who had him in charge, as it[Pg 285] would have been a serious matter if the beast had broken away and jumped into the stream with all his load about him. A Japanese ferry-boat does not appear the safest thing in the world, but, somehow, one never hears of accidents with it. If any occur, they must be carefully kept out of the papers. SQUEEZING THE ANKLES. SQUEEZING THE ANKLES. Mr. Derricks lived at Roelanche, but with his wife and seven children had fled for security to Canne, where he was hospitably received in Mr. Poswick's, the burgomaster's, house. Presently three beggar-women came up to sing from door to door. In their arms, like babies at the breast, they carried shapeless idols painted red, bedizened with spangles and gilt paper. They wailed out a ditty repeated again and again, knocked perseveringly at the doors, insisting on alms; and[Pg 96] then, when they had received it, they touched the threshold with their blood-coloured puppets and departed. Also, Larry meant to try to draw the stick backward at the same time, coordinating both corrections; but Jeff, a little less calm than usual because of the superstitious fears that kept riding him, neglected to speak the words by which he would inform Larry that he was taking over until the correction was made. "See here," said Wilson, pointing to a pile of letters and telegrams on his desk. "These are protests against Billings being superseded and sent away. More are coming in all the time. They are worrying the General like everything, for he wants to do the right thing. But I know that they all come from a ring of fellows around here who sell whisky and slop-shop goods to the soldiers, and skin them alive, and are protected by Billings. They're whacking up with him, and they want him to stay. I'm sure of it, but I haven't any proof, and there's no use saying anything to the General unless I've got the proof to back it." "Great Scott," muttered Si, with troubled face, for the sight was appalling. "Is the whole Confederacy out there on hossback?" The reasons were obvious; Harry was essentially of a loving and dependent nature, whereas Reuben seemed equally indifferent to caresses or commands. He was not a bad son, but he never appeared to want affection, and was always immersed in dark affairs of his own. Besides, Harry was a beautiful boy. Though only a year[Pg 19] younger than Reuben, in the midst of the awkward age, his growing limbs quite lacked the coltishness of his brother's. He was like Reuben, but with all the little variations that make the difference between good and ordinary looks. Just as he had Reuben's promising body without that transitory uncouthness so natural to his years, so he had Reuben's face, more softly chiselled, more expressive and full of fire. His brows were lighter, his eyes larger, his hair less shiny and tough, growing in a soft sweep from his forehead, with the faintest hint of a curl at his ears. Neighbours spoke of him as "beautiful Harry." Reuben pondered him occasionallyhe would have liked to know his brother better, liked to love him, but somehow could never quite manage it. In spite of his clinging nature, there was something about Harry that was unhuman, almost elfin. The father and mother did not seem to notice this, but Reuben felt it, scarcely knowing how or why. To-night they would walk and sit on the parade till supper time, then go to some coffee-house, and wind up at a music-hall. It was a gay programme and they discussed it happily, glanced at the passers-by, inspected the empty bandstand, and finally sat down on one of the seats to watch the fishing-boats trim their lamps in the amethyst fog of the sea. For some time they talked about the terrible licking the United had given Rye, arguing about this or that player, and speculating as to what would be the Club's fate at Hythe next week. "Well?" "Lead me back to prison!" said he; "no man shall be answerable for me." HoMEpktq768c9zzggmii/hxqvesgdqupENTER NUMBET 0019www.pzhskjg.org.cn
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