A Knight on Wheels

dently the paragraph in the "Searchlight" had dealt its originator a mortal blow,-uncle and nephew sat down to an e

ion, he had shirked the responsibility and expense of matrimony until he had attained the ripe age of forty. Then he fell a sudden and abject captive to the charms of a damse

, to be expended in the purchase and outfitting of a suitable establishment,-to wit, a bijou villa in

y upon furniture was obviously a work of supererogation. Lastly, inspired possibly by a yearning for a wider field in which to exercise her undoubted talents, the affianced of James Nimmo had decided to emigrate to Canada. This decision she promptly put

ed to him by the extreme coldness, not to say hauteur, with which he attended to the wants of seasick lady passengers. James Nimmo on his part noted with grim approval the whole-hearted fashion in which Unc

nd loosed the tongue of James Nimmo, and before dawn the whole of the tale of the f

of the sea, in order to follow Uncle Joseph. Since that day they ha

that Uncle Joseph had come home,-and from that moment he had lived and breathed in a society exclusively masculine. He still retained recol

of eggs, and made laborious conversation. And most dimly of all he saw a lady, very dainty and sweet-smelling, who always appeared to be talking. When she talked to a group of other ladies and gentlemen, she seemed to smile and sparkle

ery, and went out walking with his Nanny: he even received the tops of eggs from the big silent man, who seemed to grow more silent and less big as the days went by. But the pretty lady never came back. Once Philip ventured to

ething which Philip did not understand, but which made Nanny cry. Philip cried, too, when he was taken back to the nursery, and Nanny endeavoured to comfort him by giving him an egg with his tea. But Philip would only eat th

o have the house to themselves. Everybody appeared to be waiting for something. Even the glories of the black velvet suit began to pall, and Philip was genuinely relieved when one day a carriage drove up to the door and a gentleman stepped out and rang the bell with an authoritative peal. Most gratif

ilip, who sat on the window-seat an interested witness, never forgot that spectacle. He had seen Nanny cross and he had seen Nanny cry; but he had never before seen Nanny cross and crying at the same time.

se in Hampstead. Here he was introduced to James Nimmo, who provided him with an excellent tea, and then washed him (with surprising skill) and put him to bed. After a few days P

emanating from an houri who passed him in the Finchley Road, brought her memory back to him, but only for a moment. Poor, cross, faithf

while James Nimmo instructed him in the arts of cookery and needlework. By the time he was ten Philip could make

ad a more human and personal touch. He spoke of far-reaching steamer-tracks as if they had been London thoroughfares, alluding to mighty liners with no more emphasis than if they had been so man

masterpieces of his native tongue, and to express himself in direct and cogent English; but it was from James Nimmo that he picked up such colloquial patois as "ashet" and "gi

ned, but whose invariable appellation was "Rabbie." "Rabbie," it appeared, was the only real poet who had ever existed. His soul was the soul of Scotland. Rabbie had never penned a line which did not get home to

ogs," "Scots Wha Hae," and "Auld Lang Syne"-in their entirety. Most of these performances Philip secretly considered rather dull, but he made an exception in favour of a curious little poem about a mouse, which James Nimmo used to recite with great tenderness and a certain pathetic effect. Our affections must have

nced any other passions than those arising from patriotic fervour or political animus, was c

at seven-and-thirty,"

red the inge

ied James Nimmo, his face hardening. "I mind a vairs

Adam firrst

t's still

man that w

l ruled t

nt admirer will admit errs a little on the side of leniency towards Rabbie and ingra

r, while Philip, who in common with his kind always felt particularly e

behind the glass screens and come round to the front of the counter and shake hands with Uncle Joseph and engage him in agreeable conversation, while Philip watched the cashier licking his thumb and counting bank-notes with incredible rapidity. After entering the numbers of the notes in a big book the cashier would seize the bag containing the gold and silver-quite a number of Uncle Joseph's subscribers used to send actual coin in registered

ation, where Uncle Joseph departed alone by the Underground-to another bank, in the Edgeware Road this time. Here he deposited a bundle of cheques and crossed postal orders. The majority of

a separate account at the Edgeware Road Bank for all contributions to his benefactions which did not arrive in the form of notes or cash. These he invariably endorsed, "Everard James, Secretary." The same name was inscribed upon his pass-book. It was understood in the Edgew

oon, though, he began to run. The soundness of his physical condition may be gauged from the fact that he ran up Netherhall Gardens, a declivity much in favour with pro

nd presently reached the outskirts of Hampstead Heath. It

ous Sunday, as he walked over this part of the Heath with Uncle Joseph. On that occasion he had noticed a little girl sitting on a gate. She had smile

ified if she could be certain that you had gone there on her account. She is nothing to you, or you to her. But you are a man and she is a woman. So she smiles at you. It is the first and most primitive of the arts of

ory" was a new word to Philip. He made a mental note of it, and resolved to question Uncle Joseph as to it

pot. And there, sitting on the same gate, with the setting sun g

she said, an

e her a se