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he can scarcely open it. At last! yes, it is her dear writing. Before he reads it, he presses kisses on the senseless paper:

'MY DEAR LORD MUIRAVEN,

'I HAVE received your letter. I need not tell you that its contents were a great surprise to me. I was aware, from certain papers belonging to his mother, and confided to me after her death, that my adopted child was your son; but I was little prepared to hear that he had been born in wedlock. For his sake, I sincerely rejoice that it should be so. I can fully enter into your natural anxiety to claim and acknowledge him, and I will send him to you with as little delay as possible. But you must forgive me for declining your kind offer to visit me here, for I have literally seen no one since my dear husband's death, and feel quite unequal to the task of receiving visitors. If you will be so good as to let me know how and when Tommy is to join you, I will be careful to see your wishes are attended to.

'Believe me yours sincerely,
'IRENE MORDAUNT.'

She will not see him-will not receive him at her house. What devil's charm is again at work to circumvent their meeting?

NEW YEAR'S DAY WITH OBERON.

UNDREDS of years ago the

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fairies became tired of their immortality; but do not imagine I ask your patience for a story hundreds of years old. The things I am about to relate are newest of the new. If you are acquainted with The Adventures of Telemachus,' you will remember that the grief of Calypso, for the departure of Ulysses, would admit of no comfort, and that she regretted her immortality as that which could only perpetuate affliction and aggravate calamity by despair. Well, it was the same with the fairies in the very long ago. They knew that their pleasures in merry England were departing, and they regretted they lived a life which they could not end. Their old enemy, Progress, had come upon them unawares, and defeated them. They saw that they must leave their forest homes in England, or submit to the humility of being driven away by the iron-handed, ironhearted subjects of Progress.

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'Yes,' said Oberon at that sad time, we must leave our old homes. We have been defeated, and the brass-headed king already vaunts his power. Whilst we have been sleeping in our false security he has been considering our certain overthrow; and labour, which conquers all, whether for good or evil, has given him success. He has brought to bear against us all manner of machines that are new, and strange, and horrible. We cannot take them; and if we could, their uses are unknown to us, and we should do more harm than good. King Progress has astonished us, and he declares he will astonish the world of mortals; and moreover, he says they shall bless him for it. I know that

men are often stupid in their desires and in their thanks, but I cannot think that they will be glad to see their beautiful land laid waste, nor can I think that they will joyfully stoop to kiss the hand that plucks away their ease.'

A white full moon shone in a clear sky, and bound up the blossoms with laces of light, and consoled them with cool, refreshing kisses. The fairies were lying about in disconsolate moods, and Oberon stood in their midst addressing them. When he finished his speech they sighed, and were not comforted. They did not move and they did not speak.

Then Oberon said: 'I did not think that I was so defeated. I have lost the power to make you prosperous, and I have lost your love.' All the fairies were on their legs in a minute, and the king was assured of their loyalty. They asked for his forgiveness, and he answered, 'Nay, 'tis I who need forgiveness, for sure it was a fault to doubt your love. Let us have music for remembrance.'

The music began. It came unperceived from no place and from all places, like the scent of forest flowers. It came to them as Ariel's music came to the moonstruck mariners-with this difference, that while the mortals marvelled, the fairies knew all. The music wandered about with the wind. It was sad, it was soft, it was joyful. You have heard the 'Lieder ohne Worte,' and perhaps you have felt a great swelling, tearful joy, and given your silent benison to the glorious German Jew. This being so, you know the music that could solace the fairies. It glided over the grass and touched the blades like a

harp. It went with the moonshine on the brook, and whispered Iwith the water. It made the leaves laugh as it sank through the trees to sleep in the flowercups.

Then Oberon, seeing that his subjects were comforted, spoke again to them: Our love will be our safety. The coming of King Progress will be our benefit. We shall see his work and hate it; and even Progress himself shall grow tired of his handiwork, and come to us for a solace. Let us not be too heavy-hearted. This change is in accordance with the law of things. Does not the moon change, and is it not sweet in its changes? And does not the earth itself change with the seasons? Yes; and one season is the promise of another. The blossom of spring is the promise of fruit in the autumn; and summer loses her power, even as we do, that she may have it again. Did not Apollo unseat the old god of Olympus? and did not even we ourselves drive away from the forests the nymphs and satyrs, and the dryads and fauns, even as we are being driven away ourselves? And one day we shall come again and drive this clever carpenter and all his dirty host into the limbo of lunatics; for our power, being for the beautiful, cannot die. Has not our own sweet Adonis told us that it is the eternal law that first in beauty shall be first in might? And by that everlasting law, which was from the first and will be to the last, we shall come again, and make our conquerors mourn as we do now. Our power is its own life, and will not die though it may sleep.'

That night the fairies left England with sad, silent hearts. They have been from that day to this in a warm western island, where the leaves are large, and where the

moonlight rests on the forest undergrowth like mellowed sunshine.

Some months ago Oberon called Puck to him and said, 'Puck, my boy, we will go to England; you and I, and nobody by.' Even Puck was astonished at this sudden outburst of resolution; and he was pleased, too, but he said nothing. 'Yes, we will go to England,' continued Oberon, walking slowly round a tree and looking on the ground, with his hands behind his back. Why don't you say something?' he shouted, rushing at Puck and shaking him. 'I say we will go to England. You are losing all respect and friendship, and are becoming as stupid as a mortal.'

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'To merry England?' asked Puck, ironically; 'why should we go there?'

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To see it, stupid. Have you no love for England-the old England that we knew? I wish to see what Progress has done-to see if he has had his day; to see if the turn of the tide is at hand. Some specimens of his handiwork have reached us even here. The last week brought us a peculiar book of only four pages, with the day of the week printed on it, and the day of the month. We must go to England, Puck. It will be mine again some day, and then you will have your old powers and privileges, Puck. I tell you that Oberon and his people shall have the English villages again. The candle of progress is more than half burnt. It will be in the socket soon, and go out with a splutter.'

'And then he will light another,' said Puck. 'I hope you don't think Progress has only one candle. He has candles of all descriptions and all colours. If he cannot catch them with a green candle, he will

light an ethereal blue one, and cock his right eye up to heaven.'

'You are partly right, my boy. He is very strong in all his movements, and hypocritical. However, it can do no harm to see how things stand now. You shall go as my companion, Puck. Polit shall go as our political representative; Cricket as our social critic; and Milkway shall be our spiritual guide. Five of us, and no more. How say you, Puck?'

'You began with two-you and I, and nobody by, as you were pleased to put it; but I shall be glad if you adopt the additional three, for I think this sudden pilgrimage will make you bilious, and I would rather that your displeasure should be visited on four than on one. There is small choice in rotten apples, as Willie hath told us; but if one must needs take a rotten apple, part thereof is better than the whole. The wise ones shall eat their share.'

'The journey will do you good, Puck. You are getting as sour as a pale lemon; and I have known you write amorous ballads, and go about in a perpetual smile like a harvest moon.'

'I was in England then, as England was, and had Willie of Avon for a teacher. I am like Eschylus now; I cannot compose unless I have something good to drink, and plenty of it. I must have beer or Devonshire cider. I am not one of the Abii.'

'Well, unless you improve in your disposition, I hope there will be cause for further comparison between you and Eschylus. You remember that an eagle with a tortoise in her bill flew over his bald head, and, supposing it to be a stone, dropped her prey upon it to break the shell.'

'It would have been hard lines for the tortoise if you had been there,' said Puck, who thought it

advisable to take his sudden depar

ture.

It was decided that the expedition should be so timed that Oberon and his small band of followers might be in England in the depth of winter. Oberon promised Titania he would be away only a very little time, and similar promises were made to the sweet wives of Polit, Cricket, and Milkway. As for Puck, he has no wife. He has tender thoughts about an Indian fairy, whose eyes and teeth and lips are ever in his mind; but the matter stands in abeyance, and sometimes he is heard to say with the Athenian cynic, that philosophy has taught him to live with himself.

The morning came when Oberon should start upon his travels. The fairy boat with its white silken sails was rocking itself in the bay. The fairies had gathered under the great trees to witness the going forth in the morning light to the old home. Some heard pleasant prophecies in the wind that good should come of it. When all the arms of all the fairies were tired with waving' faint fare-thee-wells' they turned to leave the shore. The fairy boat was lost to sight in the flood of the blazing sunrise.

Puck was very lazy and disagreeable. He opposed his royal master and his three wiseacres on all points of discussion. The voyage was rather a sad one, for the fairies cannot be drowned, and they knew nothing of fear and hope and the variety of passions that work upon humanity. You may ask why they did not fly? Well, I cannot explain the caprice of fairies any more than I can tell you the motive of human actions. It may be that flying is laborious, and especially over seas. When the blue hills of Mona came within sight there were smiles on all faces. There is a grot above

Douglas Head, and at high tide it is half full of water. The boat was steered to this sheltered haven, and when the tide went down the boat was left where no mortal could see it. The fairies were scated round the boat watching the rising moon that was struggling above the sea.

Suddenly there was a terrific noise that very much astonished Oberon and his wise men. They looked perplexed and uncomfortable.

Progress is up to a trick to frighten us,' said Oberon. 'We must not be daunted. Puck, you shall reconnoitre this island before we visit it. There was a time when it was a favourite with us; but things are so altered that it will be well to be cautious. Puck, you shall report. Be back in an hour, and find out the cause of that unnatural sound. Probably it was an earthquake, and yet I perceived not any shaking of the ground.'

An hour passed, and Puck had not returned. Two hours passed, and Puck came not. At the end of the third hour there was a sound of revelry by night.

'Go find the meaning of this noise,' said Oberon; and the three wise ones ran out of the grot quickly. They were pelted with pebbles, and set up a howling which greatly ruffled their dignity. They were followed by Puck, smoking a cigar and trying to laugh and sing at the same time.

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only been known to us by name. You light one end, as you are aware by legend, and you draw at the other; the smoke comes into your mouth, and the burden thereof is pleasantness. We must take as many back with us as we can. I have been drinking beer with sailors, and have gone at one step two hundred years into the past.' In five minutes Oberon and the wise ones were initiated into the mysteries of smoking.

Well, what was the noise we heard?' asked Oberon.

'When a steamer comes from England with people who are in search of pleasure, it is a custom to fire a cannon. It is done to refresh the memories of mortals who have suffered from sea-sickness, and it is considered a pleasant surprise for people with weak nerves. You know what a cannon is. That was the sound we heard. The steamer "Snaefell" had just arrived.'

'I hope the sound will not be repeated,' said Oberon.

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Yes, in the morning when the next steamer comes in,' replied Puck.

'We must be gone before then.' 'Won't you stay to see the railway?' suggested Puck. They've got a railway here.'

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'A railway!' exclaimed Oberon. 'We will go at once. A railway in an island that you can almost jump across! Why they will have a railway upstairs to bed next. I am well-nigh tired of my travels already. We must leave this place at once.'

When Oberon spoke it was law. Within half an hour they were sailing away from Manxland.

*

Two or three months afterwards Oberon and his fairy band were in possession of a secluded dell in the heart of a forest near London. Winter had whitened all the lane. The stream was frozen and covered

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